I never know when to throw out a razor. I feel uncomfortable when I
shave, and I don't remember if it was any better the first time I used
it. My girl says to check if it's dull, but how am I supposed to know
that? Because it hurts when I shave? I've seen commercials. It seems
like a real issue. Rust forms at the blade's edge, but I don't see it
because I don't wear my glasses in the shower. I start scraping at my
face with an orange and black fermented shaver, and that's when I throw
it out and pick up a new one. But did I throw out a perfectly good
razor? This one feels good, though. A little calmer. Should I shave off
the 'stache? Better keep the 'stache, and the soulpatch. The rest can
go, and maybe it will grow thicker next time, once it feels the cold.
Fucking shower, I already feel that dang cold. Who thought of putting a
window next to the shower head? A long window! Could cover anyone's
whole torso. Does feel good in the summer, though. Doesn't matter
anyways. I can never shave this thing close enough. It will inevitably
be once again tomorrow. But not forever.
Frigid. I don't like where this towel hangs. There is nowhere else to
put it that makes sense. The bathroom is too small. When I hang the
towel over the toilet it falls in, so let me not go and do that again.
Do I leave my hair to dry in the air? It looks good when I just rub real
hard at it with a towel, make it all frizzy. Mad pores. But looking
thin. What have I got that makes you want to love me? Now is it my body? Yeah, I really have control over my muscles. Or someone I might be? Have to get this belly pulling into control. I bet I'd look real sexy belly dancing on a drunken night. Or somethin' inside me?
You better tell me
tell me
It's really up to you
have you got the time to find out
who I really
Suck in my stomach all the way and move some organs around to make space
for the face. Should get a haircut, or wait for it to get longer. Where
was the barber I went to last night? Last time? It actually is close to
the bar we were at last night. Heh, funny. Fuck. Why do I feel this
way? Why get angry at someone because you're drunk? And why not just
come out and admit your fears? Alphabet City, right by C on ninth. No,
but the barber was actually on first, but maybe also close to ninth? On
C, where it gets dense, like Puerto Rico. On C, like my grade, for the
night. No wonder I''m having a horrible gag reflex, that's what Tequila
does to you. Tequila used to make me feel sexy, or so I thought, and was
pretty convinced it had the same effect on everyone else. Was it a
coincidence that I took to bed more often than not under the influence
of the intoxicant? Los Suicidas mescal, I dream you are true. But
only in dreams do you swallow tequila and drunk your tongue poetic, and
your imagination insightful. No, it's the same result, a chipping quiet
from the mouth as it seals shut around the rim of a glass. And the
love, the sexy adventure doesn't come from distilling. Maguey, it is not
in you. You can swallow the worm, but it won't worm up your libido. A
placebo for lovemaking, like a movie is a placebo, and the picking-up of
the tab and the tender ride home and the tender kiss goodnight and the
not so tender yanking pull to the side, pulling closer to you and
consent written in the eyes of someone who is pretending to pull away,
actually pulling closer as it pulls away, attempting to create a gravity
or magnetism while repelling. How can one truly push away from love
without pulling love straight down with you? I need to learn to stop
overbrushing my teeth. I'm gonna be late to work. Better take another
hit. Now is it my body, spit.
This shirt is dirty but will have to be. Guess I'll wear black jeans.
It's Wednesday. Must be forty-two already. Won't have time. Better just
hit the door. The door. Where is it? That I need? Maybe I have it all. I
have nothing to do anyways. The book. I forgot the book. And the
recycling. If I ask you a question, actually, may I ask you three
questions? Hello sir, if I start a sentence, and within that sentence I
pose three different inquiries before I end it, does that count as one
question, or three questions? Is a question only an inquiry within any
sentence?
Smells of honey in front of this Paki deli, intoxicating to sit out here
in the early morning and sip on a coffee. That guy must be crazy to
bring a girl out here. He must have some connection to this place. This
graffiti art looks like me. Tired. Dewey. Shaky, why am I still shaking?
Dark shaking, dark shake, the shake. Don't shake the boat baby.
Glossy curls down to the dimples on the lower back on this acid wash
denim jacket and black dress, like a glove around the waist and intimate
at her v panty-line. Could follow something like that into any hotel,
even this one. Oh, let me pick this up for you. Hm, looking good, but
you're like twelve. That's embarrassing. Looking like a real creep right
now. There's something to be said about a smiler, though. A smile, open
your eyes wide, invite someone to come in. Want to get to know you. I
want to get to know you. I need to get to know you. I'd like to, you
know, know you. Can you feel that?
