you and i were kidding ourselves both when we thought there would only be one post today. t’ain’t happening, kiddies. the willpower show is across the hall, to the left. in a well-kept room. this shantytown is my compulsive stomping ground.
why are random hookups like the moot points of life? they shouldn’t be. they should be learning experiences. yesterday i had a nightmare in which all my random hookups were there in costume taunting me so i couldn’t tell who was who. i guess they follow me around. even when they’ve had enough in real life. my brain keeps them around. and why shouldn’t it? they all have their whole personas pared down to the few characteristics i remember about each of them.
raging archetypes floating around like alternate personalities in my skull. i take the one thing i remember they had going for them at the time and i blow it out of proportion. and one day mr good legs becomes simply LEGS. and mr. witty becomes simply a giant talking and smiling head. pothead becomes a giant blunt and so on and so forth.
i’m glad they still exist in my head though. as giant static larger than life people. what’s in a random hook up? that by any other name would be just as ridiculously surreal. the latest one for the history books shall be christened SOCKS.