Ragged Ideas - Fighting Rats

This is the raw sample of a story I am currently creating. Like a ball of destruction, I have absolutely no indication of where it is headed, and strangely enough I am starting this from the mid-point.

So the premise is this: I collected a series of photos from strolling around late night after the rain had retired. Insomnia struck me hard as it frequently does. The wave shocks of need for self-entertainment once again took me over so i started to take take photos like I usually do (this was in June before my camera had passed away.) Anyhow, I decided to use each image to connect a story and dialogue together to see where it ends up, as well as to focus some words and details away from the other stories I am currently working on. It becomes strange because you have all of these side- scenarios that get thrown away from one story and don't want to completely lose them, So I suppose this story is where many of them will end up. This one will be gritty to the bone and full of corporal commentary to spew away those healthy criticisms.

Every aspect of the town became dead to me. Each breath had been lived at least twice and now all there was to do would be climb every rut and stand atop, watching it all melt away. Signs I never wanted to read and a ten-count on both fingers of patrol cars constantly warding me away from the boundaries. No matter which turn, the eventless alleys would welcome them to swoop by in a condescending manner. I must have done something wrong to be out at these hours, right?

Sluts, assholes and bums and booze hounds, all wiring me into a groggy atmosphere in a place where the sun will never reach... Like the base level of some William Gibson novel... I too, stuck in the Matrix.

The trees sway but I feel no breeze. The word 'revolution' is written across old beat up metal garbage cans, appropriately. Thrown away, like ragged ideas, rats fight over food crumbs like shoppers in the holiday rush literally killing each other over television sets on sale price.