J9

I browse through things that nobody needs on top of a cloudy nation that tells me to cut my own hair to be different. I don’t like their subconscious feed and change the channel. I’m going somewhere new in a pilgrimage of sorts. She told me what she really meant once during a religious experience. She put her bed on the floor. ‘Fuck the frame’ so I’m on a plane. I use the space under my bed for storage. Maybe one day I’ll put our pictures under there. I’m writing on something that a future passenger may see essential to throw away. Some guilt follows me because of this but I’ve really needed to clear that oversized head of mine for quite some time now. This is my public apology to those with weak stomachs. For a paycheck or two, degrading on how demeaning your job is, you can buy an entire couch for your dog and lose my respect all in one swift card swipe. For slightly less you could even brand that roasting animal tissue that you call dinner with your initials. To prove my disgust I’d probably use this tool to brand your testicles in your sleep. Who is the sick one here? I can’t tell.