I for an I

I'm fulfilled by lethargy. I find potential to be the most exciting attribute of a human being. Like hamburgers are potentially beautiful. A work of art to animators, chefs, and literary monotony. The subtle and patriotic work of thousands of composers, painters, and word smiths are a classic culture of ideologies. And what they have given me is a potential to be nothing. To have nothing. And do nothing. And do nothing. And do nothing.

Hamburger. Hamburger. Hamburger.

I think another thing is beautiful. I forgot what it was. It was nothing.

Oh the ability to appreciate things might be a solely human attribute. That's interesting. What else fulfills me about people? Or why people should support my passion?

What am I passionate about? My passion is writing. My passion is stealing. My passion is stealing your passion and making run in a hamster wheel until I can extract the essence of beauty and turn it into liquid profit.

I like to think about traveling. I like traveling by myself and following people. I would get all the way to the parking garage and sip whatever was in hand watching their life unfold as they disappear into the sunset of my imagination.

I hope no one gets hurt. I hope they make it back safe.

I hope I don't open the morning paper and see a horrible accident on the overpass surrounding the scene with caution tape because the investigators cannot be interrupted by my magical attitude.

I would hold up signs and scream whatever people are screaming at the time and then I would sit and literally feel accomplished. I would scream and then sit.

I like music. I feel like people would know that about me. Sometimes, I tell people I don't like music. And they're like, what are you, a sociopath?

And I'm like, no, I'm a writer. Do you want to read some of my screen plays? And people are like no.

And so I follow them. Their likes, their favorite this or that, where they eat, what they're doing. Until they get in their car and drive away into the sunset of my imagination..

And then I put them in my screen plays.

Maybe that's too scary.

Maybe using fictional people in hypothetical scenarios requires the disclaimer of a comedian where I'm joking and it's just a bit help the audience suspend their inarticulate judgement, so I can tell my masterpiece.

Maybe I’m “playing by the rules” and “using air quotes” to lull my readers into a false sense of security.

Maybe if I’m a writer, people get to read what I write. And I let them, instead of not letting them. And I would build them a room with only them inside it, but their thoughts are my thoughts. Their heartbeat is as fast as I want. And all the white walls are sounded by nothingness.

I wouldn’t be “taking down the man” with “anti-censorship propaganda”. I’d merely add a shadow in the white box that asks for loose change and smiles with limitless confusion.

Then it’s over.

Or I thought it was over but there’s definitely eighty-six more words that are completely in-step but possibly out of sync. I’d ask Keanu Reeves to star in a graphic novel I wrote. And then we’d do an interview with Joe Rogan where I cry about the banalities of a normal life.

And it’d be like the 2nd time that happened but impossibly fresh for the proto-libertarian ring leader and Joe. I would be there too.

I would do a somersault. And Keanu would jump kick a speed bag off the table. After 2 hours we would listen to Joe go into a rage, a spitting rage, leaving the newly formed friendship to be continued and giving something for me to talk about.