It’s a hot one today in New York.
I’ve been drinking coffee, and now it’s almost like I can feel the caffeine moving in my blood.
I’m looking out the window sometimes here, watching people go by on the sidewalk. People with their shirts off, pushing bikes. White, white ladies with big straw hats and shopping bags.
The feeling in my body is supercharged. It’s caffeine and lust. I have the feeling that I could stand up, bring my fist down on this table and with one slam easily break it in half. I could throw a chair throw the window, and I could eat a salt shaker. I could crash into the mural, leaving a Pat-shaped hole in the wall, sirens screaming repetitiously and heads turning when I beat it.
This feeling, this is Spring, even though we’re in the dog days of Summer. I’m in the mood to learn new facts and spring them on some ignorant fucker. I can go to the museum and put my hands all over the paintings and then rape a statue because I’m so hard and strong.
Here’s the thing, my body odor is wafting up from my under my arms and there’s a slight sweat on my neck and shoulders. I’m covered in my smell, my blood is hot. I want to get the barista in a headlock and empty the cash register with the other hand, then deliver a few hard punches and laugh and laugh.
I don’t know if knowledge is power. I’m going to rip the clothes off a mannequin and fuck it from behind while making my purchases. If anybody says anything, I’m going to make it awkward.
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