new year, new shit

sorting through life's turds

The room was barely functioning.

Sure, I could walk through it.

There was still a spot on the step for me to sit and whittle.

Beside that though?

My 'workroom’ had become a dumping ground of endings.

Endings for me are messy.

Sure, I get shit done.

And?

The shit that comes from the shit, or that’s needed in the doing of the shit?

It never gets put away.

It’s like I’m the kind of dude who eats healthy, takes care of himself, cleans the kitchen, makes a movement happen daily then never flushes the damn toilet.

My workroom was such a toilet.

Cleaners and wax from selling the car mingled and mixed with masonry tools from the flood repair. Fasteners from shed transformation were slopped on top of bike parts.

All were glazed with a piss of tools, balanced and sliding down every slimy stinking surface.

This wasn’t a toilet.

This was a sewage treatment plant - on which had lay dormant for months? Years? Who knew? I think it was in order back in 2020. Something big happened then and I cleaned. Shit has…