The Snow on the Television

Another night of putting the snow on the television. I watch it fall and drift the same way as my indecisions. I never let a woman too close to me; ignoring her texts because I'm busy. Busy with thinking about what's next, who's big, and how's that? Not me, not yet, I'm not ready for the fame and fortune. For once, once in a great while, the words come to me like butter melting hot across my frying pans. I'm not hungry, just lonely for the approval of something greater than myself. Waiting for someone to tell me I mean something, waiting for them to tell me I'm important. When the coals are red hot do I rarely strike, but maybe this time I'll create a habit that doesn't destroy me in the process. Oh, how I love the thrill of a risk, the risk of one more time, one more bet, and one more go. Go all in. Put it all on one idea. We can't go wrong! And then... Slowly... Slowly... Slowly... I find myself. Alone in my thoughts. Alone in a world with all the highways to happiness. If only I could reach through the screen and tell a super intelligent whale how to make me happy and rich. I sit in the water of my tub, drowning my hair in the faucet, and come back... To the snow on the television.