Conversations about work

damn, you don't KNOW busy. I know busy. I AM busy. Busy is me, and it is through me, and I am of it.

I KNOW busy. busy is where I begin. busy is where I never end. busy is the foundation I am built upon.

This busy loves me until I bleed, then it turns me round and gets busy on me all over again.

The busy is like a noisy disorder, strangling my chest. It fills every bead of sweat sliding from my anxious hands. It also smells like yesterday and the day before. The odor chokes me.

im so busy I don’t have the time to do the things that are supposed to be keeping me busy.

Me, I'm so busy i'm about to pee my pants, cause I do NOT have the time for the whole "get to bathroom, pull down pants" yada yada.

im so busy, ive had to transfer my "weekend" bedpan to my office chair so as I may continue on with my work without any interruptions from my overly active bowels.

I just eat my own shit - WHOSE got time to get to the snack machine, what with all this crap I gotta do?

the busy is the bogeyman under my bed that grabs my ankles and pulls me down into his cold cramped cave.

the busy wants me to read his screenplay, and he won't take a hint.

The busy is a nightmare monster, and I know I have to run from the busy but my legs are so heavy and the room is tilting up higher and higher and im falling back and the busy will consume me.

the busy has a large mouth with strong, retractable jaws. the busy is hungry. it is always hungry.

the busy is the first time you drank too much, and you don't want to vomit anymore, but the busy wants you to keep hurling. again. and again.

there is the busy, waiting for you. lurking. the busy is going to take your lunch money. the busy will poke you with stiff, surprisingly muscular fingers. poke poke poke. you try not to cry, but the busy taunts you. the busy likes it better when you look weak.

I owe the busy 700 dollars, and he's given me my last motherfucking chance.
[busy stands in corner, swinging large metal pipe repeatedly into his palms. looks at you and squints. points one finger]

the busy is my record label, and they just added 14 more dates in Asia cause the second single is doing really good in Thailand and I havent seen my new baby since she was 12 weeks old.

the busy is four turntables each with a copy of James Brown's 'Get on the Good Foot', and im in the Beat Juggling world semifinals against this really talented 14 year old from Amsterdam

the busy is going around town with a picture of you, asking questions, getting answers. the busy is closing in.

the busy made me a mixtape [its mostly phil collins era genesis] and sent me flowers. It left a message on my voicemail and it was all in song. I think the busy is trying to seduce me.

the busy isn’t even smiling today, it’s past pretending we are friends. the busy is barking orders in a scolding tone. it growls closely, practically in my ear, and its breath is hot and it spits when it talks. im afraid to turn around, I know it’s staring at me. It’s waiting for me to make a mistake.