i've been trying to understand exactly what it is you do and i find i am unable.

the end of their lives was promptly followed by the relief of not living. she walked around the restaurant looking for empty glasses so that she could wash them out and put them in a tub of recently washed glasses. all the while she looked unhappy. she was the kind of unhappy looking girl, where it was hard to tell if she was just a naturally unhappy looking person, was miserable with life, or just dissatisfied with the position she served as a mobile glass cleaner in a bar/restaurant. the apartment is in a basement. the windows face up towards the world above. everything behind them exists below the world. they live beneath the world. if life is not exciting then we are doing something wrong. we are doing something wrong. everything we love is something we no longer have. this writing is for no other reason than onanistic filling of space. we are creators.