Thursday, February 19, 2009


In six hours, Life happened.

It was sudden, shocking. Startling.

Quickly. Eyes open, jaw drops.

It’s simple really: I signed a new lease. Came home; ran back out.

The toilet flooded.

I’m moving.

Holy fucking shit.

Much as I’ve contemplated it, conjured or imagined, never did I ever expect to truly be moving. Unless of course, something foreign came up—but that’s neither here nor there.

I’m moving. Two floors down…and I’m freaking out.

As I stood from the hallway just outside the soggy bathroom, reality flashed before my eyes. Edge hit me.

The apartment is my personification, an utter depiction of existence. And I have to move it all?

[Holy shit.

The toilet flooded.



Don’t forget to drop of the dewy towels at the laundry mat.

You're signed to move. ]