I really hate the word "banal" if you say that word to me more than once a day in casual conversation, I think youre banal as fuck and what's even worse is that people always switch up the pronunciation, like does it rhyme with "anal" or "canal"

sometimes I feel like I'm swimming in an anal canal because the area around my apartment smells like a sewage plant and I'm already a bit compulsive about how often I do my laundry. 

there's this huge bruise on my ribs where I fell off the fence I was trying to climb. I was on my way to a job interview and thought taking a short cut was a genius notion. the hiring manager was like "blah blah blah the banal realities of this industry are determined by the blah blah ill informed blah blah mass produced customer " and I'm like "no freakin duh can I please have a job though?"

now the bruise is yellow and black like smoke trapped beneath membrane. the under armor I'm wearing is pressing against it in an unbearable but slightly pleasurable way. is that messed up? 

I think I'm having a bad day. 

when the temperature climbes above oneohfive (which happens often here right before the crack of autumn), I crawl into the walk in refrigerator in the warehouse district. I quarantine myself. pull the door shut, turn off the lights press my cheek to the cold concrete. 

I think about Dr. Seuss a lot. my man, T. Guyzel. he said you have to be odd to be #1. which changed my life in my wee youth because I was a pretty weird kid. not in the special snowflakey way. I suppose everyone is weird in childhood. I mean children are fundamentally weird. 

it's the things I remember that are weird. the dead grass. the neighbor girl who left me notes in the communal dog kibble. the piano lesson in which I finally learned to read treble clef. the cat powers album my mom listened to when she was drunk. the recurring dream of that scene in jurassic park where the velociraptor overcomes the mechanics of a door handle. could he figure out a revolving door which has more of a learning curve? I didn't know. I worried. 

now all I worry about is how much I relate to that "high all the time" song on the radio. I lay face down in cold storages and think of the face I'm supposed to be looking for in a week at school. I hope I find her.