Kaptain's Blog

The writings and musings of The Kaptain

Tuesday, July 12, 2011


Things happened in microsecond chunks. A cockroach weighing a metric ton – the heaviest in recorded history – went unhurriedly about its business, entering his right ear to re-emerge from his mouth with equal disinterest. He felt its legs tickle his tongue. Startled, it then scratched a path back to some unseen crevice singing “Glory, glory Tottenham Hotspur” as it went, antennae twitching. Silently he screamed some words he didn’t recognise. Nat “King” Cole obligingly went about soothing him with the very thought of you. I see your face in every flower. Interrupting, the Secretary Of State said “God Bless America”. He rubbed a hand across his whiskers. His late mother waved at him ruefully. He narrowly avoided treading on a baby cricket. He needn’t have worried: an army of ants descended upon it, carving it up. Breakfast for the Queen. Weakling. Out of nowhere a wealthy Californian suddenly declared its presidential candidacy. His shoulders shook with laughter, involuntarily. The ground rushed up to greet him, ever faster, while the rest of humanity, in contrast, spiralled down. Once more he was forced to recorrect the spellchecker on his computer. Spiraled was only a word to five percent of the planet’s population. He was parched. Clack clack clack. Some tiny crustaceans crawled through his chest hairs, biting and nipping. Unrelated, he thought of Ian Curtis. Of “Isolation”. An arm flew out to the left. No one there. He rolled to the right and felt around for the bottle he knew, instinctively, sat waiting. Somewhere. Somewhere. SOMEFUCKINGWHERE.
Back again, stalking, the electrified fences of dawn.
Fuck off and die.
Fuck off and die.
Fuck off and die.
An axblade spliced his crown.

posted by Kirk at 1:52 am  

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