i am at the mall, buying some new ankle socks.
i feel absolute, like all bad decisions.
i look at small chested women and cry really hard,
because small chests have fucked us,
Mountain Dew has fucked us,
the earth has fucked us,
we are fucked by animals,
by other people like Diane Sawyer,
by the world, in general, as a whole,
we are all fucked hard,
and there is nothing i can do about it,
i can go to the mall
and sit on a bench in the food court,
i can eat nuggets and call my wife,
and look at something on fire on the tv
while i go over the list of things i want to buy in my head,
things like guns, and people,
a new hat, a Jack Spade bag,
the universe, eternity,
deep and unavoidable confusion,
a case for my iPhone,
a new car, peanut butter,
and the cost of never thinking again.
i will consider the time,
the implications of avoiding responsibility
and how my actions will create reactions
based only on the perceived reality of others,
and i will fit myself into that reality
because it is important to the people i care about
and i am not more important than them,
i am as important as them.
i am as important as people i do not like.
i am fucked, like everyone.
we are fucked together.
we are all fucked together.