background noise

Third day at the hotel, inert. Vague memories that mingle with the sound of laughter coming from the hallway. Young laughter, smeared with alcohol and good intentions that end in resentment and alimony. Background noise that is not mechanical. It is inside you and establishes a dense mentality, like something trying to slowly shut down. The sound of the sheets when one moves over them. Those slow awakenings that remain in memory. Mouths, skin, something wet. Room service leaving me for dead. Planes flying over LAX with people convinced of their own lives, their beliefs, their possessions.