by Gabe Meline
Found taped to the lightpost, on the corner of Third and E Street:
April Something, Two Thousand Nine
My day usually begins with a cup of hot hot coffee and a few cigarettes, but times are tough lately so I have been drinking Lipton tea which only really half wakes me up. And that’s fine cause my day seems to last longer when I’m sleepwalking. At some point, miraculously, I manage to leave the house. I usually pick up some tobacco at that little place on Third Street where the kids are too busy talking to about nineteen of their friends who are looking at “water pipes,” but they are sweet just the same, and I leave with tobacco, so I leave happy. In my walk through downtown I’ll spot some gentleman who looks extremely handsome in his suit, and wearing a wristwatch. Then I’ll wonder if I’ll ever get married again…and will he be the wristwatch wearing sort? I’ll head off to school on the county transit and show up without having done my homework. Somewhere in the semester I became very confused with life and dropped just about all my classes. I am pretty much just going through the motions at this point. I may in fact be in love with my charming and charismatic teacher which would explain why I manage to show up class after class (empty handed). When I get out of class I smoke a few cigarettes and catch up with a few of my ridiculously witty friends (who I don’t get much quality time with) and head then back to the house to dick around on the internet instead of writing letters to people I miss or doing anything remotely creative…(or homework). At some point I’ll recall something stupid I recently said or did to an acquaintance or somebody I was hoping to impress and I’ll cringe and try to put it out of my mind. On bad days I’ll run an entire high-light reel of my very long history of saying/doing stupid things until I just about shiver out of my skin. Soon I’ll be on another bus to work. Maybe a homeless lady will sing aloud as other passengers smile and pretend not to notice, or maybe two friends will meet and congratulate each other on their respective releases from County. I’ll get to work…work is a whole other anonymous, expository flyer, let me tell you! And I’ll take more than my share of cigarette breaks while daydreaming that I actually could make my bills with my wages, or perhaps that one day I’ll be doing something I absolutely love for a living. Soon I head home, recently I can only muster popcorn for dinner. I pet my puppy dog and ask how her day went, and spend the rest of my night reading travel books or thinking about people I have kissed or want to kiss.
Attention, mysterious author of this flyer: Keep 'em coming!