the mourning before
2001-07-21 - 11:51 p.m.
The following paragraphs apply to the stuff that happened yesterday. Today, I bummed around the Bangor mall and left my phone number/name on a penny in the food court.
For some reason, it still makes sense to me that the goal of life, the reason for the existence of all creatures in the universe, is to make the Day. Today. Probability suggests that it�s someone�s birthday today. Someone will die of cancer, someone will laugh, someone will be abused. There�s a guy tattooing his girlfriend�s name on his chest, and another guy paying to get his tattoo removed. Today, someone will get a sex change. And the girls will all say similar things to get the guys to do the things they want them to do, and the guys will do things for girls in the hopes that they will be allowed to do more. At this moment, someone is crying. And someone is making that splitt-second decision that will change the rest of their life. Someone is commenting to her friends that she couldn�t see why anyone would want to use weed-killer to be rid of dandelions; scattered in a field like stars in the sky. And despite all this, on a day like today...someone is giving up.
Yesterday, I�d figured out who the most sane person on the planet was. The standard, by which everyone else could be denounced as crazy. And now I�ve forgotten who it was, because I really never made it a point to memorize the names of Hollywood personalities.
and i sit there, and i wonders to myselves. and myselves says to myselves, they says, frome where doth that unsightly bathtubeth ring cometh? and some of my selves, they says, why doth it matter whence it came...it is here in the present. and the other selves, they says, what makes it so unsightly, to be named as such? and still more, they says, there seems so little of it, and it is in such a large world...mayhaps we put it in a jar and ensure its survival, to catalogue and study? and one self stands up, taller than the others, and says it is only a bathtub ring. it is from you, from your water, an extension of your exterior self that you have since shed. and do not gag and do not allow the stomach to churn, for seventy percent of all dust is human skin cells. and dust, it is just dust...you breath it in constantly; you bloodthirsty cannibals!
Some people, they tells me that they gets these compulsions to hear a certain song. And they Need to hear it, and go farr out of their normal pattern of living to do so. But I don�t get songs stuck in my head, I get theories jammed up there. And I Need to read some Jung.
I was gonna see sumone yesterday, but I guess stopping over here on the way back the her house must�ve slipped her mind. Er maybe she got conveniently siC, like the Others. Not that there�s anything wrong with being conveniently siC, it�s a perfectly effective way to avoid life�s situations, if thet�s yer prerogative. No body likes me, everybody hates me, I guess I�ll go eat...nope, the worms dun�t like me either.
I got $10,000 today. And it had nothing to do with Swiss bank accounts, or stolen credit card numbers, or the frozen orange juice market. Well, it didn�t have Too much to do with those things...
Narrator: And so it was that blinking blue lights were seen on the crest of the last hill, in the world inside the review mirror...
Sir#1: What�s your policy on speeding tickets?
Sir#2: Huh? Oh, yes. Something on the order of �you can lead a driver to a ticket, but you can�t make �em pay�. And yours?
Sir#1: �If you can�t get close enough to see their license plate, you can�t ticket �em.� *increases speed from 80mph to 90mph*
