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Literature Text
Tick-tock. Tick-tock.
You know this is your watch, counting down your life. Counting down your happiness. Your depression. Whatever ending you're waiting for, you can always count on your watch to count down to it.
T-minus whatever.
His watch is tick-tock tick-tocking too, but you know he doesn't mind the sound. Those who welcome death are the better ones at embracing life.
He's a product tester. Every product must be tested. He jumps out of an airplane flying at 13,000 feet above sea level. Just after he jumps out, within the first few seconds, he's already falling at 90 miles an hour toward the ground. Terminal velocity, when he stops accelerating, he's falling at the ground at 120 miles an hour, if his belly or his back is facing the Earth. He prefers on his back. Imagine laying in bed at 120 miles an hour. You can see why he does this.
If he pitches his upper body down, he's now doing a swan dive at anywhere between 150 to 200 miles an hour.
He does this with parachutes that have been tested to have a 60 % rate of failure.
This is therapy.
This is therapy for people who don't get better with pills or talking.
He flies at the Earth with a 60 % chance of dying. At that probability, not even flipping a coin provides any comfort about how it's going to turn out.
Heads. Or tails.
Which end will hit the ground first?
And the whole fall his watch is tick-tocking, and no one knows how many tick-tocks it has left.
Except maybe the parachute.
Tick-tock. Tick-tock.
He says, this sixty percent dead man says to you, You know, I don't believe the Bible.
You tell him you've never thought him the Christian type anyway.
He smiles. No, he means, he doesn't think Eve was tricked into eating that apple.
He says, Maybe there was no talking snake. Maybe Adam and Eve just got bored.
Their infinite happiness was obviously pretty finite. A clock ticking down to the slow demise of mankind. Started with an apple.
Maybe being happy all the time got Adam and Eve depressed.
Tick-tock.
They didn't have planes back then.
Maybe Adam and Eve wanted something a little different. Shake shit up.
Tick-tock.
Parachutes were far from invented.
Maybe Adam and Eve didn't need to eat from the Tree of Knowledge to know that what they were going through was wrong.
Tick-tock.
Maybe they didn't need a talking snake to hear that the words spoken to them were lies.
Or maybe they just wanted to fuck things up so bad no one could ever fix them again.
Tick-tock. Tick-tock.
You know this is your watch, counting down your life. Counting down your happiness. Your depression. Whatever ending you're waiting for, you can always count on your watch to count down to it.
T-minus whatever.
His watch is tick-tock tick-tocking too, but you know he doesn't mind the sound. Those who welcome death are the better ones at embracing life.
He's a product tester. Every product must be tested. He jumps out of an airplane flying at 13,000 feet above sea level. Just after he jumps out, within the first few seconds, he's already falling at 90 miles an hour toward the ground. Terminal velocity, when he stops accelerating, he's falling at the ground at 120 miles an hour, if his belly or his back is facing the Earth. He prefers on his back. Imagine laying in bed at 120 miles an hour. You can see why he does this.
If he pitches his upper body down, he's now doing a swan dive at anywhere between 150 to 200 miles an hour.
He does this with parachutes that have been tested to have a 60 % rate of failure.
This is therapy.
This is therapy for people who don't get better with pills or talking.
He flies at the Earth with a 60 % chance of dying. At that probability, not even flipping a coin provides any comfort about how it's going to turn out.
Heads. Or tails.
Which end will hit the ground first?
And the whole fall his watch is tick-tocking, and no one knows how many tick-tocks it has left.
Except maybe the parachute.
Tick-tock. Tick-tock.
He says, this sixty percent dead man says to you, You know, I don't believe the Bible.
You tell him you've never thought him the Christian type anyway.
He smiles. No, he means, he doesn't think Eve was tricked into eating that apple.
He says, Maybe there was no talking snake. Maybe Adam and Eve just got bored.
Their infinite happiness was obviously pretty finite. A clock ticking down to the slow demise of mankind. Started with an apple.
Maybe being happy all the time got Adam and Eve depressed.
Tick-tock.
They didn't have planes back then.
Maybe Adam and Eve wanted something a little different. Shake shit up.
Tick-tock.
Parachutes were far from invented.
Maybe Adam and Eve didn't need to eat from the Tree of Knowledge to know that what they were going through was wrong.
Tick-tock.
Maybe they didn't need a talking snake to hear that the words spoken to them were lies.
Or maybe they just wanted to fuck things up so bad no one could ever fix them again.
Tick-tock. Tick-tock.
Literature
often times
curling vines are my fingers turning back
on themselves and creeping up the wall of my
bedroom to find cracks and escape to the unwavering light
that shines on the wall through your looking glass eyes full
of sky and falling diamonds that scatter with piano sounds
onto the knotted hardwood floor beneath my nervous feet
that leave shadows like mice and night time creatures which linger
in the corners of my house
you chase them from the fire place with
a flashlight to your wide-grin face and jeering angles of
light on dark on skin and bones that you swear will
be buried next to mine in the backyard under stones that
have our
Literature
dear.
d,
I miss the cigarette smoke, hanging in the air like thick curtains, making us coughhackchoke until we were weak.
I remember how youd hold me almost too close and tell me that you would never leave, that God himself couldnt force you away from me. I just grinned and blasted rock music, inviting the rhythm to jolt through our veins and put our pulse back on track.
beat. beat. beat.
the music couldnt save you the day God did come, when your hearts rhythm died and the throbbing in your chest slowed.
(knowing you, the admission into heaven wasnt exactly an easy one, but if there is a heaven, I know youd be the
Literature
falling time
to all the dreamers and all the thinkers:
you are a bunch of fools.
tomorrow crashdived into yesterday
and the world's going to die soon.
trust me, i was there once,
and your mouth is not
a good place to have your heart;
it's better left out on your long sleeve.
take a pinch of sky from your desk
and hold it for a while.
then blow it away, all you little
dreamers and thinkers.
__
to all you scientists and astronomers,
stop playing the stars like a harp.
stop harping on and on
because there's a new problem --
and all you little people, listen:
it's gaining on us fast.
so stop looking ahead
and start looking behind.
-- but
Suggested Collections
5/9/09 1:24 am
full title: "time doesn't fly, it falls"
I think my shorts lately have become more and more of character studies, interwoven with philosophy.
full title: "time doesn't fly, it falls"
I think my shorts lately have become more and more of character studies, interwoven with philosophy.
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