Chalk

I'm cultivating a culture of despair in my mind. I sow it gently in the moist untrodden places where my weaknesses leave discontented puddles in the pockmarked floor. I sow it without self-loathing or self-pity - it's a thing to do that isn't nothing, and the seeds may grow to choke and color the blandness before me now. There's nothing worse than this chalk landscape with chalk figures finding meaning in chalk figurines; where chalk is what chalk does and nothing chalk tastes of is anything but chalk. All this chalk and not even a blackboard.