Things could be different, but they’re not.

Written by

Of Montreal – The Past Is A Grotesque Animal

Now that I live on my own, I stopped making my bed. Why bother? I’m just going to mess it up later that night anyways.

I dropped my toothbrush down the garbage disposal. The crunch snap made me cringe. But every day just serves to yellow the teeth I was trying to whiten. Why fight God?

All the quarters I save from skipping laundry go to parking meters. They fit so perfectly in the slot, and the reassuring numbers flash that me and my car are safe, at least for now.

The last thing I ate was some yellow curry from that Thai place a week ago. Sure, I feel weak, but eventually we all lose power, lose strength. Our bones snap easier, our flesh can’t heal itself anymore.

Staying alive is so much work. It takes a lifetime of effort.

[Buy Hissing Fauna, Are You The Destroyer? for a pretty miserly $7.]

3 Responses to “Things could be different, but they’re not.”

  1. Lily says:

    Here, here.

  2. Jessica says:

    D:D:D: ……I love Of Montreal… Also. Brilliant writing. Just that right amount of uncomfortable and undeniable truth that makes me wonder if you’re just writing a diary entry. I never can tell…

  3. mordred says:

    Yes I give up without dying as well

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