I'll Show You the Life of the Mind

Did I turn off the alarm or just turn it down? That song was on, the one by Santana, and then I...I what.

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...with a handle in your hand. You go back, Jack. Do it again... Is that Santana? ...Wheel turnin’ round and round, you go back, Jack. Do it again. How can it still be six minutes? My watch has turned over five times since it was at seven.

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I wish I hadn’t worn these pants. The tag is itching me. It always itches me.

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Why don’t I cut out that tag? I always say I’m going to cut it out. Why don’t I ever do anything? I do nothing I say I’ll do. I gotta do something with my life. This fucking tag.

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Maybe if I lean this way.

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This fucking tag. If it wasn’t so dark, I would’ve grabbed the Homer Simpsons. They should’ve been just on top. Seriously, why do I live here?

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The ass material is getting a bit thin in those Homer Simpsons. I should look into replacing them. It’s soft, though, the ass. They’re nice to wake up in on Saturday.

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If I was a girl, would I put as much thought into my underwear as they do? Do I not care because I’m a guy, or is my apathy stronger? Was it written in my dad’s spunk that I’d be a slob no matter who I was? Really, though, I can’t figure why girls think it matters to us what pants they’re wearing. It’s not the ultimate goal to see the pants.

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Panties sounds like a really dirty word. Maybe that’s just because I feel funny saying it. Panties. Panties. Nope. Not gonna start.

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What the hell is that jumper?

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Oh Christ, here we go. The platform is almost vacant, and you stand there. Right there. With your inward grunts as you inhale that bacon baguette into the warm vacuum on your face. I can see up your nose, you hog. Licking your lips. Num num num num, that’s it. Keep it going for the next four minutes; they’ll fly by.

"Num num num num."

Look at your little shoes. What are those? Is there a Ken doll barefoot somewhere?

"Num num num num."

When did you reach the point that you stopped caring what a fat fucking swine-breathed slob you are? Did you trap some harelipped hag and get complacent or did you just give up? God, I can smell his heat! It's Beck's and aftershave.

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"Num num num num."

Crisps, too?

"Num num num num."

What do you contribute to this planet besides methane?
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'The train now approaching platform 1 is the delayed 8.38 service to…Cannon Street.'

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That’s it. Step closer and crowd me. Gotta be first, gotta be first.

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Jesus, look at their faces. They look like someone told them their father killed their mother and they realised they don’t care. You know, dude, you can take all the little steps toward me you want. I know you’re there.

"After you."

He must’ve seen there are plenty of seats.