A man watches the television, seeing the world delivered to his bedroom. Time soon comes to leave the world of corporate creation, only to wander outside and enter the city in which he lives. A man of the city would not normally draw his attention to the two worlds of his existence, mimicking one another and blending into an off-sort of reality. He wakes up to his usual tasks of spamming myspace for underage scene girls and checking his friend requests. A poor lost soul he is in a world of misconceptions and alterations upon the nature of his existence. He walks out the door grabbing his favorite hat to begin yesterday today.
The first thing he sees every morning is the Knoxville skyline. He stumbles as he takes the first three steps of cobblestone sidewalk. "Today could be a day of exception, a day of special interest," he thinks to himself to motivate the walk of his organized yet overused path. The sun still lays low in the east, a brilliant nip at his nose and ears. The nip came to his mind in perfect timing for him to pull his hood over his head avoiding the attention of the beautiful girls that live across the street.
The walk continued, boring as ever, the only excitement was the nicotine running through his blood as he stomped down the hill. He misses her. He always misses her. The excitement, the irregularity of conjugation. He will miss her for the remainder of the block where he first met her.
Again, forgetting the goal of his voyage, he retaliates by pounding his skull with harsh thoughts and violent whims. His mind fractures and falls apart, oozing with pustulate memories. As his cerebellum bleeds he walks on. The man has already had his glorious day, for today he has nothing to do except rest.
