Musings of a Basement Dweler

satire (52)in #writing • 9 years ago

Note: I'm bringing this series back alive on my new blog @satire.

I'm a ginger busker from the West Midlands.

Every morning:

1. Wake up, get out of bed - whilst standing up slowly to avoid bumping my head on the basement ceiling

2. Delete the history on my Mom's Laptop, collect my tissues, and tip-toe my way out of the basement, through the stairs and out of the house, to avoid parents' enquiries on when I'll decide to look for a "proper job".

Gosh, they're stuck in an illiberal financial paradigm!

Oops!

I then reenter my house to throw away my tissues, and more importantly to pick up my guitar and my favorite panhandling bowl.

With my guitar slung across my back in a cable-carrying-case, I re-exit the house unbothered, and carefree.

Yes, I haven't showered, but we're in a new hygienic paradigm.

Strolling along the cobbled streets, I find myself humming a gallimaufry of pop songs which I probably heard on the radio, or perhaps in 'Teens Tight Jeans: Volume 1' at around 21:33 where Amia Miley reaches for...Nope!

I won't indulge it!

I signed up to /r/NoFap just yesterday!

Strolling along a bit more, I realise I haven't shaven my beard in 4 months!

Gosh! I've become a veritable Islamo-hipster!

The mere thought threatens to induce diaphragm RSI!

Al-Britaniki-BasementDwell'ah

Side thought: Would ISIS accept me if I really tried my best?

I enter a familiar corner shop and greet my old buddy Prakash with a: "Sup, P? Two packs of ciggies" .

As the price of the cigarette packs is displayed on the electronic counter, I realize I'll have to panhandle pretty successfully today for my corporate-boycotting campaign to survive.

We close the deal, and I'm back out forming a collage of melodies I heard, perhaps in...Nope! I won't got there.

I zap back in to reality: Wow, some true Matrix-shit right there.

How have I already arrived at the city-centre?

Where did I go for the past 30 minutes?

Have the Bilderbergs started pumping Fluoride in my Water Supply?

These bastards want to calcify my pineal gland, but I won't let them!

OM-SHANTI-OM!

Wish I could store my Vedic Mantra playlist in my Nokia '07...but the fight to resist corporate technological oppression must continue.

I breathe to draw Prajna from an astral plane - SAMSARA!