Joseph K. becomes Enlightened
On the first day of his thirty second year, K. finds that he is not dead in the quarry pen.
Instead, he wakes with one hell of a hangover.
(If all language is but poor translation, have you ever tried to read lips?)
It appears his jailers slipped him a mickey.
(If you are a cage, in search of a bird, what will you use as bait?)
So where the hell is he, K. wonders?
(It was like living in the satire of a police state, that was within a police state, that was within a police state)
We'll, hells bells, if I'm not dead, I should make amends with my father. Maybe he wasn't such a bad guy after all.
(Always first draw a fresh breath after bouts of vanity and complacency.)
And shit, I think i'm just going to cut though all this red tape, and see how my appeal is going. Its really not that too terribly unimportant.
(Don Quixote's great misfortune was not his imagination, but Sancho Panza.)
Wait a second, what's that big house on the hill up there? It looks like a Castle. Maybe I should go investigate?
(But at least Sancho knew where to find good rioja).
Now I have this strange sensation that none of this really matters. And that this life is not my own.
(If a book is the axe for the frozen sea within us, wouldn't an electric blanket be less drastic?).
Its not what you think, its how you live
(Experiencing fully automated luxury communism).
Optimistic thoughts of unmitigated disaster
(Give it away quickly, before it grows stale)
Welcome everything, push away nothing
(A fact may be correct, but not true)
One day Joseph K woke to find that he was a giant pleasefish living in a half finished piece of art, waiting to be demolished.
No comments:
Post a Comment