Write a Spontaneous Poem

[freshnesschronic]

Arbitrary

The humidifier runs constantly like a Kenyan in Boston. I scratch my bare stomache as I gaze blankly into my LCD screen, looking for it but I cannot find it. It is not on my screen but in my head; but I still search for it on the screen. How futile it is.

Times strolls by as if Jack the Ripper was casually strolling past Big Ben and I know I shouldn't be up this late. Just like last night, and the night before that, and the whole goddamn summer. I glance at the unmade bed and pause to ponder if I made it up for the whole two months I've been back living with my parents. I do not know.

Sometimes I wonder if I could have enjoyed grade school more than I did. Because college is the best thing that ever happened to me. I anxiously await the day that I move into my house with my other four friends in Urbana. That die sun will shine down upon the rooftops as I unload my life for nine months.

But, I wonder. Will I be doing the same thing that I am doing at home? Staying up late for no reason at all? That question makes me smile. Why would I ask myself something I already know.