pinch red pot holes for dimples
Updated: May 27, 2020
the clouds tonight were glorious. morning brought pillows. afterhours hinted for a midnight snack. they resembled an oversized bear claw protecting that custard filling moon. i battled with the drive home. many moments where i thought to halt traffic and point up. i tossed my glance over to my neighbor and they seemed to be hypnotized. my inner child wanted to believe that it was because of the natural environment. no, of course not. the latest iphone upgrade had their attention. it's a shame.
i asked another coworker for a massage. again, i offered to pay them. they denied the sign of retribution. said that they would do it for free. see, here we go once more. their delivery was convincing. i really thought it was going to happen that night. two weeks of stress, fucked up sleep cycles and full use of the right side of my brain has caused this nerve buildup. they refuse to use protection, so incest proved a large scale domino effect. knots were not so forgiving this week. they've now spread to my shoulder blades. epidemic. cooking renders difficult. especially when egg whites need some love. needless to say, i did not get a massage. this is some cruel ass shit i tell you. third time though just may be a charm.
a man came in tonight and swore on his mother's life the government was after the organic ketchup in our condiment aisle. his reasoning was quite interesting. they don't want us to know about the organic craze. why? well because eating organic allows you to think outside the box. literally. so, apparently they all come in at night and buy us out leaving the modern consumer wandering pathetically in confusion as to why we are out of an american staple. he also added that they cleared out all of the organic hot dog buns. i know, sacrilegious bastards ::smiles:: silence sat between us.
i skipped the response scene and walked away. i felt it was necessary. he followed me for roughly 20 feet. it felt like pacman, except he had already done his rounds. he was eating dead space and i was certainly not leaving any circles behind. i led him to the front door and smiled. he needed a way out. i was his guide. i watched him walk in a diagonal line in the parking lot. the doors closed and there i was in the reflection. why we are out of ketchup and buns would have no connection to memorial weekend.
let's scale back to the cloud army. i have successfully devoted two solid hours of my day to them. off and on naturally. the idea of sitting in a meadow as corn straws hum sweet nothings under a cloud menagerie is still on the bucket list. with all of the day-to-day trials and tribulations, it's virtually impossible to materialize such desire. one day, though... i remain hopeful.
under the bear claw, i came upon a relative conniption. the sensation sent electric currents around each crevice on my neck. the clouds are always in constant movement. regardless of wind patterns, they float on. they have this eternal intuition as to where they need to go. perhaps they pause briefly at a location for just enough time to appreciate the visual, and then they move forward. people get stuck often. rather than pause to reconsider alternative options, they opt to allow negative dialects into their workflow. this workflow naming their existence. we spend far too much time in one place. one mindset. one emotion. the universe is endless and i truly hate to break it to you, but you're not in the center. move forward like the cloud army. mother nature sends us signs. people really need to look around more often.
it's all matter. we're all made up of psychological idiosyncrasies that formulate into an intense cycle that of which, condenses within a hollow frame. a frame that has the capacity to expand volume. our balloon skins begs for inflation. we'd much rather sit on the bench limp from all the realistic reflections. this is comfortable. wrinkled and filled with chemicals. presumably, it is also how we were raised. society deemed us dim from the beginning. very few individuals have the balls to fill their tank to the rim and fly. we are consumed with ourselves. this is why we resemble prune balloons.
we are aging at a mind altering rate. kids walking from school look more like prehistoric giants. hunched over in their quasi swag with a phone swinging between fingers. they look up, i look up, our eyes meet for a moment. where is the youthful charm in tomorrow's generation? their eyes have more skin folds than a cemetery. where i had a yo-yo and managed to retain my innocence, they have a technological piece of plastic that is sucking their curiosity dry. it starts here. our world is up for a major challenge. pretty soon, we won't be able to even see the clouds. more plastic will build overhead and flood our routines with objects that encapsulate a self centered lifestyle. these are the thoughts in my mind lately.
a new tune was recommended to me recently. i find it inspiring and worth while. i can't help but feel a smile every time it comes on. the clock spins to a prime number.
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