they switched the lights on really fast, which okay, it just swallowed me whole, that light, i whimpered and squinted. they hate that. they said c'mon whats with the sad songs? and i was all bells and whistles, i said nothing, i said fuck off, with your questions. bring me to the ocean. i want to hear everyone talking from the ocean. they were all like why don't you quit writing about dreams? i said make me. i miss you in a way that only dreams allow so you will have to grin and bear it or find another room, you lucky bastards, the hallways are vast, so go find another room. whatever you do don't just sit there. make me a drink, a stiff one, make yourself useful. did you think you could be the ocean? maybe talk its language? don't answer that. just put four ice cubes in my drink, no straw.
you think the ocean stops calling? just like that?
sit down and i'll tell you a story.
i said a stiff one, kid, you know what that means?
it means i feel a juicy, mood-ring warmth from the first ice-chilled sip.