Quantum leap

It only is what I want it to be. It's a new world and a different novel to read. Different than the one I was born into. Different than the one I've been writing for you. Each word created a moment and each moment created the aggravation and devastation - I'll live another life; the one I've given myself is past it's prime a culmination full of faux glamour and facades of beauty painted over grime.

What was that?

I do not like my president past president mother's president father's president. You're not my president. To whom does this live belong? I'm sitting on my back porch watching the grass grow and you still haven't answered me. If you don't like it, why don't you leave? I sort of figured you would do me the honour of getting the fuck out.

I keep looking at the countdown, thinking it should be tomorrow, tonight, right now - Let's go. I'm ready. Let's strap on our dancing shoes and skip over different dimensions and timelines and find that house again where we used to lay in bed together smoking post coital cigarettes with an ashtray between us and warm flat beers scattered on my floor. Let's find that moment again in which I thought, "Hey, I'm actually digging this, right now, this life, right now, this company, right here."

Let me be forward now, obtuse and brash; Darling, you do not exist and never have. That life was never lived, that moment never came to pass. I'm a quantum mechanic but I can't get my ship to fly. my ship, my brain, my thoughts all together melded into one(with a bit of rye) boiling pot that is boiling over and foaming at the eyes. Synapses and relapses, addictions and afflictions, junkies and flunkies - I'm tired now. I don't want this life anymore. I don't want to be here and see them and you and my president(not my president) my father(not my dad) fuck it all over up up and away.