The Roommate’s Lament

Standard

The air of this place is fucking with my chi, man. There’s got to be a plan, an arrangement to this disorderly seeming tenement that we just don’t see. Just because you can’t see it doesn’t mean it’s nonexistent, right? Whatever. This isn’t my war to fight. I’ve come unarmed anyway, which is why no harm will come to me. I only see things in fragments (or is it figments?) but you don’t need special specs to see the unearthly pigment of these fucking walls, or the way the halls constantly quarrel with the floors for the prime real estate of your attention. And how the late light of each wasted day evaporates against the window panes…

-r. miller

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s