no one’s talking to me. i see a hair in the toilet bowl water in the shape of the letter “s” while i’m splashing my pee into that water in the toilet bowl and it’s mixing all together and swirling the “s” around and i know tons of people that have the letter “s” at the beginning of their name and loads of other things that are current and useful in my life that also start with “s”. but i’m not getting anything. not one peep. even the thoughts i think about how it must mean something can be written off as just my own thoughts telling me that it must mean something. the stars line up and the clouds make bunnies and robots and sailboats and they are still just clouds. i get the echo of blood in my cochlea. waves on the beach trapped in shell. i want to see a pot hole and have a fucking revalation. i want to see religion in a cornflake. i want to make the connection from a stain on a tree stump. i want epiphanies. i want realizations. i get frost on windows and cat vomit. no purpose. striving for nothing. not literally, nothing being something and all, rather, nothing to strive for. nothing of worth. waking up with a new found zest one day would be fantastic. and then just cut loose and go goal setting all over town not stopping until goals are met and their hands are well shaked. even failures just get you closer. and flash bulbs pop and blurbs are tagged on and the world is soon notified that you are indeed doing things. even if those things are obscure and pointless and only in a round-about way helping with anything of any remote importance. like building a cooling system for an ice hotel. and for me? still the silence. pass on by cloud, see if i care. i’m flushing it anyway.
