squint.

i.
hanging pictures up in specific spots, where you think they look their very best on the wall-type prominence. for when strangers enter your space for the first time a strange deviance crosses your face when they don't take notice to the prominence of your symbols you etch onto every wall and echo with your voice full of passion the squeal of electric energy, your back pushed against the corner of an empty room, teeming. the walls bending inwards as they rise. a lone light fixture stuck to the ceiling. the creaks of a house, the usual air flowing through the vents - a breathing specimen in this house. the specimen an indefinite longing. unequal air pressure forcing a wind into the house through a crack in the window, scattered papers rustling back and forth violently. the sound paper makes, shredding under subtle pressure.

ii.
embarrassed, hiding the wine glass behind the television set when you were too drunk to wash it and put it back in the cupboard. stumbling to bed drunk, reciepts and other notes of personal debt carelessly stacked in a pile with sketches and unfinished pieces of writing, held in place by a bag of potato chips turned into a paper weight. for weeks, forgetting what's been placed where, and pulling out more papers that will get lost in a mess. no sense of organization or moral responsibility. no more debt, no more goddamn debt, get your bank affairs in order, get a day job, do this, do that. get a job, keep working on all your miserable affairs in a logical order. don't say anything critical to disrupt peoples' world as they rotate on their axis slowly. you, yourself, spin around the room and watch the lies fall off yourself like wet rags or dead skin.

iii.
your coworker says look at that snake in the cockpit, pointing out some blank-faced man you didn't know was originally there. his hand on her leg - the only bit of anatomy you'd see of him until years later, when you would finally meet him, drunk off your ass and him too. his handshake firm and overbearing, his hands much bigger than yours. "bigger everything," she once confessed. cocking your head, checking to make sure everything is level.