emergency explosions.

pain is constant.

knees.

ankles.

feet.

back.

old age?

shitty job?

shitty shoes?

overweight?

too much booze?

not enough veggies?

not enough exercise because of the shitty job?

i woke up at 6am yesterday.

very tired.

tired of the grind.

tired of the nothingness.

tired of the mundane.

drank a coffee.

rushed out the door and arrived at work. jumped in a truck and arrived at our first house but not before a second coffee and a breakfast sandwich from mickie dees. shitty food but tasty when you’re tired, depressed, and lost.

ate my food.

drank my coffee.

arrived at our first house of the day.

beautiful country home with lots of privacy and a beautiful property. the sun was beaming down and it was crisp but beautiful.

we pulled out our lawn mowers and started to mow the grass. i looked to the right of me and almost collapsed. two big horses standing and conversing. wild horses. after my initial shock i nervously walked over to them and soon realized that they were fake plastic horses.

FUCK.

SHIT.

OH NO.

ALL OF A SUDDEN MY STOMACH WAS RUMBLING AND I NEEDED TO EXPLODE.

a bottle of wine.

two coffees.

and a mickie dees sandwich will do it every time.

who needs ex-lax when our society is filled with shitty take-out restaurants that will ALWAYS do the trick.

i grabbed paper towels from the glove box of the truck and ran into the forest. i thought i may see a deer, a coyote, a bear, a fox, or a rabbit. instead i saw a few lady bugs and felt a few mosquitoes. i whipped off my shorts then whipped off my underwear. i took one big breath and pushed everything out in one big explosion and one big push. why can’t my shits at home be this easy??? i wiped my ass. put my underwear and shorts back on and then picked up the shitty paper towels. i was going to bring them back to the truck but my work partner would have snapped out (he’s testy) so i littered and left the shitty paper towels along with the shit back in the woods. i left the forest and returned to beauty. a hundred pounds lighter and a sense that i really am a man.

I AM A MAN.

then i started mowing grass and picking up leaves.

i am 57 years old.

sad.

depressing.

tired.

tomorrow is always tomorrow and yesterday is always yesterday.

are there still wars going on?

fight the power.