i wanted to start something...
but things always do a good job of distracting me..
people and their whims
seem to have more sway than mine.
but tonight i lost a game
again. that's only because i've been too tired to play them lately
but i wasn't hurt by the defeat: just tired. so came back...
forced
to drive a car and left off at this same apartment building: got the least
amount ov pleasure out ov everything and ended up on the bottom floor.
walked in to my roommate's leaving music. closed the door behind
me, back out into the courtyard... around a side and up the stairs to check
an empty mail box.
insert key expect nothing, recieve nothing.
the
bald man, who i haven't yet had occasion to talk with, was there by the
front door again. under the gaurd-lights watching his dog shit...
get more
relief than most of us from something like that: those things are always
happy.
but now he looked up at me as i put the key in the lock.. as i opened
the door and had to pull my eyes away to see the box,
which was hardly
as captivating.
looked back up and he still stared at me. i don't
know how i've changed. i waved and walked back down the stairs towards
my door...
very slowly,
noting the bending of my shoes and the sound it
made on the concrete,
felt like i was in school or some of the other dreaded
institutions i end up in.
but wanted to talk with him;
would rather
not just walk back into the room and fall asleep like i'd said.
i turned
and walked back,
turned
and walked back again:
working on tack.
went through the pool's area. jumped the wall:
the man was gone.
as is
their wont...
so i went out side and
walked round back...
my body shook from the cold and i felt my head closing
in again... felt my sleep deciding for me. and came back in to follow the
stairs up around one corner and round the building's inside...
looking
in each window as i walked passed, gradually walking towards the top floor...
towards the rooftops... seeing slits of life from inside:
people tired
at the end of another empty day... watching television again, dirty underwear
and worn-out expressions as the only possesions left for them.
-the
man who walked above us every night, the man who screamed out at us at
night.
the boy who took my quarters.
the two guys i always hear from my
side-walk drifting down from the window... i looked at them and they felt
accused; i felt awkward. passed in the hall with a bit of a nod and
mumbled words: at least they were walking out together. i didn't have that
luxury... or dependance.
i kept moving past them and nodded to the
boy who took my quarters again... passed him for the stairwell and jumped
the wall onto the roof: listening to my shoes on the grainy surface...
listening for the cracking sound the people would here like they had people
above them with no courtesies what so ever..
i'd have no dates tonight
but tomorrow.
didn't see anyone, just a million dimly-lit windows
in rapid succession
back to the ground floor,
back to my empty room with
its lights off.
back to the man above me,
back to the bald man i couldn't see.
i've got that horrible
feeling.
"drive on" she said... so drive on...
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