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Cheese N Crackers 003
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-[ C H E E S E ' N ]-
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___|text file # 003|___-[ C R A C K E R S ]-______________!___________________
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* "when arithmetic fails" |`.
*______________________________________[ brian : 18th of October, 2002 c.e. ] *
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you'll never ever get to feel it like i get to feel it, softly and with such
delicate grace that any sudden jerk would shatter its elegance. reason can't
explain why my paradise is your perception of mere squalor. regretfully, you
wake up to the same morning at the same time of each day, one increment unit at
a time. that night, i found myself avidly focused on the cushions of your love-
seat.
"i must say, i do love this upholstry."
"yes, why thank you, it was actually my aunt that surrendered them to me.
dear, i say 'surrendered' as though i tortured the poor thing to death. they
were, naturally, a gift,"
i just mimicked your gentle laughter and disregarded the entire conversa-
tion inasmuch as was continued. particularly, my boots were clouded in dust,
and i'm sorry, but do you ever clean this place up?
as long as we've been friends, i've always felt a distance from you. our
set planes are positioned so perfectly that they unsatisfy the stars and be-
cause of this, you will never understand my actions. but, i've grown used to
this. i don't argue with the supernatural or the faith of things, i just sit
back with a pipe in hand and idly watch the sunset set and the twilight erupt.
honesty claims to be the number one tool of the devil, and all i receive
from you is a legal pad stare, watered down and sensationalized. all of you
xerox people are the same. you want to be a psychologist. you want to have
two or three children, more boys than girls, and a brunette wife without a ca-
reer. "dinner is served, darling. i prepared your favorite: pot roast!"
at this point in your drudgery, the only connection you make to supper is
a sparkling memory fiesta of one damn intoxicating evening with your buddies
and girlfriend, before she was your wife, at darrel's apartment. "kings," you
remember, "are damn fine men."
so here, i will narrate the end of the poor bullock:
"i'm sorry, but why are we friends? cars get me from my home to my job and
right back the same way it came. i don't care anymore about the girls you bed
and i don't give a damn whether you were castrated or not. so, please, can we
get one thing straight here? you don't belong with me, and i don't belong with
you. we are obviously just working at something that shouldn't be, so can you
please just be on your way and get out of my life?"
and though i didn't stare back at you on your departure, i did rest easy
for the rest of that evening knowing that i wouldn't ever be bothered by your
insanity any longer and ever again.
_______________________________________________________________________________
http://www.bubblemonkey.org/cheesencrackers
cnc-003.txt written by brian
<brian@bubblemonkey.org>
copyright (c) 2002, your mom.
