Still bathing after all these years

Things I drive past on the way home from work, in no particular order:
- A large black garbage bag, presumably full of garbage
- Three stray dogs, or at least hungry-looking dogs, collarless
- One seemingly drunk Chamorro guy, staggering too close to the road
- Ghosts. Countless, invisible ghosts

You walk by the flower pot stuffed with cigarette butts on your way to get another beer from the cooler. You smile weakly at their faces without making eye contact. These are some of the things you do to fill the time in between being born and dying. There are other things, too, of course. Like going to the beach. And sleeping. There's also work, jobs of all kinds. Having sex. Falling asleep. These are some of the things you do, just to pass all the time you don't know you don't have.

"Why do I even bother?" I wonder sometimes. Why indeed.

You hold your hand in the cooler full of ice and beer and soda and a couple of leaves of grass here and there, you're trying to see how long you can last before finally giving up. You imagine your body slowly filling up with ice cubes.

"The ice is melting, melting," you think, "and all my broken glaciers are drifting away."

This is the kind of nonsense that fills your head more often these days, as your body fills up with ice cubes, knocking one into the other, melting.

Memory lane

This weekend was fun, wasn't it? Yes it was.

You went to the Dot Dot Dot concert pretty high, and left pretty drunk. Lots of funny faces. You remember it all as a series of blurry photos. Joser was a not-so cowardly lion and was, with Trey, dressed like a garbageman on casual Friday. Royce was a living skeleton. Together, they kicked out the jams and led you up a stairway to heaven. What fun!

What else happened? Something else must've happened. I can't remember.

I need to think about it.



Oh yeah. You wrote. And wrote and wrote. You took a break and wrote some more.

There was plenty of good food. And money. Plenty of money, falling from the sky.

Didn't anything else happen? I can't remember.

Whatever.