When I was younger, I ate a black watermelon seed. After I swallowed it, they told me it would stick inside my stomach and grow into a watermelon. This seems illogical now, because I know my stomach is only about the size of my fist, so I think that's called teasing.
Last week, I ate a fortune -- right out of the cookie. I ate because they told me that if I did, it would stick inside my stomach and become true. I think that's called peer pressure.
I said, "Operator? Give me God. Put 'im on the other end," and she said, "Darling, I'll look again, but I don't think He's in this book," and I said, "Maybe you're looking in the wrong one." I hung up really quickly, because I thought she might ask me what book to look in, and the truth is that I'm not sure.
I have a new idea for clocks. I think instead of numbers, they should just have pictures. Things like where the 6 is, just a picture of me hitting the snooze button. At 1800 hours, there'd be dinner. A 24-hour clock, you know? And special clocks for the weekend.
I want to waste time. I'm trying very hard, in fact, but it isn't wasting away. I like to tease time, you know? I like to stand on the platform and pretend I'm not going to get on the Time Train, but if I blink, I'm locked away in my compartment. Happens every time. And time says, "It's AP week, and there's no food in the cupboards, and it's time for you to say goodbye," and I say, "I know. I know, but procrastination and general denial of life are house specials where I come from."
It's AP week, and there's no food in the cupboards, and it's time for me to say goodbye, but procrastination and general denial of life are house specials where I come from. They're specialties of mine. Would you like a side of things-half-written with that? Would you like your mourning scrambled or over easy?
And you? I've written you thirty-seven letters, and I remember what you said. Yeah -- later, still December, in the car, you handed me a handful of foreshadowing, which I didn't understand for eight months, but eight months later, I remember what you said, August 17, and I remember what you didn't say.
The point is, last week I ate a fortune cookie, and now, however metaphorically, everything that I am going to be is housed inside of me, just waiting for me to climb in there and throw open my own silver shutters and let the light in. One day, when I've built up the strength, I'll do just that, and when I do, the carpenter's son will come to me, and he will say, "You are here now. You are here now, and now you understand."
Learner & Lowe were not influenced by Gandhi. Stop lying to yourself.
All my love,
Addy
1 comment:
why is it that every word that drops from your lips is poetry?
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