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Girl On Queen Street


Saturday, July 5, 2008
one flight down


6.30am on a Saturday and I jolt out of bed. Like my body's alarm clock finally kicking in. It's a SATURDAY STOOPID. Eyes wide open, I force them shut, only to open them again 2 hours later. Great. So here I rest, back upright, in the living room, where the fan's labor wrestle the humidity of living on the second floor. Somehow, this works. The sounds of the younger half working his masterpieces in the kitchen, the aroma of grease, the aggravated asphyxia, the mother's threats to mess up his room like how he's messed up her kitchen.

I'm not used to this. But it feels good.

Saturday mornings for 3 are love. I should stay home more.
You, on the other hand, shouldn't come home at all.
I think we're all better off that way.


It vexes me to know that this is one unnecessary stress I can't discard of that easily. Being a person of such principles, this is going against it, just by letting you hang around at home. Ugh.



I need a good book.
And a good drink.


oh quit whining already zoo.



Location: The Living Room
Music: Telescope Eyes - Eisley



11:41 AM