“Dude, I’m not coming up yet.”, “I’m not ready.”
Daisy was so frustrated. Why did he have to control her like that? Why was he in charge and not her? The green tag of her Champion jumper rubbed the back of her neck and she irritatedly scratched, like a black spider would trying to climb a slippery tent. From here on out, she was done being told what to do. “I am going to succeed, if it’s the last thing I’m capable of, dangit, I WILL!” She expired her smoke, while tiny violet pills leapt off her dress making their way down onto pillows marking the street. Today there were no jewels or yams protruding from the earth. Wait, what? Where…am…I? Daisy slapped her forehead feeling silly and stern. “I thought the map was taking me through that way…hmm…I am going to have to reconfigure.” She stuck her finger down her throat to feel the recess between her clavicle and sternum. The bump was still there, and it felt mightier than before. With a giant sigh of relief, Daisy whipped her hand out and quickly rubbed her brow of the pink and yellow sweat trickling downward toward the edge of her puffy orange UVC (never reaches the earth) slippers. The colours were debating with the sunset, arguing in agreeance with this theory: Can we reproduce smells using sight? If only I could see my thoughts, Chona thinks.
“Is it still not working yet or?”, “No.”
Okay, well then…let me think. I have zero capability of calculating the difference between time and space using true visuality AND I have thus far only found value in doing nothing. Everything was trying to pinpoint the exact ‘moment memory’ Chona experienced most frequently while driving. Today, June 24, 2019, she smelled/saw the winter time, the time around Halloween and a few other things. But they came and went so fast, she couldn’t ascertain every detail in time to truly discern the event. And, she most definitely could not determine how in the hell this was working and how she would even begin to explain it. Everything was creating. Everything was putting it together. Everything was adding it up.
Daisy’s mind went blank. She sat solemnly in the imitation art chair wearing a torn out neon pink giant Cotton Ginny t-shirt, and appropriate underwear of course. “To shower or not to shower, that is the key,” she thought. Her boss quipped, “To remember everyone! Cucumber! Coffee! And, no sex please!”
According to the Kama Sutra, a person with the principles of this science, who preserves his virtue, his Artha and his pleasure, will obtain the mastery of Each Other.
“Daisy, are you listening?”, “Yes.”
Seventeen always looked like that, predisposed to sleep, knowing she needed time for rest. Chona Fe yawns and gives up for a bit, then hands the paper over to Alice. She bites into it like a rabid snail, because snails are like tricky people. Alice goes back into hiding and the teen just shrugs again. The adventures have now begun, but where will they take us? Because in this moment, none of this makes sense, right? And, do you truly think it will be a thing? A real, true, regular, normal way of being? Chona thinks, “Probably yes. But, I dunno! I just have to try and will probably die doing it!”
Daisy was listening, darting her eyes toward the light. Alice puffed some letter s’s in the same general direction. Can we begin to read it now, the way to it should read?