i've been holding my breath, swimming just beneath the ice, only popping up to catch a quick breath of the heavy, moist air to keep me alive; to keep me going.
"what's with the fat-girl-letter K?"
"you know, how fat girls write the letter K."
"how's that?"
"with all straight lines except for the bottom right leg, which is curved outward making the letter look pregnant or bloated."
"hmpf. yeah, you're right. i knew a fat girl and she made her K's like that."
"told you."
then down beneath the water, submerged into the weightless chill, skimming the underbelly of the vast sheet of ice; tiny air bubbles tickling my face as i skim under water. only one thing on my mind...getting there. just get there.
"you know he's in a band?"
"yeah, so what."
"nothing, just that he's in a band. they play a lot."
"so what. he's in a band so he can make cool flyers."
"i wish i had a band so i could make flyers. wouldn't it be cool to have a flyer with ingrid bergman and tattoo from fantasy island..."
"herve villecheze"
"huh?"
"his name was herve villecheze."
"who?"
"tattoo from fantasy island."
"oh, well, i have a cool idea for a flyer with him and..."
"see, that's what i'm talking about. you're just like him, you'd start a band just to make flyers, tshrits, and have people stare at you while you do your best oasis impersonation at some local dive. i bet you'd have an idea for song titles and album covers before you finished a single tune!"
"yeah, so. i'd still be in a band."
"and what's that worth?"
"it gets you laid."
**gasp** lungs bursting, air flowing out like a steam kettle, pluming the exhaled air upward like a fleshy white locamotive. air is the only thought as it seeps back into my lungs, they fill, they feel...good. my eyes narrow, my nostrils clenched as i submerge again.
"what are you thinking about right now?"
"what?"
"what are you thinking right now?"
"i dunno."
"well, you have to be thinking of something."
"i dunno. nothing really."
"well, you have to be thinking of something. were you meditating?"
"i don't think so."
"were you asleep."
"no. i don't think so."
"well, what were you thinking of?"
"well, that i wasn't really thinking of anything?"
"huh?"
"i was thinking that at this moment, i am thinking of absolutely nothing and that's...cool. that in itself, i mean."
looking for the next air hole, i push on. the water around me like a freezing glove, but my insides are on fire, burning from exhaustion. looking through the water, everything seems unstable, wobbly. where's that next air hole?
"what's with the fat-girl-letter K?"
"you know, how fat girls write the letter K."
"how's that?"
"with all straight lines except for the bottom right leg, which is curved outward making the letter look pregnant or bloated."
"hmpf. yeah, you're right. i knew a fat girl and she made her K's like that."
"told you."
then down beneath the water, submerged into the weightless chill, skimming the underbelly of the vast sheet of ice; tiny air bubbles tickling my face as i skim under water. only one thing on my mind...getting there. just get there.
"you know he's in a band?"
"yeah, so what."
"nothing, just that he's in a band. they play a lot."
"so what. he's in a band so he can make cool flyers."
"i wish i had a band so i could make flyers. wouldn't it be cool to have a flyer with ingrid bergman and tattoo from fantasy island..."
"herve villecheze"
"huh?"
"his name was herve villecheze."
"who?"
"tattoo from fantasy island."
"oh, well, i have a cool idea for a flyer with him and..."
"see, that's what i'm talking about. you're just like him, you'd start a band just to make flyers, tshrits, and have people stare at you while you do your best oasis impersonation at some local dive. i bet you'd have an idea for song titles and album covers before you finished a single tune!"
"yeah, so. i'd still be in a band."
"and what's that worth?"
"it gets you laid."
**gasp** lungs bursting, air flowing out like a steam kettle, pluming the exhaled air upward like a fleshy white locamotive. air is the only thought as it seeps back into my lungs, they fill, they feel...good. my eyes narrow, my nostrils clenched as i submerge again.
"what are you thinking about right now?"
"what?"
"what are you thinking right now?"
"i dunno."
"well, you have to be thinking of something."
"i dunno. nothing really."
"well, you have to be thinking of something. were you meditating?"
"i don't think so."
"were you asleep."
"no. i don't think so."
"well, what were you thinking of?"
"well, that i wasn't really thinking of anything?"
"huh?"
"i was thinking that at this moment, i am thinking of absolutely nothing and that's...cool. that in itself, i mean."
looking for the next air hole, i push on. the water around me like a freezing glove, but my insides are on fire, burning from exhaustion. looking through the water, everything seems unstable, wobbly. where's that next air hole?