Monday, November 14, 2011

My Manifesto with Pesto Volume I

(I wrote this in 2007.  And I found it today. I don't remember if I meant it to be 1 piece of work, or broken up.  Regardless, here it is....in all it's weirdness.)

>

I sit on the edge of reason.

Threatening to commit treason.

Maybe not this time of the season.

I just gotta be who I be, man.


>


Looked over my shoulder yesterday and my shadow was napping. Can you believe it? My life is so boring that my shadow naps. I tried to wake it up, when I realized it was dead. You could just make out the silhouette of a tongue sticking out of shadow lips. Although details were unclear I be live there was even X' over the eyes. I am not sure why my shadow died like a cartoon character, but it did. Next to my shadow was a shadow of what looked like an anvil, an Acme anvil, but that's another story.
>


I pulled the plug. That's right, I did it. Grabbed it and yanked it right out of the wall. I'm not ashamed. The triple pronged beast has no chance against my brute force. Snap, and it's done. It was one of my greatest feats. It rivals Hercules, I think.

>


I call to you, my people! Shed you disguises and rise! Remove your cloaks of injustice. Break from the spinning cycles of normality. Join me! Show the powers that be, that the power of me will conquer all. Together we can board the ships of our fathers and sail the seas of righteousness. If seasickness is an issue then step off the gang plank! We are packed to the gills with morals and hope. We will rise up and strike down those that inflict their terror upon us. Together as one moving, breathing, living, thinking beast! We will wrap our thoughts around the mighty giant like vines from the forest! We will trip their progress and pounce like starving pumas! We will stand, you and I, atop the wrath we inflict. We will raise our claws in victory and recite the words deep in our hearts. For together, we can accomplish anything. Together we can succeed. Together we can live, forever!

>

This little light of mine....went out.

>

Send them my best. Better yet send them my worst. Send them my judgement passing, nicotine feigning, pretentious thought having, overbearing, anxiety riddled worst.

>

So, I got scared. "So what?" You say? What, you've been scared too? Of course you have we all have. But I was really scared. Not like monster in the closet scared. Not like vampires on my neck scared. Not like axe wielding hockey mask wearing scared. Not like ch ch ch huh huh huh scared. Not Vincent Price scared. Not Jacko in a day care scared. Not Amy Winehouse in a bar scared. Not Sizemore as a chaperon scared. But I mean scared. Scared, scared. Not like your DVR erased scared. Not like you Ipod crashed scared. Not like like a lump on your hoo-hoo scared. But scared. Not like too many black olives scared. Not like Bozo with a butterfly knife scared. Not like God scared. But scared, scary scared. Not paper cut scared. Not heights scared. Not Mandy Moore scared. Not razor blade scared. Not addiction scared. But scared, you know?

>

Promise, you will read this at my funeral. Swear to it, here and now!


Along with this include my measurements, height and weight included. (Just so the truth is finally out.) After I am dead, break into my house and in the back bedroom, behind the golf clubs, under the Physician's Desk reference, there is a box. Break into that box and remove my leather bound journal. At my funeral read pages 85 through 88. The whole time stare at my Uncle. He'll understand. Next, I''l need to do 2 more things. One: In my sock drawer there is a false bottom. (I know cool right?) Anyway, there you will find a piece of rolled up parchment paper with a faded red ribbon tied. Take this to the closest body of water (use google maps) and drop it in. Don't read it, just toss it in. It seems crazy, but it is a must. Our family has done it for years.


Two: On myey computer click My Documents and search for file labeled: "Deathy Death " Open the file and read the entire file. ( To yourself, and bring some provisions, it will take you awhile.) After you have read it, print it out, all of it. Then with each piece paper fold it up into a paper airplane and have someone throw them at the congregation during my funeral service. All except pages 5 and 6. Those are yours. (You'll understand) Thank you, and I'll see you in Jamaica aka The Afterlife.

P.S.


In the closet the box marked "Kitchen Stuff" burn it, please. How embarrassing if I forget that part.

>

No comments: