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Cool (as a person): laughs at everything, believes in nothing. Always sarcastic.
posted by Yasmean at 1:22 am
Friday, December 01, 2006
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I overstate what I don't mean - understate what I do.
posted by Yasmean at 1:22 am
4 Comments:
I never laugh, I have deep faith, and there's more of us than you.
If I sit at my desk with my head in my hands, it is because the moment I entered the office a thousand pygmy typewriters began to clatter right and left, hurling incongruous phrases into the ever shrinking field of my attention...
if a few drops of brandy make my nerves pulsate as an electric current awakens a dusty old television set to life, my benumbed brain starts crackling and, liberated from the insufferable hammering, engenders images that, at first diffuse, then organized, parade across my hesitant retina...
if nobody says anything; if the telephone keeps quiet, the radiator doesn't hiss, the loudspeaker doesn't bark, the door of the elevator doesn't clatter every minute, and diarrheal pigeons are not scratching at my windowsill; if the worn-down shoes of uncertain, nosy people are not shuffling past my window...
if from my memory that is becoming more and more like a junk pile I expel table-pounding ministers of war, official spokesmen who communicate nothing, mass murderers dozing in bulletproof docks, double agents exchanged on the q.t., newly spawned popular dictators who string up their friends, cannibalistic monarchs by divine right, the season's celebrities whose electronic smile invades every room, who unveil statues, taste the new wine, inaugurate highways, inspect guards of honor, kiss babies, send telegrams of congratulation, and present medals and gold watches...
if my wife and I have gone for our usual quiet walk on the hillside the night before; if the rent, electric, and telephone bills have been paid and there's still enough money for milk, meat, fruit, coffee, tobacco and wine...
if after a good night's sleep, propelled to the washbasin by the exploding alarm, I have successfully completed the befuddled ritual of getting up; if with the aroma of fresh coffee in my head I have managed, on taking the bus, to find a seat by the window and collect my thoughts amid overcoats smelling of tobacco, rain, dishwater, and dry toast...
...then, even then, this day will be still pretty much the same as every other day.
All You need is love.
Come on, sing it with me.
Fine. Piss off then.
Cool Person: likes to laugh, has a belief made of steel (or carbon fiber - nothing is unbreakable, you can surf with it), never honest and sincere at the same time (but tries hard...). Respect, Eht Refrus.
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