- Mental Junkyard… mind the dogs

morning story	Sep 4th, 2007 10:58:37 pm - Subscribe
Its early, and raining. Skinny leg boots, small buttocks and bad haircuts abound at the only open coffee location on camus. People sho up with "I just woke up" hair do's and "I'm late for class" walks. People order coffees with the urgency of "I've got to get back I might miss something". People sit alone, or together and discuss things. Im sitting alone. I'm wondering what I can do to make myself more comfortable, to make the rain stop, to make the sun shine. I am trying to convince the wind to stop blowing, the trees to grow faster, the climate to renig on its pan to destroy me, because it is too early. Suddenly I notice, over the pop radio rubbish, that the coffee cart has resorted to its false sincerity by calling the names of the people who it serves. I despise this, and although I have some ideas why I'm not 100 percent sure they are the root of the matter. In intend to talk about this with my therapist. I type without looking at the screen. I pretend to be fascinated with the rain swirls and this generates a real fascination with the apparently cross directional down pour. I've created myself into a character. I've made myself into a morning story.
mood: charming	(0) comments