A Title. You must Be kidding.

It’s interesting you know. I have no emotion. It’s a strange kind of ordeal. Well I think it would be more appropriate to designate fiasco as the word of choice, in order to describe the description of emotional vacancy that is now all too apparent.

“Pardon me?” The man drinking on my side shook his cigarette. Ash falls. The air burns with the fiery rain.

I’m kind of intimidated. That’s right; I applied a 5 syllable word to my experience. It sucks hard that he heard what was going on inside. It seems that things have begun bubbling up to the surface. Fuck.

“Sir, your ice is melting.”

He was right. My glass on the counter was outfitted by the condensation only belonging to that of time. Time had unpleasantly and most indiscreetly gripped my liquor. Choking it, ransoming it for all of its worth.

-It’s watery.

-It’s lost its identity.

-Victimized by the default scenario of reality; by that of time, it lost itself.

-Cody