A TV named Desire

I went outside tonight and remembered how much i love the night. I used to love. I used to lie back on my dog's house and just stare up at the sky. So that's what I did. But I couldn't stop the feeling of a pull. Back to the house I should go. To do something. Finish watching my tv show. Get online and write about looking at the sky...

Since when did I become so dependent on the idiot box? I come home and feel the need to stare vacantly at my loyal "friend" characters to see what's going on in their half an hour episodal lives. Compelled. Addiction. Habit? I have no self control. I spoil my self. My own vegetating desires are met the moment I walk in the door. I spend all day thinking about the couch. And the TV. Waiting at home for me. It's my little love triangle. Me the couch and the tv. And none of us is jealous of the other. When will it stop? Will I want it to stop? I'll probably give up major life opportunities for my silly cheap desires.

Oh WOA is ME!

old junk ...new junk