He sat in the early dawn and smoked. He could feel the nicotine drifting into his soul making his karma cancerous, but he puffed again. Alone with your thoughts. Sometimes that meant you were truly alone but for him it never did. He could live a lifetime in a thought. And he hated the him that he was alone with. This was the him that tried to write bad poetry. he puffed again. A crow sailed by the tree in front of his window. He wondered why he never looked out them.
He stubbed out the cigarette and put the half back into his pack. He hated the taste of already used cigarette but he couldnt bring himself to waste them. he should go somewhere. He considered picking up his skateboard and travelling that way but it seemed so false right now. the one thing he couldnt dare be is false this time of morning. the honesty of the air would kill him for any falseness. He pulled the pen out of his pocket. Drew a line below where he had last excreted on the page and wrote a short line or three.
wind is dead for me
smoke fades from view with softness
meaning drifts with it
Haiku. He always seemed to write them in this mode. well he was happy enough with it. It wasnt false. Didnt mean much with that abstraction of the word meaning but at least it wasnt a lie. he stuffed the pen back into his pocket and the book into his back pocket. He stood up unfolding himself from the sitting crouch that he had assumed to write. He walked into the kitchen. there was nothing in the cupboard he wanted to eat. Ramen that required cooking, crackers that just seemed tasteless to his freshly smoked tongue.
he picked his shirt off the floor gave it a shake and put it on over his head. his hands fought with the laces of his shoes. he had planned to sleep but there comes a point where sleep isnt really an option. He passed that point an hour back. he could go out perhaps. sit at McDonalds with the people who always go this time of morning. what he needed was something other than tobacco to smoke. he never knew how to acquire anything else though. how can you trust someone who is already willing to commit a crime? occasionally it was true he had smoked other things. only when it was people he knew and they were smoking it too. he needed to find a source. this was not enough of an impetus to leave his home today. McDonalds was looking more and more like it would be the excuse.
He stubbed out the cigarette and put the half back into his pack. He hated the taste of already used cigarette but he couldnt bring himself to waste them. he should go somewhere. He considered picking up his skateboard and travelling that way but it seemed so false right now. the one thing he couldnt dare be is false this time of morning. the honesty of the air would kill him for any falseness. He pulled the pen out of his pocket. Drew a line below where he had last excreted on the page and wrote a short line or three.
wind is dead for me
smoke fades from view with softness
meaning drifts with it
Haiku. He always seemed to write them in this mode. well he was happy enough with it. It wasnt false. Didnt mean much with that abstraction of the word meaning but at least it wasnt a lie. he stuffed the pen back into his pocket and the book into his back pocket. He stood up unfolding himself from the sitting crouch that he had assumed to write. He walked into the kitchen. there was nothing in the cupboard he wanted to eat. Ramen that required cooking, crackers that just seemed tasteless to his freshly smoked tongue.
he picked his shirt off the floor gave it a shake and put it on over his head. his hands fought with the laces of his shoes. he had planned to sleep but there comes a point where sleep isnt really an option. He passed that point an hour back. he could go out perhaps. sit at McDonalds with the people who always go this time of morning. what he needed was something other than tobacco to smoke. he never knew how to acquire anything else though. how can you trust someone who is already willing to commit a crime? occasionally it was true he had smoked other things. only when it was people he knew and they were smoking it too. he needed to find a source. this was not enough of an impetus to leave his home today. McDonalds was looking more and more like it would be the excuse.
VIEW 25 of 30 COMMENTS
vikprez:
o well, at least I surviived that day!
mrdeity:
I like the new profile pic! 