Rien (that's French for nothing)

The circus may never return to Wilmington. I know it probably will, but I get myself going in the morning by reassuring myself that there is a possiblility that it will not. I met a clown named Jacob last weekend and ironically enough, I killed him. I don't know why I am posting today, but maybe one of you does. Enlighten me, fools!

It has not rained all day, yet I carried an umbrella with me. This weekend, when God let His bathtub overflow and I had a cast on my hand, I did not even touch my umbrella. I hate that word. Umbrella. Do not say it to me again. Somebody bring something interesting to Wilmington.

My power was out when I woke up this morning so I ended up showering in the dark. Because of this, I can never be sure what color the water was coming out of the shower head. Or if there was anybody in there with me. All I know is that I could not see the toothpaste and I put way too much on the brush and since it was dark I forgaot that I was not supposed to swallow it and now my inside parts will not stop burning. In some cities it is illegal to not have lights in the stairwell. I now understand why, and so do Muhammad (my dog), and my recently
un-broken-ed hand. It's a word because I say it is. I can do nothing. Tomorrow, you can look forward to a poem involving Paris, phalliphobia, the color white, and an entertainment center.

How's that make you feel? I must ask.