THE FRONT OF BEYOND
It’s where the back used to be.
Then something changed.
Perceptions.
Status.
The climate.
The economy.
Now, the hermit in the sticks leads the city dweller’s hand into the future.
Pop by.
It’s where at’s at.
A CHATERISM (# 74,921)
I
am
one
hell
fired
mother
fucking
narrator
slouching
sleepwards
desperately
attempting
countdown
slovenly
because
ending
makes
time
eat
up
I
BABYLON TEETH
I found this scribbled in my notebook the other day but i have no idea where it came from. If you’re from the area or the era, please fill me in.
“If you go to Babylon and kiss someone there,
just count your teeth afterwards”
HOURS, MINUTES, SECONDS, THISNESS
People often ask, what’s thisness mean?
If I said haecceity, you’d put a foot through this screen. Nobody says haecceity.
If I said it’s the denomination of time after seconds, you might stop for a ‘thisness’ and say ‘tell me more’. Of course, I’d be making it up on the spot and you’d know that but being a nice person you’d toy with my psyche and say ‘carry on, really, I’m interested’. I’d then blush and carry on having lost my way a little, but my sunny disposition would say ‘stop processing and start explaining this micro-division of time you twat’. So I would. I would count. I would count so fast you’d not keep up. I would count so fast i would pass out. You’d feel responsible as you’re a nice person and I’d come to then we’d go at it again. This time you’d count with me and we’d both slip into that space where thisness lives. The one where we’re out for the count – god I hate double meanings, especially when they creep up on you like that one just did. Still, we’d be breathing heavily, coming round, like boxers recovering from an upper cut. Thisness would then be thatness. You’d be long gone and I’d be wondering how it is I still fail to hold a conversation. Sure, I can spill one, or burn one. You try holding a conversation, whilst it’s moving at 100,000 per thisness.
CAREFULLY WORDED STATEMENT (# 74,922)
“Good work and thanks for help with my college assignment.”
If, one day, you come across the phrase above, be cynical. Imagine this student on his/er knees is in fact some coded hacker pushing porn your way, and depending on the stimulation of your day, open the enclosure and forever curse your curiosity as the 8 inch butt plug special offers stack up.
Or believe in the inherent goodness of people and the innocence of a foreign language crammer in genuine appreciation of your latest post.