Icarus's blog: "Augurs, Martyrs, and Agnostics"

Elevator music.

I don't remember being this drunk, but a good part was spent blurred

pressed to the floor.

Ever notice how cool, and smooth floor always is?

Except carpeting.

Except fire.

I think this might be my longest running affair.

Kind of a solid, consistent, chilly thing.

But its there.

More than I can say for you.

I wonder if tomorrow will have anything to do with bacon

and pressed coffee.

It can wait, but I can't.

I just have to find my pants.

My wallet.

My phone

my...

fuck it.

Too late to call?

By at least a year.

That's my problem.

I think.

I had it.

In one divine blip of clarity

but it was expelled.

Not unlike another acidic, sharp burp

there, but not for the moment.

Signaling the dawn?

Signaling the break.

The half.

The all.

The weak.

That was it.