Do Something Boring / 5.24.16 / 10:26-10:56

I am sitting in a room.

I am sitting in my room.

I am sitting in my room considering my sheets.

I am sitting in my room considering my sheets and wondering just how long it’s been since I last cleaned them.

I am sitting in my room considering my sheets and wondering just how long it’s been since I last cleaned them and I don’t care.

I am sitting in my room considering my sheets and wondering just how long it’s been since I last cleaned them and I don’t care and that makes me worry about what kind of person I’ve become.

I am sitting in my room considering my sheets and wondering just how long it’s been since I last cleaned them and I don’t care and that makes me worry about what kind of person I’ve become or if I’ve become any person at all.

I am sitting in my room considering my sheets and wondering just how long it’s been since I last cleaned them and I don’t care and that makes me worry about what kind of person I’ve become or if I’ve become any person at all or maybe I’ve always been the kind of person who didn’t give a shit about sleeping on clean sheets.

I am sitting in my room considering my sheets and wondering just how long it’s been since I last cleaned them and I don’t care and that makes me worry about what kind of person I’ve become or if I’ve become any person at all or maybe I’ve always been the kind of person who didn’t give a shit about sleeping on clean sheets and that seems exceedingly likely to me considering what a “man” I’ve always been despite my best of intentions.

I am sitting in my room considering my sheets and wondering just how long it’s been since I last cleaned them and I don’t care and that makes me worry about what kind of person I’ve become or if I’ve become any person at all or maybe I’ve always been the kind of person who didn’t give a shit about sleeping on clean sheets and that seems exceedingly likely to me considering what a “man” I’ve always been despite my best of intentions which are or were…what exactly?

I don’t know.

I can’t remember.

It’s just a silly thing to say, I think.

A silly thing to say, I know.

A silly thing I say because I don’t know and I don’t think about who I am or was with any clarity anymore.

A silly thing to say because I know now that I didn’t think with any clarity before.

A silly thing to say and yet I say it all the time even though I know it’s silly or perhaps because I know it’s silly and so what if it is a silly thing? I can say something sometimes. I can say something silly all the time.

I can say silly things if they please me and could say them with even more regularity if their silliness pleases the peanuts.

But am I really saying something silly or am I trying to say something silly or am I lying about saying something silly and if I am then why am I bothering other than to set my brain of course from the very real and round and off-puttingly brown stain I keep trying to cover with pillows rather than just get off my ass, strip my bed and go to the Laundromat.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s