misery tourism

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Tara always used to take the piss out of me for being “posh”.

A young man was taken away this evening in a stretcher, by ambulance.

The masturbators prep their organs; the podcast has yet to play.

Jimmy Ward shadowboxed in his bedroom as the morning light seeped through the blinds creating a dense silhouette.

The above video is an archive of the fifth edition of the Misery Loves Company social reading series.

The morning meant hangover and strong coffee, juices delivered automatically from the smoothie bar Elena preferred.

I’m grinding the teeth of my heart tonight
behind a Walmart

Nobody fucks in the old chapel anymore.

Despondency is the perfect trap for the human soul.

The fifteen acres of artificial nature is covered by a geodesic dome.