guess im online now

<intermission> Sitting in a motel lobby in front of the desk with a variety of brightly colored pamphlets from the Department of Tourism, he finds himself half-awake on the sectional couch. An atomic family from the suburbs of Minnesota stare at the horror of a seemingly limp body inhabiting the same room as them. It's only a groan from that body that prevents them from calling the city morgue.  The clean cut father begins a conversation with the motel's receptionist. "What's wrong with that fella?" The receptionist looks over his desk, looking at the unkempt man at the seating area. "Oh, him? He wasn't able to pay for another night in an actual room, so I let him rest on that couch while my manager is not working. The man is quite nice when you strike a conversation with him, and he does not really cause any trouble. Anyways, did you have a reservation?" "Yeah, it's under the name "Walters." But seriously, are you gonna let ...

<television> The sound of the audience created the illusion that I was not alone, but no one was watching me. I still could not sleep. Darkness never seem to arrive when I desired it. The television was a pathetic excuse for a remedy.  As a child, the television gave me comfort. It was the centerpiece to my childhood bedroom. I could tell you the TV schedule every weekday from the time I got home from school to midnight. I rarely had to change the light bulbs in my room, the blue light from the television radiated in my dark room every night.  As I grew older, however, I felt too tired to even turn it on. Instead, I would just leave my curtains opened and peer out into the world outside my room. Sometimes at night, I had a clear view of the moon. I would stare at it for hours, thinking about its size. How could something so big look so small? I found myself opening the curtains of the motel room.  I searched for the moon, but I only saw my reflection in the cold dar...