welcome to a room of my own

6\07

sorry for the mess but every time i try and clean it it just feels like i'm losing part of myself i like the pile of clothes they are mine and usually i can find a shirt when i want to sure i hang up the ones with collars but who even wears those anyway so this is it heres my messy room theres my bed flush against the corner like doing so would give me enough floorspace to do anything but throw clothes on top of i start cleaning it but nobody really comes in here anyway it's kinda weird to see you standing there sorry i don't have any chairs just a bed it used to be a futon i used to be alot of things now i'm just a man in a hotel room a perpetual tourist on the long island beating paths out onto the road with my silly black pickup truck i bought it because they are cheap and functional where am i where does this car take me where do these feet take me but back to this messy room where i drool out words onto myspace like a man in a cartoon on a hump of an island with one tree on it i am on that island throwing bottles into the sea not thinking about shipping lanes or trade winds or anything just thinking about everything i throw into the sea into the river before i go back to my room my pile of coconuts and sand it's not so bad once you get used to it but you could say that about alot of things and one day i'm going to say that about everything christ let this single tree be an antenna straight to the ears of god this is me your humble servant asking for forgiveness i am daniel in a den with my waning positivity crouching like lions but without daniel's grace and i believe they may pounce at any minute i scrawl this hastily and cast it into the water
"spare me lord my work is not done."