feels like i am 'failing' at maintaining existential coherence
keep thinking 'when will the train get here' while sitting on my futon
flatulence was just released
pretty loudly
by me
i am the only one suffering
the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune
going to make another bowl of cereal
going to create a religion for the plebes to follow
going to usurp a key terrorist leader and turn al qaeda into a babysitting club
i want to crush something microscopic
to prove that i am large and of great consequence
worried that the world could realistically end without my knowledge of it ending
this poem feels 'out of control' or something
trying to download a movie illegally
had to sort through which versions were better quality
decided on the shittiest one
out of respect for the novelty of what 'bootlegging' once was
water seems pretty important