relic.

and now my boredom is uninhibited and all i can do is wish to be somewhere i might be enetertained. and i wait untill my words run together on the page and my thoughts seem unclear, and in the meanwhile bad honky tonk blares and idle chatter, whispers and shouts all work together in the background. it seems somewhat ridiculous to be here. nothing to gain, nothing to be lost, closed case. the final chapter has been written, the mold has been cast and the clay's in the oven: burning.