The air in the room where she sat before a computer
and then she had my heart for dessert
The First One…
It was a hot Summer day. The thermometer said it was a good day to seek the cool comfort of shade and the people listened, scurrying to shade and relief.
Inside a store there she sat. Beautiful. Dressed in alluring attire designed to turn eyes towards her direction.
A humming sound came from her. Was it the tune of happiness? Maybe it was part of the attire designed to attract the attention of friend, family, stranger?
Her attraction was too much. I was drawn to her like a bee to honey.
Walking with determination it was but a short distance to cover and she did not cower or falter. No, her humming only increased.
A flustered look appeared on my face. Concern. What was hope soon turned into the realization that I did not have enough of what she yearned for.
What to do? Should I turn and walk away in defeat?
Pondering and about to make a decision of retreat, the thoughts came full force. What I needed for her was outside in a small box in my parents vehicle.
Turning and with hope in the steps I found in the vehicle what she needed…
With full confidence I place inside her the shiny silver dime. The dime which unlocked her secrets.
Lifting the lid on the cooler the humming of her compressor grew louder while peering inside her it was revealed to be many cool treasures.
There was the standard Coke and 7-up. There was Root Beer and Sprite. All well and good but her best guarded secret was the Orange Crush…
“Ahhh…” Taking the cold glass bottle and popping the cap, the first taste of the fizzing joy was orgasmic. Even now the smile of the memory remains on the face of the first crush. It was and still is, extremely wonderful.
i am glad you asked…
today was another day of the illusion humans cling so proudly. three men today working on a shower with all the bravado and spunk of a ten year old.
“Fuck.” and “Damn”. and “I like that song.”
looked them in the eyes and smiled; seeing a potential past and a definite future.
and you know what? I remembered a lot. The eyes. The shadows. The ways.
Sad really, the conflicts.
Between this and that and in between the between reside an order where the self is and deep.
And those chickens clucking the other day? It was a great day.
Now, I could write about today, yesterday, tomorrow or sixteen billion trillion years zillion’=;gagoobzon from yesterday…. and yet, nothing can truly understand me.
(i smile)
A whipping post of absolutes and dreams.
Surrendering to the others.
Retaining only an ethic of work and perspiration
and today,
to my friend
the Wind…
i say,
thanks.
Her, and, and, and…
Life.
Dream? There is no dreaming when it comes to chocolate…
Chocolate is REAL! (dabnabbit!)
The best chocolate is NOT Hershey. (gag. useless chocolate unless you want to make a chocolate candle)
Europe.
Scandinavia.
Marabou chocolate from Sweden will put you into the nicest diabetic coma you could ever want. Even your drool dripping from your unconscious body would taste delicious though that would be freaky.
Dark chocolate. Milk chocolate.
Strange for a big ol country called, U.S. of A… this country makes shitty chocolate.
Damn, even Poland makes better chocolate.
I don’t know about chocolate in Africa, what with rhinos and water buffalo, but I bet they dream about it. They probably dream about food and water. But IF they do make chocolate goodies they probably are better than this countries offering.
So…
Does the A.I. algorhthym \\\ (the magical juice running WordPress) Do it,they,them,those,and then others. Is an honest answer needed? An answer boarding on gibberish and the insane? Maybe an answer to make the writer seem ‘hype’ or cool, or deeeep, or full of shit?
Lets try some answers and let the read decide what is what.
“I love to find that elusive booger sticking way up the nasal cavity. You know the one. Clinging. Almost in reach…until…Yay! Success! (munch munch munch)”
“To work in a soup kitchen in the many cities dotted with mentally ill, weird street people. Makes life so fulfilling.”
“Fart a silent but deadly in a WalMart aisle filled with people and watch their reactions while the eyes water.”
“To fall asleep and travel.”
“Cheese. Lots of cheese. And ice cream. Yeah, ice cream with cheese… And potato chips. Cheese, ice cream chips, and…”
Oh so my simple things to do. What is real? What is not? Fuck it, all Life brings joy, it’s the fucktards that ruin it.
(alrighty miss know-it-all. your friends are a bit strange. understand and pleased to acknowledge what’s burning inside)
Daily writing prompt
Describe one simple thing you do that brings joy to your life.
The day of taking the first breath and getting my ass spanked by a human so I could ‘breathe’ Wow. What a fucked up place.
Knew right there and then that there was a mix up and even though was assured that it would all be good and wonderful, knew it was time to decouple/part ways/rebel, especially seeing that on this planet everything is plugged into death/hate/evil.
To solve the problem there has been some options. 1. Try and make the world a better place which was a total disaster 2. Learn to become numb and jaded while trying to make the world a better place which was more than a total disaster. 3. Try to persuade the powers-that-be to intervene and make the world a better place (so the world responded and killed those trying to make the world a better place, thus a continuation of failure 4. Try love to make the world a better place which was far beyond any definition of failure.
There were a lot of other options. Some peaceful, some strange and exotic, and through it all, failure.
So, now there is only one course of action left. First, embrace failure as a very important lesson and stick with what works. Leave this planet to its own devices and failure and return back to where i belong, far, far, far away from any concept of this shit.
(did consider eating the sun and leave this planet to freeze but then I would be as cruel as humans. so, enjoy the illusions of peace/harmony/and warmth)
Daily writing prompt
How do you know when it’s time to unplug? What do you do to make it happen?
Easy…
When they truly get to know me and don’t tear off all of their clothes and run away in fear only to be consumed by their own insecurities and fear.
“What jobs have you had?”
Mmmmm… Lets see.
First though. Before answering the question a thought…
Do I answer as sober and sane, or drunk and high and fucking insane?
If you’re reading this and have read anything before of mine putting paper to ink…
My jobs have been 1. To destroy planets. 2. Read the vibration of see 3. Stall the detonation of an exploding atomic bomb. 4. Baby sitting. 5. Bucking bales 6. Sailing the seas and playing in the surf. 7. Saluting the flag at U.S. embassies (and so much more)
OR
I had a paper route where I had to ride that goddamn shwinn green piece of crap. Then I advanced to bagging groceries. Joined a knitting club and made long ass scarves for orphans in Siberia. Then I hired out as a ‘sherpa’ hauling clients shit to the top of Mt. Everest Hotel and Casino. And… And…
So, which is written in sincerity and which was under the influence? Go ahead. You’re the reader. If you can’t decide which is which than might I suggest you choose C?
Robin Lipinski 