observe

He sits in the muggy, curtained room. The sun shines outside the window, but he intentionally blocks it out. He is in his boxer shorts, accompanied with a white t shirt that’s turned grey from being worn over the years. His stomach bulges slightly out of the waistband and he cannot recall the last time he brushed his hair. A half eaten slice of pizza sits by his side, his only companion. It’s been sitting out for hours now and the flimsy paper plate has absorbed the grease. Remnants of potato chips are lodged between the crevices of the keyboard attached to the monitor. It provides the only source of light aside from the rays of daylight that sneak in through the bottom of the shades- he may be physically a man, but he wastes his life away playing fantasy games. Though you’d probably never realize, he has the most beautiful eyes that I’ve ever seen on a boy-however,they’ve turned bloodshot from hours of staring at the screen in front of him. There is nothing left besides his reliable, mechanical friend-the rest have long since moved out of town or found a girl. For this pathetic specimen, life has become simply the time that occupies between self induced orgasms. Once, there were people who cared, but his stubborn indifference towards everyone has driven away even the most determined. He doesn’t bother to plug in the cell phone that died two days ago (or three? the monotony of the days causes time to melt together like a continuous line rather than segments separated by rest). No one will text him today. He doesn’t mind-to care is to inevitably be hurt. All that he wants now is to jerk off in disconnect.