More often than not, I'm digging my heels into the ugly laminate floor. It has this grayish tone that sucks the life from every fiber of my body. A magnet for negativity I would say. My legs are stretched out hoping to catch a piece of the rug. It always looks to be out of reach, as it inches closer to the tv. Five rectangles of fibers, ranging from cream to green, some bigger than the last. The detailing tells a story far more exquisite then anything on Max. Holding the ingenuity of the generations before. I pull my body from the stitching on the couch, to outstretch towards the rug. I take my place on the soft fibers and turn my attention to the TV, as it captures me in a trance. October has passed me by as I’m sitting too close to the TV.
