Scotch? I will take two of those.

Yut.

This dream where I shot myself seems unprovoked.  Or where I wander the halls, in constant search.
It's a paradox of sorts.  Creating life and the ripple thereafter.  Can't leave now, buddy boy.  Even if you want to, now you're stuck.  And then you wonder, "is this hell?"  Surely, it can't be.  I've created something that in my eyes, epitomizes beauty.  How can you shade that with hell?  Do not color outside the lines.  I will have that engraved on my tombstone.  With a coloring book at the foot of my grave.  There. 

It's like I was a page from that book in a world with no crayons.  I'm destined to be blank.  A blank face.  A dirty slate.  Till something wrong comes along and wipes it clean.  And do you ever feel grown up?  Or are we just big kids playing pretend.  I sit at home and look at the screen.  I see the madness everywhere.  Bees in a hive.  And this hive spins round and round and it's hot and it's cold and we get agitated.  Sometimes, we buzz so loud we can't sleep.  We take it all for granted.  The hive crumbles a little more each day, but we'll be gone before that, so f**k it.  We sleep and we drink and we f**k.  We f**k each other and ourselves.  We f**k people who haven't even been born.  We end last names. 

Do not highlight our lowest common denominator.  She had told me of a filthy past.  "The past is the past." she said.  No.  No it is not.  It dictates the future.  It sharpens the pencil in time's hand.  I can't get over it and then we went and created the beauty.  And now I'm stuck.  I can't leave, baby.  You win by default.  Is this hell?  Surely, it can't be.  Yet I walk this empty street down the middle of my wretched dreams.  I relive my life, in lucidity.  I watch as it floats by my eyes.  Like one big flat line.

A man once told me, "Time is a flat circle."  The universe was once a little black ball.  It grew and expanded and snapped like a rubber band.  It will expand and contract and repeat that until the end of forever.  We will relive every moment again and again.  So, I hope you fancy your flight attendant.  And I hope you brought a few of your favorite magazines.  Scotch?  I will take two of those.