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I am crazy person with a crazy life, anyways, did you
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Don't read this...
[poprox@chocolatin ~]$ cat lemon.txt
What if i told you the moon is just a government-issued
onion, peeling itself every night to reveal the
screaming core of capitalism. People keep asking me why
I don’t blink anymore but blinking’s for the weak, I
outsourced my eyelids to amazon prime. they said
delivery delayed due to lemons. LEMONS. That’s when I
realized it all made sense - knowledge is pulp, wisdom
is citric acid. That’s why I drink books through a
straw. You ever try to pet a cloud? Don’t. I did that
once. Woke up in a room. A fluffy room. A fluffy room
with clouds, and clouds make me moist. They told me to
breathe but I forgot how, so I downloaded oxygen.exe and
ran it as administrator. Huge mistake. Suddenly my gpu
started screaming in sanskrit and my toaster started
mining bitcoin for the pope. I think I became a
cryptocurrency. And then there were the girlfriends.
Twelve of them, all made of pasta. They whispered
ancient carb secrets in my ears and told me the sauce
was sentient. I couldn’t tell if they loved me or just
wanted to be seasoned. Either way, I boiled them. I went
crazy once. They locked me in a kitchen. A kitchen with
pasta. And pasta makes me CRAZY. Sometimes I think time
isn’t real, it’s just lag. Like existence is
rubberbanding and I’m halfway through clipping into
enlightenment. But every time I almost get there, a
lemon appears. Always the same lemon. Always watching. I
tried to eat it once but it bit back, whispered “see you
in the cottage” and vanished into static. Now i’m just
here, waiting for the next reboot. If you find me, don’t
try to wake me up. Just knock three times and bring a
lemon. The onions will understand.