Sunday, February 23, 2014

Don't hit my piano with your wine bottle.

I am getting phone calls from Detroit. My piano was desperately requested by the organizer of an event happening where I live. They solemnly swore that the people performing would not go Jerry Lee Lewis on it, but now the audience is drunk and people are banging the keys with empty wine bottles. At the end of the day, big dumb animals with heightened fashion senses and yearning genitalia is all we are.
I wish mental illness wasn't associated with weakness. I totally love it as a character trait- which probably means that I hardly suffer from anything. I bet people with real illnesses don't find it sexy at all.
Adi, I am going NUTS. I am so bored with everything. I didn't even change into real clothes today. I ate one meal. My teeth I brushed not. I heard recently that people who sit a lot have higher mortality rates than those who move about. My tailbone hurts from the weight of my lethargic being.
Tonight, I am going to brush my face and then apply about twenty different kinds of cream to it. Then maybe, I'm going to do day 5 of my 30 day abs challenge. I might rummage through my mom's kitchen in search of some alcohol too.
I wished I lived with a crystal genie, and that a sorority of good witches resided across the street.

No comments:

Post a Comment