A priest, a priest, and an atheist walk into a bar.
They say to the bartender, “I’ll have a beer.”
The bartender says, “Oh, it’s a special night. It’s Wednesd’y. So that’s three bucks a beer.”
Priest says, “Ok’y.” Priest says, “Ok’y.” And the atheist says, “Ok’y.”
A giraffe walks into the bar and yells, “Dickfest ‘93!”
Then he leaves the bar cause he’s gotta go promote his event.
Bartender says, “Ok’y, whatta we have here?” And the fisherman walks up to the bar and says, “H’y, Bill.”
Most of the time, I wake up covered in string. Fishing, shoe, jellyfish with tiny dripping needles. Like burning spaghetti. Or hell. Sometimes it’s threads of gravity tying me to the bed, tripping me every time I walk to the bathroom.
Ain’t we endless. Ain’t ever’thing. Ain’t it always has been, will. Just stretched out nowhere near infinite till it ain’t. Clear as math.
It’s about time I told you about my computer, here. Built this myself. Guess you could say it’s needlepoint. I discovered this thread while sleeping. Webs over everything, atomic filament. No, you can’t see it. You remember noticing cat’s cradle tween buildings or people? Bananas and soccer teams? One day my face was just covered. Traced the specific glints’a light that let me see it. Quit the factory to collect the thread. It ain’t that it won’t let me die. It’s what you learn. You learn the commands for particle board, red squirrel, people and dust and space and light. How to make God. You learn your own code. All’s left’s to manipulate it.