Wednesday, April 3, 2024

Lost

                                    

I am lost. This news should come as no surprise to my detractors. For legal reasons I cannot name them, but I can provide this link and this other link. Long blog short, I fell asleep and drifted way off course. The actual time I was asleep was somewhere between 8 and 80 hours. There are no clocks or humidifiers on my vessel for personal reasons.

I am safe. My boat is hidden behind a mound of recyclable material in the muddy corner of a moderately  sized harbor. Did you know fluorescent light bulb tubes can be recycled? They make long, narrow contact lenses out of them.

I am walking. The landscape is green, slightly mountainous, and there is an urgent need for GPS technology or something else to tell me where I am. An off-kilter caravan slumps in the distance. Approaching slowly, I whistle the tune melody of "Brooklyn By The Sea" to warn anyone inside that I am nearing closer. I regret leaving my bow and arrow on the boat. For some unknown reason, I did bring my quiver.

I am welcome. A musty monk sits inside. He is dressed in mud-crusted corduroy and offers me some freshly chewed carrots. We chat in our own languages and facial expressions. He stomps his foot wildly when I say the word "Lost" and a piece of the caravan floor crumbles to the grass below. Jumping up from his bean bag, he rummages in his rummaging sack and tosses several items at me. Costume jewelry, excelsior, air pods, a softball with a question mark on it. He lets out an elongated "Wezzzoopia" and forcibly places a tattered dvd case in my lap. It's Season 3 of the ABC confusion-tainment hit series "Lost". I pretend to eat it, then wear it as a hat. He nibbles on a carrot and cries.

I am not lost. I am exactly where I should be. At least that's what I think he was trying to tell me. It's time for me to go. I bow slowly while waving goodbye. He rubs his chin on a piece of cardboard and takes one of my shoes. Back to the boat, a quick siphoning of fuel from a pleasure craft named "Coś podejrzanego" ("Somethin' Fishy" ha, ha...) out of Gdańsk, and I am on my way. I also stole a clock from the weird hermit man. Sometimes personal reasons for doing certain things need revising, updating, or deleting.

- Don

P.S. Still listening to Spotify. Who is paying for it? Listen to what I'm listening to here.



No comments:

Post a Comment