Write zombie, write!

 

Last night I slept on a couch in a dark room filled with trash and cigarette smoke. The garbage clutters the table in the middle. All night the TV is on, but set to one of those silent black channels that make it seem shut off. The tile floor is cold, the wind is cold. The temperature dropped last night. I was wrapped up in blankets I found scattered throughout the house, but the cold bites into my back from behind. I need my home, I need my clean room and my warm bed. I need to write about what I want to write about, but instead I invoke the powers of the Language Zombie to do my bidding. There is no food in my stomach, no food in the house, but there is also no time to eat, only time to blog. Great idea in theory, but this whole environment is beginning to look a lot like a chilling winter, and my destination for tomorrow is farther north. God damn, I need a vacation.