Can a man not contemplate in quiet solitude?
Your inability to do so doesn’t bring me that much pain or sorrow, I regret to tell you.
No.
I sit in a box office and look good.
Also I listen to everyone else working front-of-house warble on about how the next show’ll be their big break into a stage role. Which was probably a feasible ambition before I showed up.
The royal variation seems to be to blush, and then speak my name in a most scolding tone.
Though I don’t need to word my sentences as queries to provoke that response, so I suppose the answer to your question is no, not that I can recall.
I use my imagination, anonymous.
It’s the greatest nation of them all!
I am gainfully employed as of two days ago. So I suppose up until two days ago, I was planning on living like a beatnik indefinitely.
And wait for, what, the sweet embrace of death? Fuck that.
No.
Yes.
Keyword: ‘him’. Not ‘the anonymous masses on my ill-advised ask blog.’
