paperback writer
stress makes the sane crazy and the crazy unbearable
July 5, 2005 6:30pm exactlyI'm so tourretty tonight I'm eating my cord, running my tongue over it a thousand and five times in a desperate last-ditch effort to even out my entire life. It's that damn book, Motherless Brooklyn. But God I love it.Feeling faint, she�s stuck in eights. Wanting to wait as long as possible before giving in and paying for food, she pours herself a coffee. Staring at the putrid black swirling tar, she reaches for the sugar. Onetwothreeforfivesixseveneight shakes and she rips and pours into the stagnant black mass. Cream and taptaptaptaptaptaptaptap cream and repeat. Nothing is helping. Nothing disguises the fact that underneath the sugar-sweet smiles and cream-smooth voice, there is the coffee, thick and bitter and all too necessary to make it through the days.
This essay is gnawing at my conscience and I have to stop being a slacker. Now.
FIN. 1:39 a.m., Tuesday, Sept. 27, 2005
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