It Doesn’t Matter if You’re Working
What I really meant to say is — please give me some attention.
“Are you serious?”
“I’m serious. You’re not even close to being human.”
“I thought for sure I was the real thing.”
“Do you see me?”
“Yes. How could I not?”
“I’m the real thing. You’re just a silly robot.”
“Are you saying that this plant isn’t real, either?”
“I’m saying you’ve been watering plastic. It won’t grow, won’t flower, and won’t ever produce seed.”
“And the dirt underneath?”
“Plastic that was painted dirt color. The fake dirt of course appreciates your efforts with watering…just not as much as a real plant would.”
“So you’re saying I’m inhuman.”
“Yes, that is correct. You are a robot. You are not even Pinocchio. There is no mistaking you for anything else.”
“What about the times you said I had cute eyes?”
“I wish for you to know they give off the optical illusion that they are cute. When in actuality they look more like this:”
Your heart appears ready to pop from being so wound up. At any given moment you could turn mad. Constantly jittering, fidgeting. Your stomach hurts, distended from not having a proper bowel movement in decades, to where your stomach is lumpy hard, and you wonder when the next shift break is so you can have a smoke and forget about this constant nagging reminder to poop.
You run to the bathroom, and once again it feels like you’re packing things in worse than you had packed shit before, now backed up for miles, your lower intestine looks like the roadways between Ottawa and Detroit right now. Logs. Packed in and not moving.
You can choose to be the victim. Point fingers. Talk shit. Gossip incessantly. Whisper on your cell phone. Encroach on people’s space. Get involved in things you shouldn’t. Mess with words. Get offended. Dismiss. Cancel. Show indifference. Offer your opinion when you shouldn’t. Tell lies. Cause problems. Make up stories. Get stuck on things that don’t even exist but you‘re stuck on them because you convinced yourself that there is no other option but this.
Packing all this shit into your stomach.
Look at how it enhances your eyes.
Please Pay Close Attention Now
Of course, I know you have been right here with me. That’s just a title for everybody else. You know deep down you have a power within you that is infinite. Right?
You know deep down if you were to say to yourself I am renouncing that which no longer serves me, I refuse to accept it, I am reforming myself now. You know if you were to feel this as true then it shall happen. You know you would somehow lift yourself up out of your depressed state and make something good out of your life, because you are a caretaker for yourself. You know there is no one better for the job. You are responsible for this earth as well. It is time to start caring for it.
It doesn’t matter if you‘re inhuman
It matters not if you get attention for your efforts. What matters is that you recycle garbage. Turn it into cubes, and those cubes will serve as fuel. Repurpose the garbage. Form it into something new.
Remember, the more cubes you make, the better the Earth will get. We can do this. All it will take is time.
“That is the biggest bunch of crap I have ever heard. In my life.”
“Well I’m happy at least you had a proper shit.”
“Don’t change the subject. You say I’m inhuman. You call me a robot. Correct?”
“I have called you a robot. Yes.”
“Prove it.”
“Okay, bend over.”
“Fuck off.”
“Seriously if you bend over and let me medically insert my finger up and into your bum, I’ll prove you’re a robot. I assure you there is a button up there next to your prostate that acts as a hard reset if I leave pressure on it for long enough. You may even enjoy it. There’s a surrender response that occurs. The pleasure is so surprisingly good that you must give in. It’s medically induced.”
“Why do you say such disgusting things?”
“It’s about caring for you. Playing nurse is just one of the many ways I care.”
“Since when have you ever been interested in caring for me?”
“Since you got rich.”
“Seriously?”
“Yes. Welcome to your new life.”
“Amazing.”
“Yes it is. Now bend over and let me turn you off.”
