the infinite and the armoire

it's been awhile and i really don't know what to write about...i could write about how i cleaned out my parent's attic this weekend, uncovering numerous volumes of journal entries, math tests, and notations from sixth grade...and how looking at them made me wonder who that fucker that lived that life was, and why was he infinitely different than the immoral loser that has replaced him...i could write about my brother's ratt and roll t-shirt, or how i helped him lift a huge armoire today (the result of which will be for him a place to put his clothes and for me a bad back)...i could write about how my dislike of people is reaching an all time high, and the savagery of our species is destroying an otherwise symbiotic world...but i won't write about any of those things...because at this point i am tired...yeah tired...sinking slowly in the sand, waiting out the summer heat like an over-furred dog...panting while wondering..."why do i have thick fur in the summer...what cruel fate has left me on this ever be-scorched planet with a fur coat and no sweat glands"...but i know you don't care, one of my few and ever dwindling readership, too apathetic or afraid to leave comments...i see you out there through the infinite innerspace, the monitor's eye...sweating through your underwear, searching for salvation, or a cold beer and a good friend...well i am here for you as long as you don't come looking...as long as you don't stalk...i have had a stalker once or twice(if you would like to hear those stories all you have to do is ask) and i do not need to revisit that...but here at the church of al, beyond the ornate alters of the masses, and the stained glass of the saints...i am here for you, after all, where else would i be...