this is still the book btw, not my life. although a lot of times the line is blurry.
The alarm beeped at me. I casually rolled over and looked at it. 8:00 on the digital face and it looked like it was shaking at me. The numbers were doing a dance, wavering to and fro. Telling me to wake up. I lay there and contemplated going to my shitty job. I closed my eyes and told myself, twenty more minutes. In that twenty minutes I would reach into my underwear and relieve the sexual tension that had been built up for the past week to my secret fantasy. It wasn’t unlike any other morning I had had since I moved back in with my mother. The masturbation was a little odd, but other then that I brushed my teeth, did a bump, and went down for coffee. I wasn’t staying long anyway. Just a couple of months before I could move. Then I would get out of the town that had raised me. A town that was stifling and boring and didn’t have a real bar.
I guess it’s like a lot of suburbs. About three or four chain restaurants that have bars, a couple of convenience stores. A diner. Basically a crossroads with nothing in it. At the time I worked in retail. It paid shit, but for some reason I didn’t think I could do better. I didn’t think much of anything since I had arrived back. Oh yeah. I totally lived in a city. And it was totally cool. Which is what I tell all of the old friends that I run into, because they haven’t left and never will. They will be trapped here and that’s how they like it. If they wanted to leave they could. It never happens that way though. Dollar bowling on Mondays and half price drinks at the name-a-chain restaurant on every Thursday. Why not? Why not live in your parents’ basement and fuck when no one is awake? They can’t come up with good enough reasons to leave, but I can’t come up with good enough reasons to stay.
