i like to tell stories

LM was a singer, she was the longest relationship i ever had and it’s been over years. on our second or third date, i think the third, it was simply to help her get her car washed. we ended up at juniors in brooklyn. she bought me a glass. to this day it is only one of maybe 3 that i own. i never do dishes, i HATE it, so after far too long (months), i finally cleaned my sink today.

while listening to a song of hers that for some reason my machine is hammering me with lately in the shuffle, i dropped the pyrex i was washing and it smashed the juniors.

so much for another trophy of life of mine. i never intended to ever actually use the damn juniors glass, it should of been on a mantel somewhere and cherished, i just don’t have a mantel or suitable spot in this hole that is my home, or any drinking glasses. dammit.

i am trying hard to not read too much symbolism into this small event, yet it does seem timely as someone just gave me a set of 5-6 glasses, LM hasn’t answered a call or email in months and seems to have forgotten who i was all together about the same time it hit me how long ago and how far away she is in every sense when i wish she wasn’t…

this is why i shouldn’t be doing dishes, total and complete calamity with unforeseen and catastrophic consequences of symbolism. i fucking HATE doing dishes.

listen to some puss pie and dance to it, i do, but only when no one is looking.