If These Walls Could Talk

There is much more to the story and the quietness of his presence allows me to think that; the shyness is a mystery I am trying to figure out. Sitting there thinking about nothing that matters to him. Up all hours of the night, watching sitcom episodes he’s seen a million times already and still laughing like it was the first time, drives me nuts because the parts he’s laughing at aren’t really that funny. I don’t get it, I guess. The Office is just people commentating on cameras. Seinfeld was about nothing and it had me laughing. These new show/documentary type series that are usually scripted and come off as real kind of spoil reality. So why does he need to watch something so pointless over and over.

He is still a child leaving his socks and other clothing all over the place. The floor is where you can find his most prized possessions. A step above a slob because there is potential growing. Always complaining about needing an assistant to do the things he doesn’t want to do. Laundry and tasks in the city. Bringing back grunge with a sophistication this time around.

It is fun to watch him get creative, not always interesting to watch write. I would hire him to hold up the roof but he needs to step it up for himself.


Author: storiesfrommystomach

I am from a Village called South Komelik on the Tohono O'odham Nation. I enjoy poetry and philosophy. Hope you enjoy the blog! :)

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