lost your interest?

don't blame you. blame me. been faggily scheduled to work this last past couple weeks like constant hours. vision is blurry and the days become one.

haze. a dark figure stumbles over the clothing hanging and lost around his bed. hits a clock to stop it from the never ending squeal, and punches into his loathsome day.

puts on a shirt he wore the day before.

puts on the pants he wore to his uncles funeral.

an hour drive to work with nothing but the radio chatter and traffic to take his mind off the monotony. and even those in themselves are the monotony.

gets to work and he's happy he's there. for he gets paid for another day. pretends to know something for a couple hours. goes home. if he didn't pick up take out he starves because he can't cook. crawls into his crumpled bedcovers.

haze. a dark figure stumbles over the clothing hanging and lost around his bed. hits a clock to stop it from the never ending squeal, and punches into another loathsome day.