I didn't manage to wake up on time. I lay for a long time in the warmth undercovers. I was listening to the radio. Watching the time I'd set aside for the morning go away. I show such an undeniable aversion to beginning my day. I must have known something. I was the flower that did not open today. I never managed to be me. I didn't know what to do.

I didn't have enough time. It was like I needed to think everything through. I didn't know what I was going to do about breakfast. I wondered if I had enough time. There was nowhere to go except the McDonals drive-thru. I kept thinkingf about how the intercom service system never detects a motorcycle.

I didn't have any idea what the hell I wanted. I thought about buying cigarettes. I wished I wouldn't.

I have many times thought that the chatter in my head was the very best of my ideas spilling out a hole in me.

Tonight I took a laborer's bath. Sat up and dripped water over me with my fingers. I didn't mind the way it ran down my face. It was a soft tickling. And I liked the way the water looked like my tears in a stream.

I thought about the girl's I've ever loved, but for whom I was not able to summon the courage. Those for whom I was absent upon the day they encountered me. There's not enough water.

And I let my head hang real low in my shoulders. There it was finally. I kept breathing evenly and low. I didn't look at anything but the water. And my legs. My feet hurt so much I drew them under me and rubbed at them. I crossed my arms so my hands grasped their opposite feet. And it was like I'd closed a circuit on myself.