log|A|man

I stay up late to see the dark sky, summer sickness is all over me. I go to the park bench nearby in the middle of the night. I feel the precious darkness for myself, this depiction had only ever been presented to me in fiction. I celebrate this sensory achievement I have unlocked. I sleep at sunrise. Sunlight is jealous of my latest courting.

It is now August, but I despise the stench of my own staleness and the sunken hibernation underneath. That wakes me up. I try to shake off the energy by arranging hobbies for my two dozen hours. Hobbies were a trivial thing when I grew up, now the mortal breathing is only justified by moles of oxygen an entity metabolizes chasing these glorified self indulgence. I wish I could give someone my energy. Too much of a burden. Later in the day however, the bigger picture (a fashionable term) from the cosmos pierced through me like a medieval arrow. It renders me subdued, helpless but greatly joyful. I still won the crusade, I say. Most unpleasant time is when the streets are busy. I needed a new playlist; I force a listen, despite knowing that I am idempotent.

I sat in my room; I streamed a guy playing a game that I loved. I disliked his laughter. Bans should be presented for laughs greater than 10 seconds. Next I saw a video reaffirming my liberal beliefs. I deal with the friction by saying other people are tribalistic, not me. I read for the sake of a streak.

I am annoyed by people more than ever. I won’t smile at the rude cashier…I won’t see her with my eyes. I don’t thank (why should I be grateful for someone taking my money), never even think of a bye. I would rather anguish in a million years of uncertainty instead of ever being in their proximity. I wish for them to see my boorishness. Please keep my transgression in your mind as an anecdote. Pass it on. Get triggered by the memory of it. Couldn’t care less if I tried. It’s easy to smear everyone with invisibility.

I become a god loving man again for a brief moment; Like a half wrecked ship I let a solemn cry finally acknowledging all the cryptic messages that were transmitted to me. I couldn’t decipher then. Our combined ignorance is my tragedy.

I go for a dusk stroll. Things and individuals who delight me are in the dark alleys, sitting at the steps, near the fountain, near the abandoned buildings. I see them as knights. Without them it would be too Prussian here. I smile for the sustainers of playfulness. Bless them! Shower is where I reflect. I notice more things; Slow quietus indeed. I perceive differences now. It’s not deja vu, it’s whiplash.

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