Friday, January 24, 2014

RUN, slowly

My fear pertaining to sleep is dreaming about my friends encouraging me to be in a turkey farm, reassuring that things will be alright, then being attacked by the said malicious fucking turkeys. I'd wake up shaking and sweatig, clenching my teeth cold.

My primary fear pertaining to waking up is pissing all over myself and also having to pretend to be alive that day. My secondary fear is not being in my own bed and also failing to fake it enough through the day.

A turkey can run on an average of 25 mph. An average human averages on 10 mph. 6 mph if distance/endurance is expected. I average one crawl per mile. The fucking things could eat me alive. Imagine being chased by a turkey. Occasionally, I imagine being chased by a turkey, and I'm typically snacking on a turkey leg (specifically from Disneyland) while taunting the fucking thing. But that's probably on a good day. Most days I drown in my own imaginary and inane irrational fears.

Maybe my fear of turkeys is the best exemplary metaphor to describe my being's relationship with existing. My person vs my life. I always just have to take this fucking turn. I don't know. I can't get this shit out of my head.

ARCHIVE, FUCKERS (for Ace-like purposes)