Sartre’s Unchecked Agression
The chicken who’s missing one feather. The colonel who penned his masterpiece. The slave with the salve. The titans battle within.
I saw the thick barrelled tip, I peered slowly over the ink. “Where are you?”, her voice ballooned. “I’m in the crack chamber with only this sticky residue and some weird opaque clarity, plenty of blue. It’s kinda good.” I was loyal. “I cant see you that well, but I’m pretty sure you’re not lying to me at this point, are you you?.” The point!? Youre at the point, I’m in the back. It’s breaking…! “No, I’m in the far end of the sauce though if you wanna come get me.” Oh, ok. Um, I haven’t been able to decide how to get up there, plus I’m scared of that part. “Do you really want me or do you want me on paper?” There was no pain in her voice. Haha, I told her she was always the sensible type, quick with a bad pun, but I loved her. But now you’re cursive. I curse you!, I called out jealously with hidden tone as I bounded from the ink’s cusp and back to the stopper. “Playful,” she laughed at me sliding out arms raised, “Good luck with your airtight lesson and your impersonations, see you in the stacks.” OK, sweety, I’ll miss you, I’m sorry I wouldn’t save you. And she was gone. Ehh, at least I’m not in the ink, damn I’m gunna miss her though. Ahh, remember that girl who lived with me at the butt end. We really had some times. What’s that voice?
Box of ten, package of twenty, carton of 24, factory of thousands, thousands of factories. One letter, one word, one page, one book, one shelf, one library, one branch, one system, one… Uy, I’ll never find her…
Ink is alive. Print is dead. Our battles are purgatory.
Lesson learned wish me luck. Ive heard that somewhere.
*Yawn* “That’s it for me today, I’m going to sleep.” Who said that.
I spoke in my sleep: “Two planets love for each other is insignificant.”
A near voice responded with pristine sonics, “That’s not an unbiased view.”
Double negative. There were smudges on my hand.
Thursday, April 30, 2009
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