There's a fat cockroach squatting in the back of my abandoned storefront. It just keeps skittering around, with it's soft shell and one-track mind. I've shown an enormous amount of magnanimousness in not squashing the ever-loving-fuck out of it. It's just an insect. A bottomfeeder come surface-side. Eating garbage and mistaking sloppiness with efficiency. It should't even be on my radar, except for the sheer size and passive-aggressive audacity of it. I shouldn't worry-- it'll kill itself soon enough.

11:16 a.m. - 2017-01-23