Guilt

Guilt is a dog licking his dick behind you while you’re trying to work. It’s red wine losing its edge and cigarettes only giving you the urge to vomit. Guilt is being distracted by the world around you: the dog licking his penis, the bad wine, the cyber monday deals, and the rewards points you might get on your Amex shopping them. Guilt is denying that you believe in God despite buying tickets for Yom Kippur services in March. Guilt is giving a junkie your rent and avoiding the news when you realize you might have bankrolled his last hurrah. Guilt is thinking with your dick. Guilt is not sleeping (alone). Guilt is the privilege to lie. Guilt doesn’t go away because you write about a dog licking his dick; dogs do that every day. Guilt is the routine. Guilt is calling your mom too many times a day. Guilt is buying your girlfriend silver. Guilt tries to make you laugh. Guilt is like smoking. Guilt is the smell of dick on a dog’s breath. Guilt is pretending you’re a dog when you walk on two legs.