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I was on last and some of my friends started chanting my name, so it got kinda wacky. I was pumping my fist, pounding my chest and screaming into the mic a bit. Because I do that when people pay attention to me.Pretty soon the crickets will drown everything in their din,
the constant flicking of their wings tied to the temperature
designed to deafen the ears and inflame the mind,
leads to rage and violence in the kids who begin to riot,
dropping rocks on passersby,
animals gain significant increases in aggression
due to a hormonal response to superaudial frequencies,
adult humans begin to attack one another
while powerful nations arm themselves with
nuclear weapons and target urban areas.
The crickets know exactly what they are doing.
Sounds like you'd make a dynamic dictator/rebellion leader.DonRetrasado wrote:Did an open mic this week! I had to convince the host to add an extra slot for me since it was full but we used to work together so she was willing to help me out. I did an updated version of an old poem:
I was on last and some of my friends started chanting my name, so it got kinda wacky. I was pumping my fist, pounding my chest and screaming into the mic a bit. Because I do that when people pay attention to me.Pretty soon the crickets will drown everything in their din,
the constant flicking of their wings tied to the temperature
designed to deafen the ears and inflame the mind,
leads to rage and violence in the kids who begin to riot,
dropping rocks on passersby,
animals gain significant increases in aggression
due to a hormonal response to superaudial frequencies,
adult humans begin to attack one another
while powerful nations arm themselves with
nuclear weapons and target urban areas.
The crickets know exactly what they are doing.
Taken entirely from this interview. There's another piece I'm writing from the same interview but it's not finished yet. The line breaks aren't exactly where I like but I messed them up so that I could print it, and can't remember where they were before. Maybe I'll fix it up later.I love that you hear things about "The Children."
The children are literally living out
"Lord of the Flies," people.
We always find it hilarious when we read things
like,
"Such and such fell over dead from exhaustion."
Exhausted from what?
I've worked WAY worse jobs than this.
What the hell are you talking about?
I think Matthew Perry and the Olsen twins
lead very "exhausting" lives, too.
Last week I videotaped kids sitting out in front
drinking Robitussin®.
It was great. They were all out there -- cherry-colored faces,
chugging bottles of Robitussin®.
That'd be fun for two minutes.
But who's gonna let a 16-year-old
with a sticky red face
buy a dozen bottles of expectorant?
I think they'll give you a hard time.
There's always somebody
puttin' a fly in the ointment.
If only Greenpeace was right.
And we could be completely anti-civilization.
Great! Back to living in the Stone Age.
The children are on acid right now.
They're cookin' on acid and killin' cats.
They're spray painting and smokin' pot.
Everything that you don't want 'em to do.
You just laid out the groundwork for 'em to do it.
Wow, that's great. What were we talkin' about?
I started to write a journal because you told me to.
Millions of notes scattered around,
patternless gibberish,
as I flex my vocal cords,
speaking in tongues.
Everything I say, I write it down.
The papers fold back, tucked in,
Fold up my umbrella when it's dry out
and let them cook in the sun.
It's my fault for getting caught in the rain.
I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I won't let it happen again.
I'm saving this story for you because you won't fucking believe it.