I could have waxed vicious about the debacle known as the
Presidential Election, and god knows I wanted to, but the reality is
that words cannot completely and accurately encompass my rage as a
human being and an American who feels as if he has no real country to
claim anymore.

I could spit venom, condemn this country for so much, but the
reality is that I don’t have the heart right now.  But I will
leave you something for your trouble…

My Flag Is The Color of Late Night Ceiling.  On My
Flag Are Stars.  They Have All Blown Their Brains Out.  Their
Shattered Brilliance Is Scattered All Over The Worn Cloth…

When I walk the streets, I avoid eye contact with people.  I
look at the street.  I look at storefronts.  I look away from
their faces.  When they see me, they call out my name and embarass
me.  They are loud and stupid.  I pretend I’m someone else, a
guy named Ed.  It works and I can feel myself relax a little and
then I can look up and out.

I stop acting like myself and more like Ed.  I am divorced from myself.



2 responses

  1. Down around the village there’s a selection of bars… The Locker Room, The Chug, Dill Street, The Bird (used to be B-Dubs), upstairs of the coffee house MT Cup there’s a lounge called Motinis. Any bars off campus are pretty far into town and full of hillbillies… or in muncie i guess you’d just call em white trash.  Be sure to get a chili dog from Carters on the corner.
    Have a good time!
    xoxo  Jess
    drunk dial me if you want 7562159394.

    November 5, 2004 at 3:22 pm

  2. ..really?

    November 7, 2004 at 1:21 am

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