This morning, as I had my pretentious coffee,
I rifled through a pretentious magazine,
That came with the unpretentious papers.
Saw an advert for a store selling armchairs,
Their tagline was “Inspired by a dream”;
Amused, I wondered what furniture I’d churn,
If it were to be inspired by my latest dream,
A double homicide, a slasher on the lose,
With the knife dripping fresh blood,
Being chased by hungry hungry hippos.
Freud and Neitzsche, can you hear me?
Why do I always have red on my mind?
Yoga and Capoeira, Pilates and Jogging,
In Under Armour and no underpants,
Nothing brings more peace and joy,
Like dreaming of steel knife in windpipes.
I asked my daughter,
What dya want to be,
When you are a big girl?
Her answer made me
Want to dig my own grave,
On a stolen plot somewhere,
And jump in, without a tank
Of Oxygen or Oxycodone.
What an oxymoron!
I didn’t even want the grave marked,
For she said she wants to be a “socialite”.
“I am God”, said an asswipe.
Blew his horns, sounded from a pipe.
All you bloody did was see a shrink,
Who helped you get outside of hell’s brink.
Like a Jungle-man beating his chest,
You proclaim that you are the best.
You can walk on water,
Do things like in the gutter.
Make wine out of pee-pee,
Glamorous gold shit-shit.
Fucking whores on a schoolnight,
I’mma choke your windpipe.
Don’t mess with me, dickhead,
Might light fire to your fucking bed.
Brazilian blow-out, bitch
45 minutes, to stomp you.
You and your cheap trash.
You got fucked, with your hymen intact.
Haha, so much for your party-planning.
Rained on your parade, did I?
I didn’t mean to, I just did my.
You’re a result of a bus collision,
You should be bludgeoned,
During an intervention.
The devil came to strike a deal,
Saw your soul and said no, thank you.
You ain’t going anywhere, losers,
You won’t even get new dentures.
That one is tapped out, burnt and drunk,
Find yourself a pimp and get on a bunk.
Mediocre pleasuring, that’s your style.
After two shots, you can’t go a mile.
Looked up your symptoms on WebMD,
Looks like you think too much of thee.
You got absolutely nothing on me, bitch!
Except that I am a wizard and you a witch.
If it were 1500s, they’d burn you brown,
You’d look shitty, even with your crown.
Gold-digging bitch, you didn’t dig very far,
Nobody’d give you a dime, even in hoe bazaar.
Slutty smouldering eyes, with lungs to match,
A starving hyena and leech won’t find you a catch.
Dunno where I am going with this, this infernal diss,
When you fuck a lemon-seller, you’d get strabismus.
My gut falls,
I see U.
Fuck this summer.
I ain’t getting out of here,
Unless I am in a box,
You feel empty,
You were unhappy,
You selfish prick,
You had to fill the hole,
With my shattered soul?
You had to make yourself happy,
By making me feel crappy?
As a skunk.
Want to smash skulls?
Yours or hers?
Someone’s gotta go.
I sure as hell wish it was me,
Cuz I set a nanny cam,
Near the altar,
To see who sheds a tear.
Uppers and downers,
Calmers and sleepers,
All gone from the cabinet,
No herbs, no chemicals,
One day rolled into another,
And another, blanketed by fog.
Tears have run dry,
There is no home.
Heartache and heart attack,
Can’t tell the difference.
Pain runs through the veins,
Blood dries through the rains.
Only wish, someone takes the knee,
When the last breathe dies.
Perfectly manicured hands,
Gnawed at and chewed on,
Anger and frustration,
And make me sneer.
Six in the evening,
Mum’s getting high,
Dad’s at “work”,
A five year old,
Pieces Legos to make a tractor.
Yogurt for lunch,
Frozen pizza for dinner;
Universe, is that your way
Of telling the child,
That grown-ups are fucked?
This morning, unlike any other morning, I found myself stuck in a bumper-to-bumper traffic jelly; not a jam, a traffic jelly. I don’t get out much, what with the NOx and the general laziness and the outside not having much to offer, so when I do get out, I get very anxious. Accompanied by a 4 year-old who already has political views, I set out for the journey, equipped with all the gear a mom needs; Hot Wheels, juice boxes, snack boxes, snot-rags, and a teddy bear that the 4 year-old has adopted as his son. He is already proving to be a better parent than me, giving the teddy bear fresh fruit instead of boxed juices and making him a “pretend” hot home-cooked meal and brushing his “pretend” teeth, twice a day. And he reads to him too, from a book; Unlike me, I just make up stories.
So, back to the traffic. I saw most people in agony. There was honking and arm-waving and finger blowing and name calling and a lot of F-bombs dropping. I sat back and enjoyed the traffic jelly. It was fun to watch, everyone was late for work, everyone wanted to get there faster than the others, and nobody looked like they actually wanted to get to work. What were they all trying to get to? Once everyone is at work, don’t they just keep checking the time to see if it’s 5 PM yet? I know I did that and a lot of people I worked with did that. So I am going out on a limb here and say that everyone does that. Those who don’t, either work from home or actually like what they do. (Hahaha.. like there’s any money in that!)
While I was feeding one of my OCD habit of reading the license plates of every car in my line-of-sight, I noticed those poor environmentalists, who were pedalling along on their bikes, helmet and knee-pads and biking shorts and the whole ensemble. Saving the environment, working out at the same time – good on them! I couldn’t help thinking how much impact their efforts would have in the long run. For every bike, there must have been twenty cars or more. That environmentalist was breathing in pure ob-NOx-ious fumes. Not to mention, those bikes look so fragile, a monstrosity of a car can knock them down by just being around. The green warriors are trying so hard, one plastic bag at a time, and most of us do nothing. I mean, we are even killing WHALES! And those mammals are huge, and yet we found a way to destroy them. People destroy everything. (And my rants start now…) Even my 4 year-old said, “Just look at this country!” He does not understand country and state and continent and division as such, he just picked it up from his father, but he was spot on with the timing. He, in fact, pacifies his raging father when the latter is driving and yelling, “These idiots need to learn how to drive!” by chiming in, “Please Daddy, the idiots also need to get home.” Some kick-ass parenting, huh?
So, to sum it up, I lost my train of thoughts now, and the sparks of brilliance that had illuminated my mind back in the traffic, are gone. So I leave you with this:
Viewing the non-geek world through geek lenses. And sometimes vice versa.
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