Ooo-ooo, isn’t she about as cute as a lil’ monkey?

 

How does this work?  I haven’t eaten or slept.  The ugly’s in them, in me.  I shouldn’t be out.  It’s not safe.  The people in my train car they see the bilious ooze coming out of my pores.  I attract noxious energy that makes me hate, back in return.  I’m nauseous.  But God forbid I should have to hurl — this stupid train doesn’t allow you to walk in between cars, like the old big grey ones.  And it’s fucking express. The man sitting across from me digs wax from his ear, rolls it up and flicks it in the floor.  His features are asymmetrical in a non aesthetic way.  This train smells like, like… The woman wearing pink platform shoes and a mini-dress carries her shoulders too high like she’s expecting something.  Her legs — I can see she’s relied on them for a while — they’re long, strong-looking.  But I can still hear her quietly begging.  She’s self-conscious.  I refuse to let her see me, looking.  She’s tossed her hair, that fake-ass hair, too many times.  Shethinks people believe it’s hers.  Trouble-makers.  There are more of them in this train car.  They look at me – I know.  I know they’re judging me.  I am judgmental.  The only one I like is on my left, a self-contained woman in a blue and burgundy print dress and black shoes.  Her heels are moderate.  She’s reading and not looking up and around, all needy.  She’s not looking for approval and doesn’t offend me.  Her gestures don’t spill over into my space.  This is a rolling coffin and damn I could define the stench but it would make me sick.

On the other side of that ear digger guy is a little scrunched in one — people-pleaser. She gave money to that subway car performer.  I didn’t give a goddamned thing!  Oh and now she’s smiling — to herself, one of those creepy, subtle smiles.  Smiling, smiling – what the fuck’s she smiling at!  She’d dig a knife in your back with that thing on her face.  I know the type:  “I have a good heart.  Like me.  Please?  I do good for people.  Oh don’t hurt me.  You’re going to hurt me because you don’t smile at the sunny day.”  Do you know the depth of the world’s dysfunction?  This gesture of giving a dollar to a man who’ll probably use it for crack, will help?  Why the hell can’t she stop smiling?  She looks like a nut!  Crazy. She’s a little thing, like a rhesus monkey with long brown hair, wearing a trench coat.  Ooooo-ooo, you sooo cute, I protect you littoo monkey…