THE DAILY ASSIGNATION: Day 13 "In Traction"

Suspension. Suspended. Bookstores are open graves. Magic seeps out there, as if the words come to unravel, yet everything opens up -- welcome arms -- the city, the town -- Boat. -- Suspended. -- There is no read to understand. -- Suspended. -- Like welcome arms -- crushing, crushing all around, -- this place has no place, this place is far from every place, this place this. -- The whole town is a tourist trap. The streets are line with giant attractions, eye-grabbers, unnecessary bombast. -- Metal rods hold up a broken girl, shattered by her choices, in the story. -- There's mini golf that looks like an entire theme park shoved between a giant replica of the front half of the Titanic and a multi-storied go-cart track. The rocks and dying/leafless tress have been replaced with urban decay and buildings meant to suck cash from wondering strangers like mountain mosquitoes. -- the books are old, very old, most of them paper backs or hard covers that have lost most of the vibrancy from their covers from too much sun or too much time or too much time in the sun. -- This is the first real story told in 3rd person in the book, which is interesting I guess, I really dont fucking care. Liquor has dulled anything that could assemble in my jangling mind, clinking and clanking around my gray matter has become ice in a glass waiting whorishly for cheap ass whisky and knock-off 7-Up. -- Could fine nothing, must return, I will return, to get something, have to get something, -- Suspension. -- Another story about sadness, in a way, this is very direct in this one with one of the characters actually being depressed and this being stated in essence but the other characters, by other characters directly, by other characters. So there's that, so. -- something from this place where the books are wedged in the shelves side was and they reach up to the ceiling yet still there are piles on tables and stacks one the ground, under your feet, and then there'll be spaces where there's practically nothing on the shelves, as if they place needed breathing room and there're only a few books on the maybe two out of all of the ceiling high pile of rows. Have to come back, have to get something -- Suspension. Something. Welcome arms. Something. -- Have to come back have to come back have to come back have to... --