written by owen

I got thirsty. So I when to the supermarket. Not content with the usual juice I thought to seek out something new, a forbidden fruit. Slow down, here tonight, might be gone tomorrow. Seem like tropical rythms is in the habit of mixing all of its fruit flavors. It was nothing but mango carrot passion, guava cherry, fruit punch, pineapple guava carrot and a pink one. It is like one of the fruits sued the company for racism.

Don't annoy me please - I have enough problems. I am sitting here at my cubicle trying to do work I was assigned 8 months ago, I have it all planned out in my head as I go along, I am the constant gardener. It maybe Friday afternoon for you but I live in the future. Its been Friday since last week, everyday is exactly the same, I repeat the same routine. I am not bored enough yet. Just because I say nothing does not mean that I want to say something. I was born in another age.

Note to self; I need to buy a new case of Juice. I don't know why I keep buying the Sunday Gleaner, maybe its the fact that the old man travels all the way from, god knows how far, on his old bicyle to bring it to me personally for the last couple of years. I could be spending that extra hundred dollars on drugs and alcohol. Instead I scan the headlines and read the health section for the latest advice from the doctor on the effects of lesbian encounters while on vacation. Getting my hands black with ink like a mechanic or a monkey.

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