hours

i could live in a store

give me a hammock

is there air conditioning? i'm there

i won't bother any of the customers. i'll stay put on my hammock and read. i'll probably be so still they'll think i'm another one of those mannequins. yeah they make 'em unshaved now, the sales clerk will say.

one day i'll get bored and walk outside to the parking lot, look out at all those old sedans. boy, they really used to know how to make a car back then. not like these cheap plastic pieces of crap you see twisted up on the side of the beltway. sure, the new ones are nice to be in at night, but that's because you can't see anything. give me the old cars, that's what i say.

malls were built on such flat parcels of land. what i'd like to know is, were there ever any built into cliffs or tucked amongst rolling hills? maybe it didn't matter; after all, the eye candy was all inside the building.

the point is, i could be content, there in the back of the store, in a corner, in my hammock. hell, put me on a cot in a storeroom in the back. i can read my books and stare at the cieling.

if this invention has taught me anything, it's that you're bored no matter where you are. the heart still hurts, the days still seem to last forever, the silences still seem to drive you up the wall like they always did.