How much of your life do you really plan? I plan very little. In fact, I plan nothing other than how much money I can spend at the most. That’s the beginning and the end of my planning. All else goes unplanned. Road trips. Dinner outings. Casual walks. Taking a swig of cold beer in the evening. Smoking a cigarette. Leaving town for three days. Calling sick at work.
I never go shopping. Supermarkets bore me. I love electronics though, so I always stop by at an electronics store and check out what new they’re selling. I haven’t bought a single piece of clothing in two years. That’s me and there’s nothing heroic about it. I do not even remember changing my clothes. I am a filthy piece of shit.
Night. I guess I’ve had too much. No beer left. Few cigarettes that will last a couple of days. My phone is discharged. I am trying to hold myself together as I write this. I am gliding alone through the thick of night. My wings are itchy and bloody and my face isn’t that of an angel or a messiah. I curl myself into a fetus and hope to reduce to atom.
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