Dire Straits playing.

Dire Straits playing. Walked downstairs with an empty can of beer. Sat in my chair. Dire Straits playing. All the booze gone. All the evening almost gone. Feels too hot in this t-shirt. An urge to remove it and sit naked under the fan and feel an erection. Looking at the empty beer can on my table, Dire Straits playing. It’s dire times and Dire Straits is playing. The problem with being less foolish than the ones around you is that sooner or later, you would have to carry a lot of shit that you’re not supposed to carry. The problem is people doing favors to you. The problem is you getting crushed under the burden of those favors. Better to stab everyone from the front, right in their ribs or better, right in their foreheads, than take shit from anybody. A long pause. A long long pause. Dire Straits is gone. What the hell is this playing on my speakers? No idea. I keep listening anyways. Maybe it will turn out to be something good, and if it does not, then so what. A bad song cannot bring this world to it end. Or can it?

Copyright  © Tomic Riter. All rights reserved.

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