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I woke suddenly, hearing my name being called. A rap on the window and the bang of shudders. It was a comedian i had known from my younger days. He rapped again, trying to steady his horse. The horse was destroying my lawn. "You know, you're just not that funny anymore," he relayed in a fairly erudite manner. "There was a time. There was a time..." he tailed off as he rode into the direction of the morning sun. His lack of my sense of humor disturbed me for quite some time. Eventually, though, the lack became a joke. But more the kind told to people who don't care, than anything funny. "It's all relative," i thought to myself, rocking back and forth in a chair that was neither mine nor ever was. I thought of glorious comeback after glorious comeback rocking in that chair. I wrote them down on a piece of paper, lit it on fire and laughed watching the words burn away. I walked into town later with a head full of ideas that my small hands could not possibly grasp. Thought bubbles appeared and just as quickly popped like frogs in a dynamite pond. I needed a window seat on a fast moving train. "This isn't 1865, kid. They don't have train stations in towns like this anymore," some random old man accused. "Screw you, old man!" I was losing patience as well as steam. At midnight i went to see the old wise man. He burned a candle as all good clich�s would. "But it happened. It all happened," i pleaded my case. "It happened... and i was there and you were and this moment right now... this happened. It was real. And this is real." I was talking to a garbage can. The can's silence mocked me. As I walked back home i shook my head in disbelief. With a perpetual shrug on my shoulders, i felt the need to explain myself to every passing car. "I don't know, man. It's crazy." My feet seemed to float, all the while extending some sort of whorish invitation. Back at the house there was a fire going. Some apparition blew smoke signals while the kids roasted marshmallows. Someone picked up a guitar and started jangling muzak-tinted Blah. Daytime to nighttime / The best I ever seen "This is ridiculous," i thought to myself, afraid to speak. Afraid i'd be wrong, i guess. I smelled of burnt socks. I crawled into bed exhausted. My ears were ringing and i had an overwhelming urge to cry like a big baby. The bed was too short for me. I could see my toes hanging off the edge ever so clearly in the mirror opposite my bed. "It's funny," i thought. "This is funny." |