Potentially fatal gas poisoning.

I start my day off watching the news. Nothing but bad news. Bastards who committed drunken hit-and-runs on innocent bystanders, houses burning down, flooding somewhere out in the midwest, school shooting and parents placing the blame on modern pop culture.

There's never anything good. I wake up to this shit. The feeling of morning stings like a son-of-a-bitch. Light up a cigarette. Stale. That's the price you pay for buying them in bulk, unlike any other normal fucking American citizen. I swallow the taste down with strong, black as mud coffee.

Jump in the shower, get out. Re-learn how to tie a goddamn tie every single morning because it's something I've never been good at. I throw on a dingy pair of jeans, leave my shirt unbuttoned at the top and untucked an throw on a jacket. Basically, I look like a scumbag, but a classy scumbag at that. Slipping my feet into my shoes I prepare to take on the world. But the world only seems to be coming at me in slow motion.

It's sad when you sit in a booth at a coffee shop with your friends and you can't stand a fucking word that comes out of their mouths. You want to spit in their faces, but without them who are you? Just some egotistical fuck with a clean conscious wearing a fucking tie and a seventy-five dollar jacket. Besides, it's unhealthy not to socialize.

They chew with their mouths open and spit their food out when they talk. Disgusting excuses for human beings. But you deal with it. Redeeming qualities are a saving throw in this case. You're tapping your foot to that infectious song that you heard earlier but hate so much. You can't get it out of your head. You just sit there and tolerate the nonsense as long as you can, build some charisma. Until finally... you stand up and excuse yourself from the table. To take a piss? You use that as an excuse to escape. To the company of other friends, or into the arms of a lover.

Conversations with strangers. I've found them more entertaining than sticking to the norm. Paying their tab to get a hint of advice as to what direction you should go in life. You meet them in these places: coffee shops, sitting alone and reading the paper. Or at least pretending to so that they can blend in with the scenery, on the public transportation, where they paid twice as much to get to where they want to go either because it fits in with their routine or because they've fallen in love with strangers such as yourself.

I stop at the store to pick up another pack of cigarettes despite having and entire field of tobacco products at home in my freezer. I light the first one, take the smoke in deep and exhale. Ah... the taste of fresh tobacco. One of the said strangers approaches you, asks for a light. You ask them the time and they look at a watch that was probably stolen or won in a game of cards. They'll probably pawn it off so that they can buy their booze. Mental addiction... what a bitch.

There is no point to this story. I never said there would ever be one. I'm just bullshitting with you. Rather than talking about something as fucking trivial as the weather, or about how many boozed up whores you stick your dick into the night before. I'd rather talk about this. Nothing that matters. Just a point of view. If you don't like it, if you don't like me, if you don't like yourself, if you don't like the world I suggest you go fuck yourself and do something substantial with your time. Because we're all dying or already dead. We're ticking time bombs just ready to either explode or dud out. We're all cars that are traveling along freeways like veins and arteries of this country. We're destined to break down sooner or later. No God is ever going to be able to fix that.

Call it a design flaw. I call it a reason to hate my God.