MOre Snow For Your Brain

And over and over again, the worst of it's past now. The internet said.
But it still looks pretty bad.
We're out of candles and matches.
Waiting for the roof to leak.
Holy shit I'm tired.
Hypochondria is exhausting.
All the symptoms of bleary eyes and numb limbs.
Resolutions down the drain.
Too many zeros in your future.
You're on the clock.
And digging out is the immediate future.
I'm not trying to do anything here.
I'm just a man indoors and underslept during the 57th snow storm of the season.
Pretty soon we'll be equipped for this kind of living.
Like in Minnesota or Canada where they don't even use roads anymore.
No, they're all Fifth Element'd out up there in the North.
FLying burrito stands and hover-cars.
They only see the ground in July and that's usually just to pick up anything they may have dropped throughout the year.
Then it's back to North American Hover-Living.
The air is a little cleaner.
And it's quieter.
Everyone's a Stranger.
and everyone is sort of okay with that.

and when you get through that

Another cup of cold coffee out of the World's Greatest Grandma mug that's been in out of these cupboards for the last 30 years.
I am not the World's Greatest Grandma but I use the mug anyway. It holds just the right amount of coffee.
One day we'll look back at all this and laugh.
But for now lose another layer of stomach lining driving yourself nuts during the quiet hours.
the small hours.
I need quiet. I need quiet and I need to be pissed off.
Or upset.
Or paranoid.
Don't get up, I'm not staying.
Eventually you realize you have to keep killing the same demons over and over again.
They don't die.
Their heads grow back.
You're still a big pile of insecure nerves.
You've never been anywhere.
You've never done anything.
And it never goes away.

Richard Nixon never got over being made fun of by rich kids.
Someone should write that book.
Richard Nixon, after resigning from office, becomes principle at a prep school and gives detention to the rich kids everyday. But one of their father's is a distant Kennedy cousin and he gets Richard fired and he ends up teaching US History at Public School #48 in the Bronx with a terrible pension and no dental plan.

And of course Nicolas Cage plays Nixon.
Nicson.

When you can't seem to get over the fact that the world never opened up it's arms and took you to it's bosom the best life raft is a giant heap of nonsense. It's all nonsense anyway, might as well make it your own.