Toy Soldiers
Sometimes when I am on the bus at rush hour and it is packed so full that with every jerk and corner everyone is stumbling all over eachother, I get to thinking. I think that only real difference between this and some kind of third world busride is that there are no goats on the bus with us. I think about how we are all standing there planning our quickest escape route, examining the clothes, hairdo's and accesories of those people who stand in our path as clues to what kind of neighbourhood they'll be taking their exit. Our perfumes and colognes mingle in the air to create a scent not unlike "CK ONE" but, which reeks to me of some desperate need to smell somehow better than human. As I stand there and listen to that token person who's on every bus, always giving someone a call on the old cell phone to tell them "Hi, I'm just on the bus now!" I think to myself that I would gladly trade that sound for the bleating of a goat.
One stupid thing I did today is take pictures of myself while I spun around in the livingroom really quickly in my new super slidey slippers. I spun so much I made myself really dizzy and sick and in all the pictures I look like a fucked up nutcase.
GOD I can't understand how someone as cool as me doesn't have millions of friends in this town. |
1 comment(s):
This is where I say something but really wont from fear that I just may be the recipient of that "pathetic laugh of the day"...
not unlike the the one recieved by the two "evil geniuses".
Thought provoking stuff.
I appreciate the realism. Thanks for opening me to it.
By
Jav, at
3:53 p.m.
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