Bedbugs C

Bedbugs C


Click here for an explanation of how Bedbugs is created.

Click here for the previous Bedbugs.



It's come down to this in time made troublesome
by our own hands and minds. Fighting inside
the maelstrom again, raging and stunned by
a charred, flourescent-lit future of potentials
unwanted by on a cold day in March I'm
reminded of the best and worst kinds of love.
Not as a concept but something out of the
stories and real, if temporary. As she throws
sticks I smiled, delaying the inevitable.
Then she was gone. But the best and worst of
trying and joyous times still represented one thing:
the music in the basement- is the language of
spies, and, forcing clear thought, everyone
realizes it's a welcome distraction but a
distraction nonetheless. Too deep under
bridges lay my ambition. Layers of regret
grown on one's face like moldy beards.
But in a nanosecond of clarity allowed,
green ribbons notwithstanding, I
decide the house and record cannot hurt
me without my consent.

I sit down and create. Undistracted. Noises
ignored. Friendship and romance delayed. And
things get done. Ideas bloom. She wanted
to be in the mountains, one day I hope to
find her again- but a complete being
this time. Daily I force the footwork
until it sprouts other ideas, and...
MOTIVATION. Doing the creative work,
truly, prioritized, turned off the phonograph. I don't
even know where it is. It could return at
anytime but I do not let it. I'm young again.
A blank page before me will soon be filled-
with what? Doesn't matter. What I forgot
to say was....

-Adam Barnick


END CYCLE TWO
100 chapters completed


The end.