fetology

"I just got off work. I work at an ice cream store. I scoop ice cream into cups, cones, pint containers, quart containers, coffins, and body bags. I work behind a counter. I'm kind of like a bartender. I watch the pretty girls pass the window that looks out onto the sidewalk. I'm the guy in the ice cream store. I have been here eleven hours. My legs ache.

I just got off work, it's 2:30am. I'm hungry so I go to the only place that's open. 7-Eleven. I get the same thing every night. I sit alone on the curb and eat. I have to walk to my apartment. My apartment is home. I don't want to go home. Home is dark, home is lonely. Home is cold storage. I'd rather go almost anywhere except home.

I just got off work. I signed on for extra hours at the ice-cream store so I could have somewhere to go. I go back into the 7-Eleven to get a Coke for the walk to the apartment. It's a long walk. I don't want to go to the apartment. The apartment knows I'm coming. The apartment knows I have nowhere else to go. The apartment is smiling. It shuts off the heat and waits for me to fall in. I leave the 7-Eleven and walk down Wisconsin Avenue. I walk past the ice-cream store and check the door to make sure it's locked.

I just got off work. I hate my life. I hate myself. I feel ugly, unwanted, mad, mean, cold and condemned. I make the walk to the apartment. I pull out my folding shovel and dig down six feet to my front door."

- Henry Rollins