Hello Anonymous… [what i wrote on the typewriter at http://writer.bighugelabs.com/ one night…]

Hello Anonymous,

Today I wanted to speak to you through a different medium, a different formula. You understand don’t you? Before I woke up today, my smallest toe on the left or the right foot – I don’t remember – decided to depart from the bigger picture and smell the roses on its own. This came as a surprise to me. I have never before had to discipline a martyr; never mind a dissenter. Martyrdom. Pregnant with ideas about what I was going to do to this microcosm of a problematic, I dispatched mother apathetic to cleanse its soul and extort, ever so preemptively, any future references to how the dinosaurs laughed before… you know… the BIG BIG BIG meteor surprised the unsuspecting. Coy.

So let’s feel the vibe. Slightly ever so imperfect, who are these canaries anyway? Joe the machinist surreptitiously invited me to his wife’s pre-birth celebration. I am lost and beyond confused. Why must I acquiesce to impossibilities of this nature? Either way, I’m going to bake her a dozen or so drama cookies and just post-date their arrival until I feel like it. Who needs a social anthropologist to apologize – I can do it on my own, regardless of the consequences.

Now the fire that broke out at 4 past 3 today was definitely intense. My God was it ever bright. By the time the fire parade came to diffuse the time-seeking heat bomb, I was on my way out the door, jacket in hand, preparing for the worst. On my way to the bus stop, I came upon a simple mind who needed directions to the avant-ridiculous procession that had gathered to observe authority defeat the monsters in their heads. Shame, really. I told him that I had no sense of direction and that he should probably pursue other more obvious alternatives. Definitely need to get a Dictionary and figure out how this City works. The bus finally came and I got on it. Once Inside, a grave disorder appeared to have taken over those commuters who had felt it necessary to increase their volume for no apparent reason. It was nothing – a man had forgotten his sister’s birthday. Either way, I listened until my stop and got off. At the lights I made a left and walked until I reached some sort of neo-post-modern contraption. By this time, it started raining. Not having brought along my prophylactic, I got wet. It wasn’t long before it stopped. A man yelled across the street and his intention was to get my attention. I turned my head around, like a conditioned citizen and focused in on this creature of agitation. It was him, the man who called me the day before to ask for my assistance with some sort of out-of-context historical reference. I waved and crossed the street.

Before I reached this predetermined destination, a further distraction appeared to have led me along a different path. Perhaps this time, or at the very least for the time being, temporariness was to provide me with more benefits than otherwise. Incredibly…

[TO BE CONTINUED???]

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1 Comment

Filed under abstract, life

One response to “Hello Anonymous… [what i wrote on the typewriter at http://writer.bighugelabs.com/ one night…]

  1. Anonymous

    vlad you have a gift to take the obvious, deconstruct it into several parallels, toy with objectivity, and then continue subjectively.

    frankly i think it’s a gift, though confused i am, but interested by that which i have yet to understand.

    i think it’s best summarized by something i saw you write the other day, i think it said ‘watch out puddle or that car will hit you’, or something to that order. that sentence there summarizes your writing style. keep it going.

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