bees

last night i dreamed i became a beehive. i moved in and became a beehive in your house, and you were horrified at the stench - the sweet cloying stench. we lived by the sea, but the salt water did nothing to combat it. i was about to burst, and you ran away crying. in the old wooden house by the sea. my cracked & swollen face gave birth to a thousand angry bees.

yesterday, while sitting out smoking a cigarette, i came upon the conclusion that what i thought has been a noble pursuit up until now has actually been not only detrimental to my life & the pursuit of happiness (as it were) but also, in the right light, is twisted, ugly, and ignoble.

everything online tells me that dreaming of bees is good luck. reversal of fortune. somehow i am disinclined to believe it.

someday soon, oh someday soon, i'm going to lose all of my teeth & all of my money & all of my friends & everything i own & i will be itinerant, peripateic around the edges of everything until the fire that's raging at the heart of everything finally makes its way to the outskirts & finds my corpse.

cheery today, aren't we.