Best Fronds Forever
When I can’t sleep due to the worries of the real world running through my head I lay in bed and imagine that I am somewhere else. Somewhere peaceful that I can relax and let stress drift away. I envision that I am lying on a grassy hillside. There is a blue sky up above with clouds floating gingerly past. All of the clouds are shapeless and cottony. A cool breeze blows on me manufactured by a dozen Dutch milkmaids in Kabuki make-up waving giant fronds from some far off palm trees. They sing me songs from their native land about a wall made of bottles of beer, in which they dismantle the wall one bottle at a time and pass them a round. The sun peeks out from behind the clouds and gives me a wink and waves hello to me.
The grass doesn’t so much tickle my feet as it gently massages them and I can see a distant fair grounds bustling with activity just over the next hill. My cat gently nuzzles my face and gives me an affectionate nibble (that part isn’t imagined, she just likes to fuck with me when I’m trying to sleep). The steady rhythm of the breeze matches that of my heart beat and the song starts to fade in and out. Every now and again a bird chirps a playful song and I notice the sun is still poking around the clouds and waving at me, persistently.
The smell of Rosemary is in the air and I find peace in the scent. Rosemary was this chick I used to sit behind in Anthropology in college. She smelled like pot and ice cream. Come to think of it, she did use to work at a Baskin Robbins and had a reputation for partying fairly hard. She always seemed pretty mellow to me though, so I guess you can’t believe everything you hear. The sun is waving hard at me now and is very intent on getting my attention.
The vision starts to blur and come in and out of focus now. The milkmaids’ song is getting to the last few dozen bottles in the beer wall. The clouds are slowing their trek across the azure sky, and the birds sound further away now. The sun looks really frustrated so I wave back to it and it looks overjoyed. It then sends me a lollipop through a pneumatic tube and asks if I have any other transactions to make. When I say “no”, it thanks me and tells me to have a good day.
In other news, has anyone else noticed how long those lines at the bank take?
The grass doesn’t so much tickle my feet as it gently massages them and I can see a distant fair grounds bustling with activity just over the next hill. My cat gently nuzzles my face and gives me an affectionate nibble (that part isn’t imagined, she just likes to fuck with me when I’m trying to sleep). The steady rhythm of the breeze matches that of my heart beat and the song starts to fade in and out. Every now and again a bird chirps a playful song and I notice the sun is still poking around the clouds and waving at me, persistently.
The smell of Rosemary is in the air and I find peace in the scent. Rosemary was this chick I used to sit behind in Anthropology in college. She smelled like pot and ice cream. Come to think of it, she did use to work at a Baskin Robbins and had a reputation for partying fairly hard. She always seemed pretty mellow to me though, so I guess you can’t believe everything you hear. The sun is waving hard at me now and is very intent on getting my attention.
The vision starts to blur and come in and out of focus now. The milkmaids’ song is getting to the last few dozen bottles in the beer wall. The clouds are slowing their trek across the azure sky, and the birds sound further away now. The sun looks really frustrated so I wave back to it and it looks overjoyed. It then sends me a lollipop through a pneumatic tube and asks if I have any other transactions to make. When I say “no”, it thanks me and tells me to have a good day.
In other news, has anyone else noticed how long those lines at the bank take?
Atom Feed (xml)