the land before time.

Maybe there were dinosaurs. Probably sea cucumbers and Christmas tree needles. Only in the land before time there is no Christmas. There is no twenty fifth. There is just time. getCurrentTime() >> 997345463746392384684575730475730573785026346590 <time units> have elapsed since “startTime”. Why thank you, ambiguous pendulum for maybe something useful. What I really want to know is: why Not?

Fuck the end of the earth, explorers wasting lives, unspecified united of time, in the hopes of finding the earth’s flat finish on a disagreeable sudsy horizon. Idiots. Stars wrapped in galaxies speckled with planets and wound tight with Space, all unbothered by the globe. Airheads. This moment, this sentence, it doesn’t make a ripple anywhere other than determining the next word and really – that’s logic and grammar. One butterfly flaps its wings and a tsunami wipes out Hawaii? UNDULATED. No galaxy imploded. No stars lost their dotted way to carefully divined constellations. PORKROAST. See what I mean? Mankind is seriously misguided. We’ve based everything on meaning. Zero equals nothing. 34 – 3 is 31. It is all in order. And when that order smashes, is shifted by one nudge of a definition, even cryptomatics cant coax down the right order of things. But SHIT that’s the thing. There is no right order. Because if some unnamed being – for the sake of this sentence – once declared that time began and light became sunny – what the fiddlestick was in the dark that whole time? CurrentTime() is based on an unknown start. The very humanoid definition of start invalidates Time otherwise you’re stuck like a scratched CD, I bet you think this entry’s about you you you you you you.

Which is why the universe spontaneously combusts. Cars parked on dead leaves, Velcro instead of shoelaces – no matter how badass the story behind Velcro might be – the universe can do one thing with us. We’re flammable, our flags are flammable, our fathers are flammable, our words are flammable. I’m a goddamn fire hazard.

I can’t seem to right myself. Allison1.0 and Allison 2.0 and we’re working on 3.0 but the system’s shitty – worse than Microsoft’s hellish fiends – and there are too many bugs for our exterminators. So Allison X.0 is left to watch this life yarn unravel till the spool runs out. The crones don’t mind, though, because they stopped cutting when the Greeks stopped telling stories and throwing shot put naked.

In a sense I am a non chameleon. I’m rubber you’re glue, anything you say bounces off me and sticks to you. Only that’s not how it happened. I’m having a hard time with ignorance. It follows me everywhere like a diseased dog that won’t go away no matter how many times you kick it. It wears hatred like a shock collar. I hate that dog. Republicans should die. Dawg, I’m Republican. Meat eating kills animals. You’re eating a seed that a bird shit out. Homophobia. I’m lesbian, meet my girlfriend. Suck on it, universe, I’m echo-locating your ass, ask me if I like chocolate (not now) if johnny depp is hot (actually, no) if 34 – 3 is 31 (no, it’s @&^, see what I did there I fucked you over because I am that butterfly that sneezed and took out Canada). I’m a problem. I have a problem. Opposite Day Addicts the twelve steps to accepting morons.

1. Don’t worry, Life had its awkward stages too. Exhibit A: the platypus. The defense rest your honor.