who is that boy peering at me from behind the door?
I see his face—jubilant and wide-eyed—but he is not me.
an avatar of beauty and potential, Captain Planet and Atticus Finch.
where did he go?
will he return?
God, I wish he would, or if not send me back to that time so I can hold on to him for dear life, tell him not to let go.
this melancholic flesh has crossed many a sea, so I ask again, when will he be me?
Friday, August 7, 2009
Wednesday, July 15, 2009
tanks for the memories
So I work at the memory banks here in downtown Madison, just off State Street. Every city has one of these now, you know, where you buy the memory you want, they plug it into you, your brain makes the connections, all that. You've had a few of them, most everyone has, right? Okay, so anyway, this lady I work with, Melissa, she had the weirdest thing happen.
Okay, this guy comes in, right? He asks for a memory. Melissa is like, "Okay, who is it for?"
The guy says, "It's for my wife. I'd like something romantic. It's our anniversary."
So Melissa is like, "Okay, I'll see what we have."
She goes into the back to look at the memory tanks. Now, you've probably gotten a memory or two, but you know how they do it, right? They have this chemical that affects your brain, and we have a few different emotions, and we apply how much pressure and at a certain length, and it creates all the memories. Don't ask me how it works, but it does.
So Melissa is looking, right, to see how much we have in the tanks because it's Monday and we don't get the new tanks until Tuesday. The guy sneaks up behind her, apparently, and smacks her over the back of the head. Next thing you know, he's hooked up every single kind of tank to her on full blast. This guy was a total pro, apparently, because he didn't kill her, which can happen. He shuts them all off and leaves her.
She woke up four minutes later with the most crazy memory. She was sitting at home watching a really dumb TV show, when all of a sudden this giant robot blasts a hole in her apartment. She runs to a gun rack (don't ask me how it got there) and starts unloading shotgun shells into it, but nothing's working until some big, muscled guy jumps down through the roof and starts fighting the thing hand-to-hand, I kid you not.
So, anyway, the robot is just about to win, and Melissa is really worried, and the robot tears off his shirt, and then she musters herself, leaps on top of the robot with the shotgun and blows a hole in the top of its head, and then the muscle guy punches the thing and knocks it out the apartment. Then they screwed for like six hours. She's got a bunch more like that, I guess.
Yeah, so anyway, she got fired, I guess, because you can't use the tanks for personal use, and they didn't catch any of it on the cameras, or the nanotape. I still hang out with her every once in a while. She's a little different now, but she's a hell of a lot more interesting at parties.
Okay, this guy comes in, right? He asks for a memory. Melissa is like, "Okay, who is it for?"
The guy says, "It's for my wife. I'd like something romantic. It's our anniversary."
So Melissa is like, "Okay, I'll see what we have."
She goes into the back to look at the memory tanks. Now, you've probably gotten a memory or two, but you know how they do it, right? They have this chemical that affects your brain, and we have a few different emotions, and we apply how much pressure and at a certain length, and it creates all the memories. Don't ask me how it works, but it does.
So Melissa is looking, right, to see how much we have in the tanks because it's Monday and we don't get the new tanks until Tuesday. The guy sneaks up behind her, apparently, and smacks her over the back of the head. Next thing you know, he's hooked up every single kind of tank to her on full blast. This guy was a total pro, apparently, because he didn't kill her, which can happen. He shuts them all off and leaves her.
She woke up four minutes later with the most crazy memory. She was sitting at home watching a really dumb TV show, when all of a sudden this giant robot blasts a hole in her apartment. She runs to a gun rack (don't ask me how it got there) and starts unloading shotgun shells into it, but nothing's working until some big, muscled guy jumps down through the roof and starts fighting the thing hand-to-hand, I kid you not.
So, anyway, the robot is just about to win, and Melissa is really worried, and the robot tears off his shirt, and then she musters herself, leaps on top of the robot with the shotgun and blows a hole in the top of its head, and then the muscle guy punches the thing and knocks it out the apartment. Then they screwed for like six hours. She's got a bunch more like that, I guess.
Yeah, so anyway, she got fired, I guess, because you can't use the tanks for personal use, and they didn't catch any of it on the cameras, or the nanotape. I still hang out with her every once in a while. She's a little different now, but she's a hell of a lot more interesting at parties.
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