uhmmmm...theres nothing to see here, please move along toking

Jan 22 22:11 UTC 2002

borrowed time 
borrowed life
borrowed lies

ammounts to nothing
more than faded dreams
cracked yellow paint
falling thick and steady
from too old stucco

leads to little more
than late night drives
weak coffee
consumed greedily
over too long games of spades

I sit at Denny's everynight that the change in my pocket can allow the 
$1.40 required for a bottomless cup of coffee, and on the nights where 
I'm lucky I get to sit with a crazy old lady, whos really not that 
crazy, some young kid, just barely 18, and sooooo full of optimism 
that I just want to smack some sense into him, or theres the ex-
prostitute that just doen't know what to do with life anymore, or the 
male "escort" and don't dare call him a Gigolo. I get there around 11 
and leave around 4 on those lucky nights. 
When I'm not so lucky I sit there by myself, surrounded by the too 
loud patrons and realize that I couldn't pick a one of them out of a 
crowd, or more importantly, they couldn't me. I sit at a table for 4 
and stare forlorn at the thin brown on beige ceramic and slowly fill 
the old red and black book with drivel and whining and pale drawings 
that will one day be etched in my skin as a symbol of everything I 
used to believe that I could be until the day I finally woke up.
Good morning.

response 2 of 3:

Feb 6 05:07 UTC 2002

This kind of thing isn't really my bag.  I liked some of the word 
pictures, though.