just a bunch of stuff really.

freshly opened container of nuts. two kinds. the very good for you. and the very good. two bottles of olive oil. one must have spent some time outside. there is a layer of heavy olive snow inside. snowbottle. green sky and very slow world in general. there was mold on the sausage. it was easy to remove it with a single cut of the big knife. the grape juice did not last long. tiny bottle, painted a bit to make the content even better looking. salads eaten with little desert forks. not in the desert. in front of a television playing a recorded show about deserts. the ¢99 orange. makes my teeth hurt. where was the caffeine? why am i not sleeping yet? one of the boxes in this room contains a punch. i want to punch. something. pages. and myself. can't find the punch. found much more than i was looking for. just not the punch. will do the dishes tomorrow. first thing. it is raining. outside. it might be time to turn off the lights and to stare out the window past the large jade tree, towards the stars that are not, just planes heading for la guardia. crossing the slow green sky. snow on the ground. am i actually trapped in an olive oil bottle? and then maybe sleep will take me away to a place that is a good one. somehow. maybe the mold. will? dreams. the ones good for you. and the good ones. that does not sound right. just make sure to enter any forest at the darkest possible spot. then keep going. do not stop. simple. i guess there can be no punches in a world filled with extra virgin olive oil. snow on the ground. i am repeating myself. (oupi style. good night.)