Shit to say

My schedule here in Wilmington is pretty straightforward. It's roughly twice as complex as my schedule in Rochester. There, I woke up, went to Starbucks, went home. Here, aside from the fact that I'm always home, I wake up, go to Starbucks, leave and go to Barnes & Noble, then go... well, to the parking lot. Spending so much time in Barnes & Noble, I've come to recognize a sort of feeling-thought. A feeling, that is, based on a sub-conscious thought. The feeling is something like being overwhelmed, and it has an undercurrent of indignant irritation. I've decided that the driving thought goes something like this:

People got shit to say, yo.

Between the lines living between the covers of all these many thousands of books is one demand:

Listen to me, bitches. I know things.

And there are so fucking many of them. I mean, seriously. People got shit to say!!

I got shit to say, too. I'd better get to sayin' it.