Failure

You taste failure on your tongue. It's a little bitter but you don't care anymore. Across the hall someone blast West End Girls and you want to punch them. You want the perverted physical contact of nuckle on cheek. I don't blame you. It's normal. You go back to your thoughts like the rest of them. But all that you can think of, a good excuse is that you hate the Pet Shop Boys.

Low lifes.

Dogs.

But you'd rather have a date with failure. Because failure is the common, almost, homely comfort of your generation! ... Or so you write, ever so boldy. Success is a whore, but not a trashy one. She is a...a... a well paied hooker. More like a call girl.

And what is failure?

Failure could be your mother or someone hopelessly in love with you and you can stand them. It's not what you want, but it's alright. It's routine you are used to it you know its embrace and the human mind enjoys familiarity.