A thickened, dusty, musty morning. I had a chance to live again last night and to delegate this morning away. Its the start of a crumpled period; no time for jokes and good old lashings. This day will be inert.
My eyes glaze over and floating by are numbers, spots, pinstripes, cufflinks, stinks of leather, monitors, keystrokes, 30 dollar haircuts, 2 buck coffees and million dollar men. Hold it together, I say to my sp***cter, push it in, just a few more minutes and you can let it all out. My fingertips are dry and cold and my joints ache. There is a slight lull in the back of my head and it is taking over, pushing out a dreary and slow modern Rock ballad.
Suck it up, straighten out, tuck it in.
Fuck you new day.
