last morning checkout

one headphone in i against i by bad brains playing loudly in my head careless whisper playing in the hotel lobby there feels like a certain fitting theme to this on the final day of training before flying back to dusty dallas a placid giraffe on my shirt slip on vans comfy basketball shorts for […]

second to last day

missing mitochondria make missing home a hypochondriac nightmare homesick homespun home made hopeless hellstrings leading back to tattered wellsprings of winsome wonder so tired of the same four walls that aren’t the same four walls of a bed and breakfast prison of someone else’s idea of comfort the mitochondria are missing in a pool of […]

week two day one

the lobby is dead this morning no line at breakfast no families just me and the russians and their loaf of bread everyone else went home the new crew hasn’t arrived four more mornings of this typical cyclical routine of drudgery it feels so lonely as they play soft rock saxophones echoing in the domed […]

hotel breakfast III

the pina colada songs plays as the table of russians toast an entire loaf of bread for the two of them a stooped old man in a long black robe surveys the room searching for something the sadness in his eyes tells me he will not find amidst the bacon and sausage laden plates while […]

a painting of lilies

there is a painting of lilies on the wall behind the toilet been on the road for a week spending the weekend in the hotel in the northern suburbs of atlanta for work training shuttle to class shuttle to the hotel shuttle to the store shuttle to the airport limo to the apartment shuffle to […]

second night at homewood

there is something about a freezing hotel room that kicks the brain into a strange percolation of thoughts impossible to have at home these quasars start to blossom behind the delicate mask of trying to fit into being a human being whole being far from where you wish you were so you spiral as the […]