This time, it's personal.

I've been sitting here naked for awhile. I just can't seem to get up and put some clothes on. My nipples are getting hard and the door is partially open from my cat nonchalantly walking into my room without shutting the door. Asshole. But I smell his head and I'm not mad at him anymore. I can tell he's been messing with the plug-in air freshener, because that is what he smells like. Hawaiian breeze. How can someone even capture that scent? I'm hungry, but I don't feel like eating. I haven't felt this peppy in awhile. It's odd. Well, for me anyway- at this moment in my life. I used to be that way in my younger years, but things change and you learn things and experience new shit and whatnot. I'm hungry, but I don't want to eat. I might be schizophrenic, and you might be too. Let's just say that even though I don't really want to, I think I will smoke- Just so that I will get hungry and silly enough to shamelessly poor a heaping bowl of cereal at 12 in the ay em. 

So, I decided to put some clothes on. It is just way too cold in here and my nipples were beginning to slice into a whole other dimension- it was crazy. Like some Subtle Knife shit (by Philip Pullman). And, yes, I've decided to smoke a bit just to help me sleep. I'd rather inhale than swallow some pill. Well here we go- get the keys, open the box, take out the shit, sprinkle it in the bowl, and light. Now inhale, that's it. Pull up on the stem and suck. Listen to the bubbling- fast and hard. Like a gurgling sound, but it doesn't make you sick to hear it. This is the last bit I get for awhile until I get back from London and find a job. So, savor it. Or just appreciate it at least. Just fucking enjoy yourself. Bob Marley is etched on the side and I don't particularly like it, once I get to thinking about it. But, it's easy to forget and get used to. You can feel the difference; first you're touching smooth glass, then you move your hand down to thin, grainy lines- Bob Marley posed with a guitar and a microphone, but you can't really tell unless you hold it out a bit in front of you and turn it due to its cylindrical shape.
I miss you, my Zebra, so far up North. Soon I shall be there as well. If my life were a play, would it be a Tragedy? If it were, who/what would be the audience. I keep staring at my tattoo. I can't stop won't stop. Until I drop. Shop. Flop. Cops! -I almost got into it big time with them the other day. Sly shooting, fox. We got away that time!- Well, because they let us go. A fox caught in a snare set free by a hunter. Paradox. Share an ox. --I think it got wet a bit. It's sizzling and hissing at me. It looks wet. Better wait 'til it dries. Or not.
Now. Now, I am ready to slumber.