Maybe it is the voice or the inverse of it. What is the inverse of voice, anyway? I believe it is void. Yes. Emptiness and the echo. It is a reflection, not a source.
Yellow is starting to grow over me much like the plain rays of mid-day sunshine have. I have spent so long sleeping indoors behind the protection of my window blinds the yellow never touched an inch of my soul.
Yes, I heard you are functioning off of three hours of sleep. What did you do in your adolescent life that made you end up here anyway. I would love to say that I am sorry but I have known all too well that not everybody in shit automatically qualifies for my deepest sympathies. Are the razor sharp teeth of your seventh month old on your lactating nipples the cause behind your delusional behavior? Or did you catch three hours instead of the doable eight because your boyfriend is a junkie who screws fucking amazingly when he is stoned?
I sympathize equally with both, provided being screwed hard is something you despise. Who am I kidding here. You have to be a Lezzie to oppose that. Wait there, am I lurking in to discomforting waters now? I suppose I am. I can see the curling nerves in your face muscles. I see your eye balls gaze down in to your minimalist cleavage while I use my pocketed hands to hide the melons I have let loose on this fine, unwinding Friday night. Is my demeanor forcing you to size yourself up against a woman of a different race, color and class? We are two people at the opposite end of this flimsy stainless steel counter, but your tired eyes are yelling at me. They keep trying to tell me that we share more in common than I could ever imagine.
I remember being behind the register too, and actually you are right. We do have more in common than what appears to the naked eye. I would tell you the story but that life is behind me, at least temporarily. Also your boss is not very friendly looking anyway. I do not have a way to make your day better. Customers are in general quite helpless. I understand better now that I am on the other side of the fence. I coped with it very easily. There was a time I started loving my job and started tapping out tips with my charisma. It was exactly then when I had a falling out with the boss. Things usually crash for me when they are at their optimal operating level. I suppose it never is meant to last you know…that maximum output high that you get. It is just sad.
Sad. Sad is nice. Nice is also nice. But grief, ecstasy, excitement and misery are fucking excellent. As you see, I side with extremities. Ahh, my nipples agree.