Nights of snow are eerily bright

I’m sitting around during this series of snow-days watching a NOVA documentary where those being interviewed keep referring to a set of fossils as the “hobbit” off-shoot of the human species and it brings to mind questions, like why do they keep doing that when they know Lord of the Rings is more entertaining than NOVA and I’d much rather watch or read that, and why does this person not realize the message I’m trying to send anytime I talk to them, and if they even have a semblance of understanding of the passion that I feel or how enamored I am or how clammy my hands get when I think about just the most miniscule details of their existence, baited breath and all, and how it’s exhausting and demanding to maintain this school-girl phenomenon with zero response and zero feedback and zero reasons to keep plunging forward.

Confused about why I’m most often the clean-up crew after an oil-spill that leaves each affected animal infatuated with their captor. Kind of leaning towards signing up with Frost Bank at the moment because their commercials say they provide each client with the same amount of respect and dignity and I’m not used to that and I think it might be a pleasant experience even if it’s from a bank, I’m sorry Chase bank, but text messages about my balance or lack thereof is not enough sometimes.

Done writing this for no one right now, kind of an effortless effort to remind myself that sometimes effort and ambition are tantamount to a heap of horse-vomit, if they do, because I think it’s agreeable that of all animals, a horse vomiting would be the most uncomfortable to watch.