A beast

I just got back from the eye care clinic with my Grandma. The kind of place where everything had money thrown at it in excess. Everything shines like the murderous glint I see in the mirror every morning. I felt like I had crawled out of underneath a crusted bland universe into a place more sensual then the moist. Men with a white coat on each arm. A posture that rivals the stake upon which many a heretic was burned. Everything felt foreign. Kind of like a non-visual textured dream. But I am relieved by the familiarity of home. Maybe because my hung over brain was not prepared to break the ordinary. Watching facts about how to prevent eye disease on there plasma wide screens was a way to start my day that I had never experienced before. All flashed to me underneath an appropriate PG movie. Above an appropriate Christmas tree. With an obligatory "X" before "mas". A none offensive environment that in a lot of ways reminds me of everywhere I go to meet the public world. Part of my brain wants to scream out "fuck" just to break the hushed polite environment. Making them scitter with there tongues in disapprovement. But I am too conditioned to do so. I care to much what people think. Or maybe I am too lazy to want to face the hassle. So in the end I was just another face. One that will not be rememberd. I am not remembered because I chose not to be. I chose to be the wall paper on the wall. Something you see and forget. Something that does not impact you. The story of my life. The story of yours.