Temporal white out Sitting in the vacant, atop a broken blind, and an abandoned chopping board, searching through my pockets. There's some tylenol in the right, but should be on the left for receiving, because receiving pain relief is what i need to move on. But on is off cause the only pill that can calm my nervous system is redemption. Redemption and an awaiting embrace. A warm body to rest against, and maybe a fuzzy kitten or two to battle out todler supremacy atop my lap. On second thought, hold the kittens, cause i wont have any misinterpreted allusions flying away with my meanings. Besides it was too much to ask for in the first place. I sit and stare at the dangling receptical, hanging out of its empty, gaping socket, dancing on strained and strange multi-hued, wire tendons. It in turn stares down. My eyes move to the swirling pattern of stucco, and my fingers to the task of breaking bits away to collect on the quarter-round amongst the carpet shavings and the spider; who scurries frantically into the eye socket of the aforementioned electric outlet. I look again to the outlet and away to the half-hung ceiling fan, similarly stranded in hazardous suspension by plastic coated conductive filaments, and a jolly red wire nut, struggling with its threaded grip. On and off. On and off. The light flickers with its swaying from an unfelt breeze, or perhaps a careless nudge lost to time and short term memory limitations. And i wonder why i'm not working.