They Don't Laugh At Jokes. They Laugh At Tragedies.

I am more out of place at this point in time than my sunglasses on the city bus. I am more out of place than a sarcastic comment at a funeral. I can't wear my heart on my sleeve, because, for once, I've got function on my mind.

The backs of my eyelids should be coloring books instead of words and syllables and letters. I have been trying to write for weeks, but (as I'm sure you noticed) I have been blocked and blocked. All I can do with my vocabulary is reverse words and find out how it looks.

What would you do if you answered the door and there was a gangster holding a gun?
What would you do if you answered the door and there was a gun holding a gangster?
What would you do if you answered the gangster and there was a door holding a gun?
What would you do if you answered the gun and there was a gangster holding a door?
Which one is most likely? Do you care? Do I?

I could be a walking thesaurus and correct you when you say ripe in the wrong context (or wrong in the ripe context). I could be a hangnail that makes you bleed in the most boring sort of way. I could be an mad cow who yells angry things without anyone to direct anger at. I could be an alcoholic who drinks wine from a box on a Wednesday night and watches Top Design. I could call you nine times and text you over and over. You don't need to answer. You don't need to call me back, because my phone is dead. My dead is phone.

I cannot be an honest man who makes promises. I could be an honest man. I could be one who makes promises. Don't ask for more. I am not divine. I am not royal. My name is not Elvis.

Words are just words are just letters out of order.

Once again my life is breaking into fragments, and I should have accepted all invitations. I told Steve that everything sounds Spanish if you add an "aciones" on the end, and only a few of the words you make will be real, but you will have invented the rest, and those are the ones that you'll forget, and those are the ones that matter. Matteraciones, I guess.

Now, please please let me sleep. Please let me breathe. Please let me make a scene. The camera's rolling, annnd...

Cut.