We Have Been Sent To Destroy You

It's late. I'm tired. I'm working on a piece for a magazine. It should have been turned in by now. But that's kinda my M.O. this week--falling behind. My eyes feel like they are peppered with papercuts, sizzling like baking soda dropped into a paper mache science project volcano. And, it seems, that "scrunching" thing has momentarily returned--the twitch-like reaction my face adopts when exhaustion sets in: one eyelid squeezed shut, the other open, naked eye scanning the computer screen, trying to make sense of what I've written.

Yes, they appear to be words, placed in a somewhat logical order. But let's see what happens if we backspace here, cut and paste there, and connect this fella to that fella. Heaven's to Betsy! That's not a sentence. Let's rethink this. What if I go back and start using that other thing I wrote, earlier in the night? Oh yea, this is it! I've got this beat, the writer's block that is. I always knew I could... oh, wait, nevermind. This reads like a kindergarten student with no fingers and one eye wrote it. Let's scrap the whole thing... that's what we'll do. I'll drink some more caffeine... maybe score some speed, snort some No-Doze, that'll kickstart my tired, uninspired ass.

Eyelids are heavy. Plane roars overhead. Cats are fighting, err, maybe playing. T.V. mumbles in the background... something about cooking I think, can't quite tell. Harddrive is honking, gurgling, sounding as though it may crack and explode. Damn dial-up. So slow. Like me. Wearing down. Need an upgrade.

An aisle seat would be nice. Wow, roomy. I can stretch my legs. Quiet. Ears popped. Un-popped. Popped again, just the left this time. Damn. Oh, here she comes... with that goofy metal cart. It seems like such a... wait, I'm up. Yes, a Sprite sounds perfect. Pretzels? Certainly. Oh, you have extra? Why thank you.

Wait... don't know where that came from. Sorry. Things arent so copasetic. Winding down here at the keyboard. Looking for a way out... "The Exit" as it were. Well of course, there it is. Will you please excuse me?