Is it really 2:21AM???
Wow, if only I wasn't so fucking UP right now.
Should have went straight to bed instead of watching "Loser."
A movie about an intelligent guy named Paul getting the pretty girl.
How can I help but be jazzed????
Now all I have to do is get the pretty girl, and I can rest. (Just Kidding)
He'd heard once there was a substance in banana peels that was psychoactive, if you distilled it out of the peel properly Perhaps, he thought briefly, this particular banana was extraordinarily high in levels of that substance.
He wasn't trying to do anything, other than to peel a banana in the middle of traffic on Fifth Street. Traffic wasn't moving, he pulled out his banana, and...
Back to that in a second. It must be pointed out that Ted had never used any controlled substances. He was not the subject of nefarious brainwashing conspiracies. He hadn't been to a carnival in years, and he never much liked carnival hypnotists, let alone stared at a watch while getting very sleepy. Ted did not live on a toxic waste dump, and he was not secretly drugged by a high level government agency.
So there was very little explanation for why Ted and his car appeared to slip out of traffic quite suddenly and slip into a rock-strewn desert with snowcapped peaks in the distance. The song that was playing as he sat in traffic continued to play despite the fact that he now appeared to be nowhere near the point of transmission. He paused a moment to contemplate the incongruity when the song ended and another did not begin. Whatever starnge masters controlled his fate, thought Ted, did not tolerate loose ends anymore than he did, and must also hate to interrupt a good song.
Tired? not a bit.
Writing? silly but passable, for being three AM.
Next? bed, whether I like it or not...
He pulled out a cigarette, his sole vice, flicked his lighter, and set it alight. Drawing back hard, he couldn't seem to get smoke form the cigarette. He pulled it away from his lips and examined the business end. Glowing, small wisps of smoke emerging, he poked it with his pinky-ow- yes, hot too. But, drawing on it again, no smoke for Ted. Holding the cigarette at arms length and thinking harder than he'd thought in some time, Ted noticed something alarming. The smoke produced from the burning tip was trailing up, slowly, but then stopping, turning around, and drifting in slow spirals toward the ground. Perfect spirals, mathematic and beautiful...
It never fails to surprise me when I write something off the top of my head in five minutes time and it is recieved well...
Ted stared for a moment, then dropped the cigarette on the sand. Something about physics here was fucked. Royally fucked. Something glinted at the base of the mountains in the distance. Ted focused on the spot, and it glinted again. Taking another look at the cigarette, sitting there on the desert floor in a small pile of smoke, he got back in the car. He crossed his fingers and turned the key.
The engine turned over, then caught. Thank Dog internal combustion still works, thought Ted, as he put the car in gear and started slowly lurching over the scrub and rocks, avoiding the larger boulders the best he could.
Another day is almost over (for part 1, anyway).
Tomorrow, the power company is shutting off our building from about 7AM to 10AM, so I don't have to be in until 9 or 10, wooHoo!!
See you all later, I will probably post at least 1 more time tonight...