That's What They Say

Sometimes, when I don’t want to leave the house, I let my dog out the back unattended. Last night, she pooped in the walk way, off to one side. Over the next six weeks, I watched her feces decompose, running through every stage to total re-immersion into the earth.

Peanut says I need to get out more. She doesn’t say it like that, though, because it would be too cliché.

My analyst thinks I need to settle down and relax, concentrate on my psyche. At least, I think that’s what he thinks.

My best nonfriend thinks I should run away, like her. It does change things, always looking for the unknown, rather than looking at it.

I’m not so dissatisfied as everyone says I am, but they’re quite convincing.

I’ve got all the classic signs of an alcoholic, and it runs in my family. As much as a bad habit turned addiction can run in a family. We all have addictive personalities, I guess they would say. But they’re just making excuses, because everyone wants to be addicted to something.

I like to work out, do physically hard things, because I like to feel the difference between my mind and my body.

I drink the most when I drink by myself, and that’s when I think about death.

I was lying just then, but I thought it’d make me more intense; I thought you’d take me more seriously.

I actually think about death when I’m at parties full of people.

The homeless man outside my office holds a sign that says, “Homlee, Hungry,” and I actually envy him his honesty.

Peanut says I need a change. She says it’s time to cheer up, and be happy. But I didn’t know I wasn’t happy.

But perception is fleeting, and so are these thoughts.