damn. feels like eight retards are controlling a giant set square, point-side-up, that is simultaneously being lowered and pulled down, over my head, jostled through the thick of the crown of my skull, cross-sectioning the middle of my brain down to my jaw, and is then slowly being removed, lifted up about three feet, and then lowered again, for the ultimate purpose of measuring the length of my shoulders, using the pythagorean theorem.
yesterday i ran into my friend who has an awesome moustache while i was walking around, looking for a job. He was in the driver's seat of a running car, which i have never seen happen before, and he told me he didn't have any cigarettes but that 'they' were 'hooking it up' tonight. so i made a point to call him later.
i walked across the street to a comic book shop and asked the proprietor how business was going. he said 'alright' or something like that, and then asked if i had a question. i replied that i was interested in working there, to which he said 'it's not going that well' which was the response i expected, so i asked a few more courtesy questions, out of curiosity, because the location of the shop seemed in no way advantageous, yet they seemed to have a steady stream of comic book readers going in and coming out. the only answer he would give me was that 'this comic book shop was founded in 1983' with a dead stare, accompanied by and a couple of 'uhuhs'. so i took my cue to leave. the man behind me walked up to the register and said 'number one-hundred eighty-five' to which the proprietor nodded and immediately walked into the back storage room. 'curious' i thought. 'nerds' i immediately thought after that.
i walked back to my grandmother's car, where she sat, fanning herself because of the heat and humidity, and i told her that i had picked up an application from the deli at the corner of the plaza. she smiled and asked if i wanted something to drink. she handed me ten dollars from her knock-off fendi purse, and i proceeded into CVS to get two arizona iced teas with lemon. i was tempted to buy cigarettes, but didn't.
my grandmother and i went to the movie theater after this, to see 'up'. we were the only people in the theater. my grandmother cried aloud multiple times. 'up' is my least favorite of all of pixar's films. it is about a series of dreams that people have that do not come true. that is all that it is about as far as i can tell. outside of the theater, a man bummed me a cigarette. He had torn a hole in the bottom his pack, which an old crackhead once told me is a sign that he has been to prison. i put the cigarette behind my ear and thanked him. my grandmother and i started driving to my house and it began to rain to the point where the windshield wipers were absolutely useless, so we pulled over under a tree, and waited until the dime-sized hail pellets stopped falling on the moon-roof. i heard something like the sound of a train rushing toward us and lightning struck just over the hill. i felt very happy and exhilarated throughout this experience.
once we were at my house i put the cigarette in my mouth and went to check and see if water had flooded the basement. the cigarette did not get wet from the rain at all. there was no standing water in the basement. the rain stopped. i felt severely depressed. i went out on my porch and smoked my cigarette. i imagined that i was on my own planet with a trillion high-definition televisions making up the planet's surface, playing a synchronized, ever-changing, fractal pattern everywhere. off in the distance, nuclear bombs exploded and x-planes that have yet to be designed, ripped each other to shit in insane dogfights, and i stood, calm, serene, smoking my cigarettes on the edge of a nuclear bomb's crater, where i could see the planet's interior. A mesh of pop-culture images and characters, all alive and writhing, intertwined and made up the fleshy, cartoony center of this planet, and the image of this scared me into opening my eyes, and i saw that there were big trees all around me, and this made me more afraid. i took a final drag from my cigarette as the rain began again.
i went inside of my house and ask my grandmother if she would like to be serenaded. she said yes. i played my guitar until she fell sound asleep. i stopped playing and traveled to the basement, to my futon where my comforter and pillow waited me. i slept. i woke up at midnight and remembered that my friend with an awesome moustache said 'they' were 'going to hook it up' tonight. so i called him. he didn't answer. i looked at my phone. i had no missed calls. i went back beneath my comforter and on top of my pillow, to sleep.
today i was disappointed all day for no apparent reason whatsoever. then around 5:30p.m. i went onto facebook.com and saw a brand new photograph album had been uploaded. after looking through about five-to-seven pictures i realized that 'they' were 'hooking it up' last night, and eventually i saw a picture of my friend with an awesome moustache and suddenly felt 'left the fuck out'. that is why i wrote this. thanks for giving me your attention.