“………….”
By Ben Myers.
I left the house in the morning and I walked the streets. I walked the streets and I looked at my feet. I talked to a squirrel about Plato then I went to the supermarket and asked for “a quart of Kool Aid”, then remembered I am not American and this is not America, so I just got a pint of milk instead.
I went to a coffee shop and ordered “a coffee” and then I poured some of my milk into the coffee and then I drank the coffee and then I belched coffee and then I thought about writing a poem about belching coffee, but then I dismissed the idea of writing a poem about belching coffee because I am inherently lazy and no writers actually write anything these days. “Save it for the blog,” I thought.
I called up my “girlfriend” then hung up on the third ring. She is called Kooky. I’m not sure what she “does”. I think she braids hair or helps the aged or some shit. I say “girlfriend” but I barely even know her.
I went to the cinema and watched a Jean Claude Van Damme triple bill “ironically”. I smirked when he kicked some guy’s head clean off, but cried at the sad parts.
I left the cinema and I walked the streets, all the while looking at my feet. I thought about renting some billboard space so that people could read more about my “interesting” life. I thought about maybe calling up the guys in The Mars Volta and offering to play rhythm guitar on their next album. I thought about buying some hats.
I went to an internet café and updated my Facebook status to let everyone know that I was in an internet café, updating my Facebook status. Then I did the same on MySpace. I put in a “friend request” for Adolph Hitler and one for Ray Mears. Imagine having Hitler as your friend. Imagine having Ray Mears as your friend. You’d never starve in the wilderness, that’s for sure.
I logged off MySpace and went over to YouTube where I watched some footage of some dancing cats in “Poland”. I think I’ve heard of “Poland”.
I “love” the 21st century. Love it.
I went to an open mic poetry reading and I read my poem ‘I & I & I & I & I & I’ in a Jamaican accent. It’s a piece written in patois, from the standpoint of a stoned Rastafarian. The audience were “stunned” into silence, though some guy was so moved he threw a glass pitcher at my head. I left the open mic night and went to Subway and stared at a girl’s tits until she felt really uncomfortable.
I went home and I wrote all of the above down on my blog because I thought the world should probably know about it and within the hour I got offered a three-book deal with Big Penis Books, which I turned down because I’m not a sell-out, and anyway the advance was too small. I sent them a reply saying “Thanks, but no thanks. I’d rather write for 3:AM Magazine for no money than commit to a long-term book project that would require an attention span of more than….”
I turned on the TV, “channel surfed” for between three and four minutes, turned it off, then on again, then off again.
I formed a band in my head called Fingerless Love, then I broke it up due to “musical differences”. I rifled through my pockets and found a lot of spare inverted commas that I had yet to use up in my writing. They looked like this:
“ “ “” “ “”” “ “ “
“ “ “” “ “”” “ “ “
I decided to save them for tomorrow’s blog. “Tomorrow”? “Tomorrow” never comes. It did yesterday.
I went to bed. Bed is a futon. Futons are cool. Uncomfortable, but cool.
I slept with an “ironic” smirk on my face in case anyone was watching me and thought I was taking sleep too seriously. No one takes anything seriously any more.
“We” all “exist” in “inverted commas” “these” “days”.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Ben Myers has written some books. novels, poetry, biographies – that type of thing.
First published in 3:AM Magazine: Thursday, May 22nd, 2008.
