94 lines
4.0 KiB
Plaintext
94 lines
4.0 KiB
Plaintext
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HELLO.
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NEVER EAT APPLES UNLESS YOU CAN BYTE BACK.
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THANK U.
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-:-
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Onto his board he climbed, willing and ready for anything. What sort of
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future lied ahead? He could not keep his thoughts hammered down to the old,
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rotted equiptment he used to communicate, and the best of the crop quickly
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left his mind to enter a lone state in unexplored territory. But what he did
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get down in time was chilling enough to change the scope of life for hundreds
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of faithful listeners, directly and indirectly. It was here when he realized
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that the earth is composed of cycles of revolutions, and so is the concept of
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time. Where hate can breed, so can passion and love. And so on the other
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side of the barrier, the flowery side, he'd hear a dj hammering tunes over the
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radio and ponder about the place Somewhere Else where people were dancing to
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the same music he was listening to. They would be dancing, as he sat thinking
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about the world's revolutions and confusions. All this got too out of control
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for him, so his mind shifted out of this land and into more touching but clear
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subjects. And thus is the Politics of Life.
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We can become a media if we open up. Until then, we must live in a shell. He
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sat there and thought about this for a second, and thought how foolish life
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really can get. That is, nothing is so serious as being foolish. When one
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can let the body break into rhetortical spasms of loose energy, there is not
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set formula on what will result. Such is the Seriousness of Nature.
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And now, hammering away, he could not stop the nagging question. What
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happens next? Would he survive? C'mon, it's not over. He knew it. But she
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didn't. She was at work, making money. He was crooning about stupid subhuman
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topics such as getting drunk and laid all in one night.(!) Knowing that it
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didn't work, he could say that they didn't stand a chance. But he knew that
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there's no giving in, and when push comes to shove, you've gotta fight for
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what you love. So getting up, he connected his apparatus to the equiptment.
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The old wooden fixture was hot now, and steam was emerging from the sides. A
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warning message flashed. "Stop making sense. Reapeat. Stop making sense."
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And thus would be the end of his world. There would be no metamorphasis;the
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change was complete. But the love and passion drew him with an electricity
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that could only be described as fury.
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After the connections were made, and ground control cleared, he was ready. He
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would be a star. Stars don't fall out of the sky. But then the forshadowing
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would be complete. And he could not face his life changing as much as so. He
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was away from her, and anything he tried would be in vain. He wasn't going to
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pull the plug just yet. Even though he had nothing to live for, it would be
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more interesting to keep going and watch it all drip away. So now, he stood
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up, on top of the steaming machinery, and plugged in his mike. The system was
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roaring now, and the blood in his head was gushing to and fro. This is it, he
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thought. I'm gonna do it!
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But not just yet. He'd do it, but then nothing would be left. "Stop making
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sense. Warning code red. Stop making sense." If he was to do it, he'd
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have to pull it off now. The future shock that he would face coming back
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would be devastating, but what the fuck, he thought, you only get one damn
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life, make the best of it and learn to rock and not to roll. So he turned the
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switch to full, and screamed. The tension was high as the words to his love
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song went through his head, a passionate tune to be soon heard round the
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world, in every corner where life pounds. But just then his guitar caught air
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and wind, and the true meaning to love was revealed to him. He reached deep
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into the mike, and screamed with all his body and soul, the most utterable and
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knowlegable word: "B00g."
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-:-
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Esaelp
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Llac:
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Rouf
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Xis
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Eno
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Eerht
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Eerht
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Eerht
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Rouf
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Eerht
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Eno
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Eerht
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:)
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