I may not be rich in monetary terms, but I am rich in life. The secret to being rich in life is to collect a lot of it early on, then hold onto it so it accumulates interest. The best way to do this is to keep those from whom you are stealing the life alive and display them in a public place. I’ve found this generates a great deal of interest while at the same time dissuading enemies from attacking your mountain keep.
Tag Archives: life
Doppelgänger
I spend my time searching the world for my doppelgänger. Because I believe that out there, somewhere, is my exact likeness. So one day, when I find him, I can train him to be my stunt double. Imagine the pranks I could pull. Walking with friends, I duck behind a bush only to leap out in front of a car. Wham! Never fear, I am fine. The looks on their faces. Priceless. Ever wanted to be in two places at once? I could do it. There I am, playing video games, but behold, I’m also at work completing all my tasks while juggling razor sharp snake venom machetes. Oh yes, meetings would be a breeze with my doppelgänger on hand to casually leap through a window on command. I wouldn’t even need to line up to get my license photo taken. And then, when the time is right, my doppelgänger stunt double will leap into action, only the car doesn’t stop, or I don’t arrange for the mattress to be placed just so, and my doppelgänger will be no more. I have just faked my own death. Which means that now, I am free. I can assume the identity of my doppelgänger. That guy’s awesome. I don’t want to be me. My life sucks. I spend all my time searching the world for my doppelgänger.
Office party
Suits and umbrellas
Managerial fellas
And strife when the toner is low.
When transport runs late
And the client’s irate
‘Cause the last data entry was slow.
There’s a note on the kettle
Constructed from nettle
Though in language so friendly and sweet.
While the boss is away
The hierarchy’s at play
Weaker players end up on the street.
Did I hit ‘reply all’?
Should I send it again?
Is the deadline for that pile next week?
The staples have vanished
And you’re feeling famished
The phone rings but you don’t want to speak.
We remain in our chairs
Unaware that our cares
Are a speck as the whole world walks by.
But here we refrain
Unperturbed by the rain
Out of fear our bank balance runs dry.
Imagination is dead
Don’t you hate it when you see something go by, perhaps through the window of a tram, and think “that would make a great picture with a caption to put on my website thing” – but too late. The thing has long since rattled away while I, er, you fumble with your phone. It’s out of memory again and needs to be reset. Oh for those future days when we all have digital cameras embedded in our foreheads and privacy and memory and imagination are but faded memories, slowly yellowing in the corner like an abandoned Polaroid from 1984.
So it is with a heavy heart that I ask you now to forget that shared golden dystopian destiny and dwell with me a moment in the mere present and -:imagine:-. (Or at least until I can be bothered walking back down the road to take a photo or learn to draw.) Imagine a small cafe, facing the street with cars and trams bustling by. In the window, bright red signage: “Milkshakes! Milkshakes! Milkshakes!” Next to it, also stuck to the out-facing window, an A4 piece of paper with the words printed in plain black ink: “Help wanted. Enquire within.” Now, if you are not too exhausted, imagine all this captured in a well-framed and focused photograph, badly photo-edited (I don’t own Photoshop) with the following emblazoned across the foot of the picture: “Milkshakes fail to bring boys to yard.”
That almost happened.
But that’s not all. Just hours earlier I was looking out at the cityscape and something caught my eye. An enthusiastic graffiti artist had scaled a building in the CBD and written (no doubt suspended upside down, dramatically, clutching the roof in one hand, white spray can in the other) “HOAX”. Now I must ask you to again imagine this (as my camera focused on the smudges on the glass in front of me, rather than my target) – along with the caption: “Unreal Graffiti”.
Yesterday my camera phone failed me. Today I attempt to repair the damage that was never done by hinting at some imaginings that will never yellow.
They just disappear.
Especially after we all have cameras in our foreheads.
C.T. Curio 