Will Kellogg, You Bastard!
for Charlie
Life is alternately surprising and disappointing , punctuated with moments of beauty, understanding, and joy. It is also peppered, sometimes a bit too heavily, with episodes of abject horror.
Like when you stop to take a breath, prepare yourself a bowl of cereal and feel the gratitude of having just enough cold, fresh milk to enjoy the treat. You climb back into your warm bed for a moment or two to savor the moment in solitude. On the way down, a short, pleasant sms catches your eye. As your weary but thankful form nestles into the warm, clean sheets (prepared as you are now for a few moments of sublime contentment) you dump half that crunchy cereal and frigid milk all over the (heretofore pristine) sheets — and right into your unsuspecting crotch.
Fuck you, life.
And fuck your sick, twisted sense of humor.
Fuck, fuck, fuckity FUCK!
Fuck you right in that gaping maw of laughter and insanity — even as I join in.
“Tears in the rain?”
Bah!
Roy Batty had it all wrong.
It’s, “Tears in the milky, sugary breakfast cereal.”
Part of THIS nutritious breakfast.
