Chester A. Arthur used to be my hero, but now

“Now, that is a devil’s cup right there.”

I considered killing myself again. Or him. I think I would much rather kill him. But it would be far less economical. The world would replace him without trouble and I would have wasted a bullet on an assembly line douche. If I shot myself the game would be over. Simple. Mostly. I put the gun away and went back to listening to “Stairway.”

//

my thoughts come in fragments. they can build on each other, if i choose to take them in a particular direction for a while, but they are always undercutting each other. they are always subversive, as if they don't want me to take any one path, go too far down any one road. "It's my nature." - the Scorpion.

something about consistency. a story then.

In the half light of dawn, James almost mistook his hat for the garbage can and threw up in it anyway.

//

"To be a rock and not to roll." - the Led