Emptiness x Despair = Turbulance - Discipline
I made a hobby of disappointment. And a lifestyle of disappearance. Or invisibility.
Invisibility = Disappearance - Going Away
I could spend the rest of my silence working out psycho-mathematic equations, but it seems like a big waste of perfectly hard fluorscent light. Stomach pain is a fine entertainment on a Saturday evening when we are fresh from the sun's burial. We could ride the train for hours and never find a suitable exit station.
Look at what these sidewalks have done to me! I can't unclog the mirror and watch my reflection go down.
I now wear oven mitts when I open my notebook. I don't want to burn my fingers in static. I assure you that static feels as hot as it sounds.
And tonight all these places in the carpet or behind the wall are quiet places to hide.