Appetite for Distraction – Another Day.

He wakes up. He is happy. A cat proceeds to press his buttocks into his face. He takes a shower. He drinks a coffee. He eats some toast. He is at work. He goes to the bathroom and he stands at the urinal and then he realises that he needs to shit so he manages to get to the toilet in time and he does a shit and he also urinates and he sits and thinks because that it was that little room is for for shitting and pissing and thinking and then he fills in a list of black writers and he has only read two books on a list of 100 and this makes him feel he has a large gap in his knowledge even though he is familiar with most of the books on the list. There will always never be enough time to read all the books he wants to read. Then he watches Glenn Greenwald eviscerate another journalist. Then he prepares for work and then he reads about ancient literature in Timbuktu and then he reads about white privelige written by someone with that thing which is rare and then he watches white people running things or ruining things but probably running things and then he hopes his car will be fixed and then he worries about money and then he thinks about amazing sex and then he worries about money again and he wonders what next year will bring and he hopes that he will get to see the national Christmas tree and he wonders why Joe Biden keeps getting let out to say things but perhaps he’s being let out because he says things and his filter free word soup is what his bigges strength is to obfuscate and misdirect like a political magician. Then he reads about black face in Bolivia and how white people said it wasn’t racist but of course it’s racist he thinks to himself then he eats thanksgiving for lunch again which is amazing and then later on in the evening he wonders how he got here and he really wants to drink wine but he has no wine so instead he writes words and adds the words up together and they are a lot of words but they don’t mean very much but he keeps them together anyway because in a few days time he might look back at them and find that they do mean something. Then he goes to sleep.

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The Sleepcoat League

Armchair anthropologist, sometime scribe, freelance philosopher, amateur artist, part-time poet, musical maven, alliteration aficionado.

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