typewriter monkey ep. 1: shakespeareless
I don't really have anything in particular I want to write about, and I haven't really had any actual ideas since the I Saw the TV Glow OST post four days ago, so instead I'm just going to make like your average Twitter/X user and type straight bullshit until I run out of steam, because nothing means anything anymore and we can do what we want.
once, I saw five birds on my walk home from school. this was years and years ago, when the pavement along my streets hadn't cracked with age, and the old Asian man with his orange hi-vis vest still ran the convenience store near my bus stop.
the first bird was a dead crow. its body laid belly-up in a patch of grass next to the still-standing husk of a pine tree. there were none others on my route home, so I'd assumed they'd seen the state of their poor friend and decided to steer clear of the area for the time being. I was not harassed or harangued by any on the rest of the way back, so I'd assumed that the case.
the second and third were a pair of robins, perched atop a power line. as I was still a child at the time, I wondered how birds were able to stand on them without getting electrocuted, 'till I eventually learned that the lines in my area were insulated to prevent any avian mishaps or forest fires.
the fourth was a bluejay that flew by as I crossed the busy main road to my neighborhood. I tried desperately not to think about Mordecai from Regular Show, but alas, t'was in vain. a whispered "woooaaahhh" crept out under my breath, as it soared gracefully into the distance.
the fifth was another crow, alive this time. it pecked with intent at a patch of pavement outside one of my neighbor's houses, where a handful of crushed potato chips lay scattered along the road. further along, I could see as a small bag blew away in the wind, along with the crow as I walked past. my mind raced for a few moments, numerous scenarios playing in my head as I pondered how such a thing could happen, 'till I got to my front door and completely forgot about it, as the crow returned to its bountiful supper of fried and lightly salted spuds.