Lines to the Middle of Nowhere.

I'm completely grateful for the fact that I have a job. It took long enough to get after all and even now I'm having a hard time with money. The one thing I hate most about my current employment, I have to work with irritable people who have most likely been driving all day and really just want to sleep. However, more often than not, these same people expect the world to be handed to them on a platter! Imagine this scenario: A two story hotel, during holiday season (i.e. opening of pheasant hunt season through the first few weeks in January) 10:58 p.m. A group of people all traveling in the same car, all women, come into said hotel asking for rooms. Not just rooms, first floor, single, King-sized non-smoking rooms. After hearing there are not first floor rooms left the become indignant, as though the hotel clerk has something to hide, maybe that clerk is actually lying, we dont' see that many cars in the parking lot, we're older, we need ground level rooms. The group of...

Perfectly manicured hands, shiny red lacquer. dainty arms, petite frame, cocktail dress, below the knee. Petticoat, thigh-high Cuban stockings snapped to garter. three-inch heels on patent leather pumps. A delicious sundae, topped with whipped ‘S’ wave curls. Picturesque strength and beauty. taxi wife to mother. Knuckles worn to bone, hands stiff with age, stomach plump from years of labor. Thick thighs above weakened knees. Blue, black, and purple skin decorations. Salt gathers in the corners of her eyes. wiped away with a Barbie smile. His dinner is on the table. French tipped nails on thin fingers, beautiful boulder sized diamond. Tight little body, hidden scars betray sexy silicone, sculpted Vogue, paper machéd by little hands. Sharp stiletto heels pierce souls. Black brown fishnets, followed by eyes, straight pins maintain cemented hair. Dominatrix with power to kill. taxi city to suburb. Days blur between office and kitchen chipped nails, swollen fingers, paper cuts sting her c...

I have crossed paths with worms after summer rainstorms suddenly finding themselves stranded mid-exodus towards the distant oasis where cement meets sod. In these moments, I am God. The fury of my will leaves these worms dehydration, taking it’s course. Due times creates crispy flesh. So many lost souls journey, from one world to the next. The first worm on the moon, the first human on the front lawn. In these moments there is no God. The loss of worms does not concern me. I am more concerned with the race I am losing against time. A loss of faith, No god will stop to usher me to grassy safety. just as I, God, did not stop for worms. This cement patio is rather warm, where the sun shines.

And I wondered Is anyone going to stop when I say when? I really have reached my ending point. Things have been going much too downhill for my tastes. School is out in three weeks and I've never felt like a bigger piece of shit. I absolutely despise phone companies. Or really I despise my own bad habits. The two girls in the vacintiy of my hearing are both talking on cell phones, while surfing on computers. An overload of media. I think my brain has been melting because of it. I have to leave the library in 20 minutes. I feel like my life is a coffee cup, perfectly happy and slightly full to begin with, then the overzealous waitress comes to offer me more coffee, scalding liquid the splashes slightly when it enters the cup then as the cup fills, more and more, she doesn't notice that she's too busy gabbing to quit pouring. The split second the cup becomes over full, all hell breaks loose as incredibly hot coffee is spilled waterfalling from the table top to the laps of ever...