Three Thirty-Three

Three Thirty-Three

This weird and abstract apparatus we call life. It can be the oddest, and the simplest, and the most cherished, loved, adored, and hated thing of all things. & what of it? I mean… we come to ask questions like.. what does it all really mean, I mean? It doesn’t make sense, but it does, at the same time. It is a contradiction I tell you. For one time I thought that I’d found a secret to it. That all life really was is just one massive incongruity of contradictions and denials. I am to be a nihilist’s nonbeing, an aggregate of oblivion.

In my African American Studies class, I’m supposed to write a 5 to 7 page paper on my identity. But what identity does Dr. Lavender speak of? Is it how the other sees me? Am I to write such a statement through his eyes. For how do I describe my eye without the aid of a mirror? Like I am to ponder on the imperfections of a square society’s reflections. As they say to me ‘David, you are a black man! And excessive melanin and lacking of light makes you a lesser being than the rest of us! Your ancestors were inferior to the whole and so are you; but not as much now a days.. since the politicians change the rules for the sake of the many’s opining.”

Why do they call me black, when my skin is of some brownish texture? I call their demeaning deeming a societal black. And this label too is absurd, like all of their other meaningless rabbles of structure.

Civilization is deviance, normality is madness, and to be refined is to be an asshole, in my own opinion!!! These are my thoughts at three thirty-three in the morning, and I’m holding on to them relentlessly.

I know that this next part is random, and so is my usual state of mind; but I do enjoy wearing nice suits and neckties. I also enjoy hot and steamy sex a lot more, especially outside, on some shadowy park bench. Or better yet, I’ll pin her up against a tree, and brace my arms around the sensual nudity of her upper legs. Then I’ll thrust with robust intentions of fulfilling what Mother Nature intended! This is just a quaint theory of mine, but I think sex is the sincerest thing of our humankind. I was trying to do her with a Dionysian madness, as we were both choc full of gin and juice and ganja! After we both climax I decide to relax and just reflect on the happenings of tonight. From that I then begin to drift off while I reminisce on the oblivious recollections of yesteryear.

I fire up my wine flavored black and mild cigar and take a long and easy puff. As the smoke slowly flits from my nostrils I think back on all of the women of my day. Sex is a good thing, and I thank the good Lord for it. I love women too, though I’ll never understand ‘em.