Lunatic
I went to the park yesterday and sat on a bench beneath some trees. The day was not marvelous. I rolled a cigarette and watched dogs chase balls and thought about reading a book when a man approached me. His hair was curly and brown and vaguely thinning, and he wore a brown t-shirt with a deep cut v-neck that revealed a bushy patch of chest hair. He had on jean shorts and combat boots too. The total package. I scooted over by instinct and he sat down next to me. His teeth were white and he smelled faintly of patchouli. I said hello and this is what he said, apropos of nothing, to me.
Nature is a pleasant enough place, aside from the heat and the flooding, the biting insects and extreme cold. There is a profound discomfort in being in nature, in fact. I love it, but I also hate it, because when I am in nature I see only death and violence. It is a reflection of our basest desires. [spitting] The grass grows brown, animals die and are consumed. The rest is left to rot and become fertilizer for the next generation. I wake up in the morning and hear the birds chirping and it is not music to my ears. It is the sound of misery and suffering. We plant seeds of plastic into the earth. The trees that will bloom in one hundred thousand years will be mauvaciously tangerine. Flesh is merely living strips of leather. I am hopeful for the future even though I won’t live to see it. Atlantis is not an ancient city, but an ancient prophesy. Our ancestors, the fishmen will someday unite in revolution and won’t that be a sight to see?
He elbowed me in the ribs a few times, bobbling his head like a lunatic. I’d been surreptitiously recording him with my phone for a live stream. He then smiled and asked if I wanted to smoke a joint. I couldn’t help but agree.
