a magical journey through my dick

welcome to the magical land of stories, everybody. today we are going on a journey through time and memory. it goes something just a little bit like this:


1.
I GOT ON the train. i sat down. i had a guitar. after a while i looked up. there's a little screen that tells you where the train will stop next. i looked at it. i wanted to know where we were.

it said this:

10145001G 220CC
CLOCK CHIP
32K RAM
SUN 9.39 AM
SPECIAL ADDRESS = 00

i was surprised. i'd thought we were somewhere in the melbourne CBD but apparently we were going to an address in the clock chip. the only address i could think of inside a clock chip is a memory address so i guessed we were going on some kind of journey through memory. this could have been 'problematic', as they teach you to say at uni*: i was meant to be hanging out with my daughter alaska that afternoon. i looked outside. everything was black but we were being circled by bright white lights.

'so this is memory,' i thought.

i looked over to my right. there was a guy looking at me. actually, he looked like he'd recently been looking at me but had just then stopped. his eyes looked like they'd just slid off my face. he had an absinthe-green bottle of sprite on his lap where his dick should be. was he trying to tell me something with the absinthe-green bottle of sprite?

whatever it was, i didn't get it. besides, i had a guitar sitting on my lap. much bigger than the bottle of sprite.

i looked up at the sign again. apparently we were still travelling through memory. i looked out the window. there were languid willows, just like i remembered from my last train journey. there were magical pines. i remembered the magical pines too.

i looked at the guy again. his eyes slid off again. again, again, i won: his dick was still a bottle of sprite and mine was still a guitar.


2.
EARLIER I'D BEEN sitting in a thai cafe. i eat there a lot. while i'd been ordering a little mouse ran across the floor, skittering from side to side like a streaker. the woman who ran the cafe went and put on a rubber glove and then went and caught the mouse by a table and carried it out. i went and sat at the table the mouse had hidden under. it seemed only fitting.

i was reading philip k dick and listening to soft-rock because that's what they listen to in the cafe.

philip k dick was saying something about morality. the music was saying

and i never touched somebody
like the way i touched your body
and i never wanna let your body
go

3.
LATER I WALKED home. i saw gum nuts on the ground like tiny bombs. i guess i was still on a journey through memory because i remembered being about seven and noticing this for the first time, that gum nuts were shaped like cartoon bombs. me and my friend jason code got together in the playground and schemed a plot: we'd bring matches to school the next day and see if we could blow up the school with a couple of these bombs.

it wasn't that we disliked school, especially. i think it was just the opportunity to blow up a building. it seemed too good to miss.

we met the next day. i had the matches. we collected a few gum nuts and sauntered casually to behind the main building and started trying to light the fuses. it didn't work very well but we persisted and in fact we were quite absorbed in the challenge which might explain why we didn't notice the approach of mrs munn. mrs munn was a horrible witch, four thousand years old. she materialised from nowhere and grabbed the matches.

she looked at us with her face which was four thousand years old, from after the fall but before the flood. then she opened her mouth which i guess was also four thousand years old.

'what were you trying to do? burn down the school?' she said, fixing us with her ancient stare. reader: this may have started as a rhetorical question but we both looked pretty guilty when she said this so i guess she divined our true purpose pretty smartish. her mouth set hard and horizontal and she lit one of the matches and grabbed my little hand in a grip like the iron cage of weberian rationality.

'very well: how about if i burnt you, would you like that?' she said, and started drawing the flame closer to my finger.

'aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah i'm sorry i'm sorry i'm sorry!' i said. jesus! this wasn't in the plan! whose fucking idea was it to burn down the fucking school anyway? not mine, that was becoming very fucking clear.

'oh? you're sorry are you?' she said. she pronounced 'sorry' like it tasted bad in her mouth and drew my little finger even closer.

'aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!' i said, with as much dignity as i could muster (none, as it happens).

the gum nuts meanwhile sat silently on the ground. i guess they are all grown up now with families of their own.

love to all
xxx


* narelle walker pointed this out to me. hi narelle! i am in yr computer, arrangin yr wordz! LOLZ!!!!111!!!