The flow is cold and there is no chicken soup.
There is a good chance that I am being followed. I saw four black trucks outside my home yesterday. Inside each of them were drivers. All of them looked like they were agents from The Matrix. Whenever I was at one end of my home, they would park at that end of the house. If I moved within my home, they’d moved with me. Boys spit game for the block and there are no more parties because they have been blocked.
They want me because I challenge them. I know about the missing stuffed animals. Those were the children’s and they took them and now they’re all gone never to be seen or heard from again. The sadness, I feel it all around me.
The Lakers don’t want me anymore. Mitch told me yesterday. Amnesty is usually a good word, what with it being international and all. Now it’s not. Now it is bad. Now it is the real, true, sadness. I googled “amnesty” today and I’m the third thing that pops up behind an ad for Immigration Amnesty and the wikipedia entry for the word. They’re dropping me.
Now I will focus my pursuits toward the betterment of society. There are secrets within me. Things I know. Things that could bring the whole world to its knees. Pacific Rim is real. That’s happening right now one planet away. The Other Earth. The one next to us. The one that the school books don’t speak of because of its horror. When the moon is full look to the east after burning lilies and inhaling that smoke through your eyes. You will see it there. That is where the real battle is. Monsters are fighting monsters in their streets and their cities are being destroyed and we think that our home is bad because Chipotle didn’t have chicken ready whenever we ordered a burrito so we had to let people go ahead of us in line while they grilled and chopped it fresh. This is not living.
Do you know what your heart is made of? Are you aware that it is being watched? Did you open it up or did you shut it? Will the bank put it in its safe and leave it there for the next Fannie and Freddie? Have you ever seen a giraffe fight a school bus? The right kind of education is hard to reach.
I know that by the time I am 80 I will cease to have anything that could be considered a human face. At that point in my life I will be but a messenger for the coming Stargluzation of the universe. The planets and all their life forms will spin off into a distant universe that does not yet exist in the time that we adhere to as “humans”. At that time we will all become part of a galactic wave of interstellar war and I will own and fly a plane I named “Rawsandra” and I will land on stars and have picnics with the leader of that new world, a creature with the body of a labradoodle and the head of a buffalo. He will be called Monfardasi and he will give me the title of First Leader of the Empirical Elite (FLEE).
Because this will happen, the amnesty is of no real concern of mine, outside of the fact that my human body, what with its weakness and penchant for being desired, is bothered by it. Yes, men cry. Yes. But that does not mean there can’t not be a day in the future wherein there is no pain. I will ride away now on an eagle made of rainbows and the third star in the sky is the one you should be looking to.
The world was never anyone’s but yours and you let them take it from you with your politeness. My eyes are mustaches now.