The Interview

I have come to regret everything as soon as I’ve said it, as if I were some drunk waggishly exercising his tongue (not unfamiliar), except it isn’t some unguarded revelation that I find myself regretting but the casual and innocuous comments of everyday life. It’s as if my sobriety were distasteful and instead I should look for solace in the gurgling of some clear spirit. I only have to tilt my head back along with a hefty bottle to recollect my real life, to return to a state of excitement, and to jumper-cable myself into an aspect other than irritated habituement.

Yes, I regret these words as I regret any and all words.

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