stand still, control your breathing.
You look so pretty.
stand still, control your thieving.
You look so pretty.
stand still, control your thinking.
you look so pretty. 

look ill, run loose your breathing
you look so ugly.
look ill, run loose your thieving.
you look so ugly.
look ill, run loose your thinking.
you look so ugly.


Disclose all you hope for me to see.
Hide all things you’d rather me not know of thee.
Sooner than later…we’re nothing like we used to be.
Sooner than later…you won’t be what I knew you to once be.
Sooner than later…I won’t be what you think of me.  

It never fails 

When I depart from school & arrive at my parent’s house on Monday they’re either:

a) already in bed asleep
b) or already in bed watching t.v. waiting to fall asleep. 

When I divorce myself from work @ quitting time and arrive at my parent’s house they’re either:

a) headed to bed after cleaning up their dinner plates
b) or finishing the last crumbs on their dinner plates before headed to bed.

Sometimes my mother will make something both appealing & healthy, in which case she’d make an extra serving so that I can eat when either my last lecture comes to an end or when sun of my shift has finally settled. As of late this has become a very rare occurrence as my mom has been afforded a new found freedom in no longer babysitting her grandchildren. She now spends her time adorning her living room & kitchen with the appropriate season’s decorations or other arts & crafts. I don’t know what to make of it. My father on the other hand has allowed himself to grow much more calm. He’d rather avoid an argument with my mother then engage in some insignificant dispute over something along the lines of who works harder the man in his workplace or the stay at home mom as she manages the household. Instead he choose to maintain his yard, feed his pets, puff his cigarettes & drink his lite-beer. 

On Monday & Wednesday, after hours of exercise, principles and theories of international finance, diving head first into ‘la literatura, cultura y historia de hispanoamerica’ and finally swimming in the vast ocean of global marketing I reach a lonely house. One whose only method of communication manifests in the sounds the floorboards make every step I take. I open the refrigerator and find anything worthy of being deemed a vegetable. I make sure it isn’t rotten and attempt to make something to consume. I sit and talk to my four walls about everything and nothing at all. I stare at a screen. I day dream. I night dream. Yet, I’m rarely ever afforded the suggested hours of sleep. When my attention span is finally exhausted my body shuts down-similar to the way induced amnesia works-without any recollection of it happening. 

On Tuesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday & Sunday after hours of standing on my feet creating a need for humans, who for the most part have no interest in any product I ever demonstrate due to their sedentary, lethargic lifestyle, I am lucky to begin ‘closing up shop’. If my manager can’t handle the stress my peers create she employs me to help her deal. I’m standing for a longer period of time making sure all paper work has been filled out and submitted properly, all appliances have been cleaned and sanitized properly, and finally that everything is in compliance with safety health codes. I’m finally free. I sit and start my mobile coffin and begin my journey back to my lonely home. Tuesdays & Thursdays call for a release of tension and stress via a nice, sweaty jog through a trail just 5 minutes south east from my home. Friday, Saturday and Sunday are Monday and Wednesday on repeat. I sit in my white room. I say everything to nothing and nothing to everything. I think. I feel….alone. I hear Janedog-sometimes I have no responsibilities to tend to and can take her for a nice brisk walk other times I’m saddened by her whimpers and yearning for my attention. 


I live alone. I don’t want.