Harry Potter glasses stare back at me. The undefined womb in my dreams has me catapulting thoughts and ideas. Why does my head feel empty when I need it most. It’s those new pills. I think they are draining my soul. I ache to create but the words don’t come easily. There’s a blockage, there’s a wound, there’s the chains of capitalism that keep me frozen. They steal my time and pay me merely a dime and I cannot break the cycle because of MONEY. Just enough to barely make it, and only a week to drown if I were to just walk out like Thomas did. People. He was a lazy complainer.
But then again, I can’t really say much because I once walked out on a job after four hours. It was such bullshit. Working as a night auditor at a hotel. It made me sick to my stomach thinking about having to do it 40 hours a week for an eternity. I couldn’t take it. I didn’t fit. Don’t fit. I left. It was Colorado cold and I even left my winter coat behind. I didn’t want them to see me putting it on. I was crazy then as I am crazy now. I went to the mall, The Citadel it was called. That’s back when malls were all the rage and you could walk around smoking a cigarette. And that’s what I did. All the stupid and rebellious things I did that threw my life course offline. Where would I be now if it weren’t for that, that, that, this and that…
And here I sit. Today. It’s cold outside but the sun is shining. Wife sleeping behind me. Fans whirring. Cat running around outside the door. My fingernails need trimming. My car needs to be cleaned out. I need to do laundry. The house is dusty. The cat needs brushing…
My guts hurt. Emotional hurt and a feeling of unsureness. I work as a produce clerk in the local grocery store. The customers are a pain in the ass. Bitchy, whiny, dirty people walking around in their rebel flag clothes and with fat bellies hanging out. But not everyone. There are some genuinely nice people I encounter, and for them I make an effort. The others can crawl back to their run-down trailers and drink their Bud Light and enjoy their possum for dinner or supper… Whatever you want to call it. And to be oblivious to reality.
Where was I? Wanting to go back to Norway. Wanting to go back to Iceland. I ate better. I slept better. I felt free. And they were two of the most absolutely beautiful places I have ever been to. Roaming the streets of Oslo and Reykjavik was dreamy and different world. Living in this current calamity that is Amorika. It’s sad. It’s debilitating. It’s infuriating. It’s frightening. And I am stuck. Because of money. And time. And circumstances. And the dice of life.
What can I do?
Have another cup of coffee and think about it.
cereal after sex 
Your thoughts?