I put my laptop beside my head when you’re not in bed with me, not for the warmth, but for the radiation waves. The radiation waves have already infiltrated the waves in my brain and now they are friends with each other. Because of this, I often lose my footing while walking down the stairs at Dufferin subway station.
The waves have really heated, vibrated debates in my head like, What is the fastest route to the Royal Ontario Museum? . . . Read the Twilight saga, bleep bleep h-t-t-p- colon, backslash . . . Oh damn, maybe you should see a therapist . . . nah.
And then I have dreams about the day before. You’re in my dreams and so are all the other people that I find repulsively sexy. All the people that I secretly have crushes on that I see in the Laundromat and American Eagle are in them too. I am the most comfortable when acting in my dreams, but I only ever speak to the girl from the Laundromat. I say acting because I’d never do the things I say and do in my daydreams in my real daytime life, and I say confident because I’m not really behaving like myself. That’s why everyone likes me in my dreams. People want to kiss me and ask me for my phone number. People ask me if I like to drink bubble tea, and I say, “only if it’s from the C’est Bon Bubble Tea shop.”
I say, “You look lovely,” to the Laundromat girl in my dream, and she’s flipping through some ridiculous chick-flick magazine and drinking some name-brand drink. I ask myself why am I even interested in someone drinking from a name-brand cup, because that’s so cliché. I try and make a joke, and she calls me a crude name but my heart doesn’t twist like it normally would. Normally, I’d throw a jab at something to do with her physical appearance; but then we wouldn’t get to make out like we do in every single one of my dreams.
I put my cell phone and my radio beside my laptop too, all lined up on my mattress. The more electronics the more waves, and the more waves the better my confidence in my dreams, and then I’m happy. My legs shake when descending the stairs outside, I don’t know why that is, but I can deal with that. I could never deal with making an actual fool out of myself in my normal mind in the normal dirty world. I just like the humming sounds and the neon lights I see when I close my eyes; they look like the lines in pictures taken by cameras set to the long exposure setting.
Wednesday, March 3, 2010
Life is "beautiful" #1
When I feed my fish I put more than just one pinch of food in the water and then think, “they don’t know any better.” They swim to the surface and began to make the flakes smaller with their circular mouths.
And then I think of what it might to be like to be a fish. I wouldn’t be able to Google things, well, I could try, but I’d either suffocate or get electrocuted. The sparks would burn my poor fins and they’d lose their shine. What if I was an aluminum fish, but not like a robot. Well, only robotic in the sense that I’d speak with an extremely monotone voice and I’d have pre-programmed emotions that I wished that I could control. Someone would ask me out on a date and I’d say yes in my robot voice but I’d want to say no because the person was sweaty and sweat could drip on one of my electrical parts and that would suck.
I’d rather be plugged in to a wall in a really eclectic room and watch someone else’s life play on a screen for me. Even though they had a harder life than me, they are happier than me.
And then I’d think of myself in cartoon, I’m still a fish and everyone else is a human. I’d try to talk to them and be cool and the most popular girl would say, “Don’t you have to have to be somewhere?” like Pet Valu? “No, like gasping for air in a puddle somewhere,” and then they would all laugh, and I’d laugh too, but only because I didn’t understand that ‘gasping for air in a puddle’ was actually slang for we don’t want to hang out with you. Some other kid tries to be my friend and tells me that ‘gasping for air in a puddle’ is sexual innuendo and that the girl has a crush on me. I say “Oh yeah?” but inside I’m thinking: bullshit. Goldfish are bullshit.
I feel really sad when I look at the castle in the fish tank; it’s just a castle with an entrance that is also an exit. Then I think that I’m really thankful for doors, but only when I’m a human, not a fish, because getting stuck inside a fish castle with a door would be a bitch to get out of. I don’t like to let people in, unless we’re just going to watch TV sitting on opposite sides of the room. And it can only be the TV show about them, because my life program was cancelled when I realized that I have to keep lying to myself to maintain any form of sanity or normalcy.
Something about watching a movie of someone's life on an underwater television makes me content.
And then I think of what it might to be like to be a fish. I wouldn’t be able to Google things, well, I could try, but I’d either suffocate or get electrocuted. The sparks would burn my poor fins and they’d lose their shine. What if I was an aluminum fish, but not like a robot. Well, only robotic in the sense that I’d speak with an extremely monotone voice and I’d have pre-programmed emotions that I wished that I could control. Someone would ask me out on a date and I’d say yes in my robot voice but I’d want to say no because the person was sweaty and sweat could drip on one of my electrical parts and that would suck.
I’d rather be plugged in to a wall in a really eclectic room and watch someone else’s life play on a screen for me. Even though they had a harder life than me, they are happier than me.
And then I’d think of myself in cartoon, I’m still a fish and everyone else is a human. I’d try to talk to them and be cool and the most popular girl would say, “Don’t you have to have to be somewhere?” like Pet Valu? “No, like gasping for air in a puddle somewhere,” and then they would all laugh, and I’d laugh too, but only because I didn’t understand that ‘gasping for air in a puddle’ was actually slang for we don’t want to hang out with you. Some other kid tries to be my friend and tells me that ‘gasping for air in a puddle’ is sexual innuendo and that the girl has a crush on me. I say “Oh yeah?” but inside I’m thinking: bullshit. Goldfish are bullshit.
I feel really sad when I look at the castle in the fish tank; it’s just a castle with an entrance that is also an exit. Then I think that I’m really thankful for doors, but only when I’m a human, not a fish, because getting stuck inside a fish castle with a door would be a bitch to get out of. I don’t like to let people in, unless we’re just going to watch TV sitting on opposite sides of the room. And it can only be the TV show about them, because my life program was cancelled when I realized that I have to keep lying to myself to maintain any form of sanity or normalcy.
Something about watching a movie of someone's life on an underwater television makes me content.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)