waste....

Distancing himself between the thought of him as he sees him and the actual him. The failed musician sits in the 20 ft. Box truck on the exshaust filled freeway of the 101 freeway. Watching the "marine layer" cast over downtown skyscrapers like a gotham storm... Occasionally slapping his legs to a song that he has heard a billion times on the radio but doesn't seem to annoy him as much as the rest. Some relief comes from waving to a familiar face 2 lanes over for a brief moment...as the beatles come on and put him right back into annoyance mode. recently proud of being a non smoker after 27 years of consitantly juicing black tar suicide into his lungs, he lights up a marlboro red to kill some time and feel the burn of defeat once again...Just get to figueroa and make the pick up. try not to think. The musk of a tailpipe brushes through the window as the sun ages his face rapidly. And he can't shut it off....there is no radio loud enough, there is no joke funny enough, there is no tour cool enough, there is no pussy tight enough...... there is no love.....there is no god.......he just can't shut it off