Gabriel Munro
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1: Whatever you call a Saturday when Saturday doesn't exist anymore

2/15/2020

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​Kind of an annoying day today. The world was finally sick of my nonsense, so it left.

I stared out my bedroom window.

Where there used to be chickadees and recycling bins there was now only a dreamless abyss.

I tried to google “the world’s gone how to get it back” but, wouldn’t you know it, no internet.
​
I played with that little jumping dinosaur, but eventually he, too, ran away – even the cacti couldn’t stop him.
Picture
I read for a while. Practiced guitar. My mind wandered.

If the world’s gone, is that writing assignment still due on Thursday?

It’s astounding that, even with no outside world, one can feel anxious. There exists nothing to fear whatsoever, and yet fear remains. Untethered, unreasoning. Anxiety only wears circumstance as a mask – when circumstance is gone, it remains, naked.

Should I … be doing something? Should I wait here? Will it come back?

There’s a part of me, a vicious little nagging thing, that wants to reject the world that rejected me.

To hell with it.

Good riddance. I didn’t like it anyway.

Too much suffering. Too much poverty. Season 5 of Rake was weak.

I’m better alone.

So

Very
​
Alone.
 
...but maybe next week I’ll try going for a walk. You know, just to see.
 

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  • About
  • Music
    • Neo-Baroque
    • Folk/Rock
  • Stories
  • Poetry
  • Radio
  • Blog
  • Contact