Perhaps the man was dead or perhaps he was having an out of body experience. Either way, his current reality was not consistent with his previous one. Floating through a park, as the man was doing, would not be considered to be a reality. He saw people pass beneath him, not noticing him. The people looked funny. They shone as if illuminated from the inside, with dark specks, like the dust settled in light bulbs, darkening their brain, stomach, or heart. Wind tickled the leaves on the trees. They were oak and wise.
The man floated by an apartment complex. The complex was sandstone. It was ivory, strong, and, ancient only in the American sense, a prehistoric monolith. On the third floor sat a blogger. He had a sensitive face, Ephesian in characteristic, and big eyes. He wore a properly trimmed 5 o’clock shadow that he thought made him look distinguished. His mother said it made him look like a lousy crook.
He was at his computer, working the blogga’s grind. Press releases from companies poured in. Though he had something more important to post on his website. He had been previously been occupied with pontificating existential ideas to his followers on tumblr. They were a shallow and uncreative bunch: always biting trends ‘n shit and emulating others. He demanded that they pave their own way, otherwise they couldn’t be individuals and society wouldn’t be progressive; it would be boring and stagnant.
Something new tickled the blogger’s fancy. At a recent get-together, a person with a camera lens bigger than his brain had taken his picture.
He was wearing expensive things.
It was fucking great.
He posted the picture to his blog. He had notes in seconds. “sooo coooll” and “where can i get that coat”.
God, it was awesome. He was getting there. Getting to be a godhead.
The floating man floated on, right past the apartment. Wind tickled the leaves on the trees. There was a time not long ago that the wind through the trees was Zeus bestowing his wisdom. Funny, Zeus had loads of kids and never had a blog. That’s not a character you would want to emulate. Now that wind was known as just wind. It didn’t care. It wasn’t an idol. It carried the floating man onward, hopefully to brighter futures.
Maybe a place where people shone like lightbulbs, without the settled dust.
Tuesday, March 6, 2012
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