Wednesday, July 28

...add Bach to taste

He wrote his parting words deliberately, carefully dotting the i and crossing the t in "Music has left me.". Folded neatly in half and slipped inside an envelope, he placed the suicide note on an old vinyl record. Downing the rest of his JD, he stepped onto a chair and tightened the wire around his neck. The kick to the stool, the cracking open of the ceiling and the fall happened in slow, surreal motion. The other end of the wire brought down the fan and cracked his skull. He lay there unconscious, unaware that the scrapes of metal jutting into his brain would bring him closer to music than any amounts of dope could.

When he woke up 3 weeks later inside a quiet hospital room, he could taste the empty silence. When the doctor's cellphone played Beethoven's 5th, he felt a flurry of flavors dance on his tongue. The doctor informed him that tiny pieces of Aluminium were lodged in his brain, which could not be removed without damaging it more. He would need to take some tests. But he couldn't care less. After spending half his life trying to tell good music from bad, he had acquired taste for music, literally.

Aware full well he had no insurance or money to pay for any more treatment, he sneaked out. The streets were unbearable. The taste ranged from wet paper to rancid meat. Jamming fingers in both ears, he ran back to the apartment. He had to drown out the street noise before he puked so he asked the teenager who lived down the corridor to play some loud music. He ran into the bathroom, tore off the hospital clothes and stepped into the shower.

The teenager eventually saw water flowing out of the bathroom and when he didn't answer her knocks, she kicked the door until it gave. His body lay there with fingers wrapped around both ears, now hard with rigor mortis. When the paramedics finally left with his body, the teenager turned off her favorite song which had been playing on loop all day.

He was the only victim of Lady Gaga poisoning.

(Inspired by Avery Edison's stories. As inspirations go, this one couldn't hold a candle to them.)

Sunday, July 25

Mad World

Last night I read this blog with the most amazing, minimalist, otherworldly stories. With the first post about porn, I assumed it was a guy. The smart use of CSS in the design indicated a design geek.

There's a lot of funny, imaginative and completely weird writing on the blog. Give the first 7-8 posts a try before you read on.

As I scrolled down hungrily for more interesting posts, the picture of a cute redhead wearing a set of nerdy glasses cropped up. Whoa, definitely not a guy. But as posts went by, the mention of a girlfriend kept coming up. And not always in the creepy sorority sense. As the author's adoration for her female friend became clearer, I wondered if all the good looking geeks are either imaginary, lesbian or both.

Then on page 7 was the post about her high school years and how she used to be a dude.

Sunday, July 18

Time to kill

I fidget with the keyboard,
and the clock says 4:38,
I have no reason to be sleeping,
Nor any to be awake.
But why suffer alone,
when not all readers are gone,
and some still pass time,
getting wasted on hackneyed rhyme.
I begin this with several ideas
and more than a tinge of hope
to write a wee better than
a chimpanzee on dope.
However, before I subject you
to senseless poetic abuse,
I must come up with,
my metaphorical muse.
But alas! I have no poetry,
nor grammar-murdering prose,
I long so much for a subject,
Take my kingdom for a horse!
I have run out of Shes,
who once were in plenty,
all I have are dry dreams,
of the cup that runneth over.
Octobers will be lukewarm,
Novembers won't be wet,
Sundays are if ever,
a pale hint of scarlet.
Extricate me from these times,
I get down and pray,
When 6 likes on FB,
are the highlight of the day.