muddling through

Raging loneliness lonesome lonely radical aloneness continues. Certain music makes it worse. Mozart definitely. Romantic or thoughtful movies or movies featuring an animal. One or two poets wreck me every single time. I know it’s me it’s my doing it’s my entirely fault. I accept the breach. Every Friday night late I put on my best silkies and fanciest shoes and prettiest dress and I make my hair full and satin I check the mirror my god I look beautiful and vibrant I look at my front door my telephone I look at my car outside with its brand new perky flywheel its fragrance I look at the computer the names and numbers hidden inside I go to my bed after that and crawl under the covers shoes and all and pleasure myself then smoke an imaginary cigarette in a deep sinkhole of lonely and cry hot animal tears and sometimes I sleep and sometimes I lie awake and consider doing it again on Saturday.