It was like trying to roll a cigarette with wet thumbs, seemingly possible but a guarantor soft ripping failure and unfilled hunger.
No. That’s not quite it.
It was more like missing your glasses for days. The whole affair became little more than squinting and bleary guesswork.
Of course, there was a brief triumph in finding spectacles beneath the bookcase. Happiness merely drowned in disappointment, because the damned things were scratched beyond use.
It’s like trying to fight in a world of uncaring marshmallows. No matter how well they were torn, beaten, or worn away, the grinning fools just kept on grinning. They sang their cheery little songs even as sticking clumps of massacre on some summer sidewalk.
Okay. That’s a little closer.
I mean, the whole situation was like a perfect example of superfluous action bereft of meaningful consequence.
I mean, fuck.
It was powerlessness without bonds, with a totality of free movement. It was all of this to no noticeable effect.
It was pissing in the wind only to have your urethra suddenly explode.
It was picking out the perfect fantasy football lineup, only to have all your players benched for cocaine dog fighting.
It was surreal consequence divorced from probability, and all likely causal events.
It was life I guess.
Yesterday was life-full as fuck.