Nine drafts… days and days of silence and vide… and finally a petit post from those freshly painted PINK fingernails… The toes chose blue, a shade of blue-green actually.. Mind you, they objected to the bright Oh-so-cheery PINK, whining at how they had to tolerate eight long hours running by, cramped in those bright PINK heels… looking at their friends parading in flat pumps..So I painted them in blue, with the wicked intention of banning flip-flops and stuffing them in PINK heels for God- knows-how-many centuries to come…. Oh .. not to forget! Apparently the blue irritated the Patron Chuck… So all-the-more a reason to keep painting them blue.. maybe i should try green?
The vehicle kept rolling… it rolled so fast.. just like those words, curling around his tongue, like a kid playing expertly with a tootsy roll… letters just rushed out one after the other .. you had to keep up… your eyes… ears.. senses…and they rhymed… they rhymed like a musical tune.. words and verbs and nouns and more words and along i hummed… i hummed in that little head of mine and i tapped a finger or two… funny, you see sleek combed curls, a neat suit (designer je pense), quite tire-a-quattre-epingles and lo and behold a curly rapper… ironic in a sense and not in the other.. A girl in dresses with PINK for a name and rap songs as a new found game… quite hard for the average brain to take in all that… ironic how those corporate boxes strip beings off their true identity.. their passion, their fire… those things that make their eyes twinkle.. Everyone gets in wearing a uniform… with a tag.. i mean a title.. Funny, it’s funny how I thought I was the only one trapped in a corporate Maze, chasing… what? I wasn’t quite sure… the dolla’ bills, he sang… and it’s sad..I guess that’s what I’m chasing… those bills… And it’s not like they run away like time… Quite le contraire mon cher… I see them bills all around us… chilling… they just sit there… lazily… their legs crossed… like sexy lovely ladies… clinking drinks and watching you sprint… At first, it looks like you’re competing next to your fellow minutes … running around in circles… but then its so obvious…so obvious how the entire show was to get to them, the Dolla’ bills… Minutes compete… they make the track feel longer.. you get dizzy and tired… but then, you look up at the delightful happy bill things, and you smile and run along… While they sit happily out of your reach, like pretty dolls, with all them boys surrounding… lying lazily under the sun.. with un verre de martini in one hand… big sunglasses shading away those piercing eyes… and not a care in the world… They know… that all those fingertips reaching out.. were far..far away.. Some other beings wake up lying on a nesting bunch… a bunch that came along with a name… A name that promises a world of sun and fun… with time parading around… and envious bills suffering some kind of rejection syndrome… Some beings, walk hand in hand with them pretty bills… childhood friends… with nothing to make em part… ironic non?… and I walk again.. attempting to sprint… instead dragging my heels along…but where do i go?… Nobody knows…
