keeping myself honest

To wake without a purpose is to excersize enormous amounts of willpower...only when you're already in the business of giving yourself too much credit. Today was a drive across the Mojave desert. Blinded mind behind the wheel, thinking how the desert looks like it's dusted with sugar. There's a cloud in the sky that's shaped like Europe and maybe you start wondering what tonight's hotel will look like? Two stories? One? Indoor pool? Fucking that crawls through the walls? No. rarely that.

Americans don't fuck anymore. I've decided. You would too, staying where I do. True, on this budget we keep it as clean as we can, but some nights you wind up winding down some yellow hallway towards a door thick as cake with a frosting lock, carpet crawling over itself to reach you and you expect...illegal noise. A cetain amount. You watch Nick At Night with the sound low-one bump and the thumbs already sitting on mute. Mute. Head cocked to the side. Standing up. A creak. A nothing. Nothing. No fucking.