A Report from home
So… yeah. I’d like to report my day… to you, which is… are, well, you are me, I guess. After all, here I am, talking to myself, on my camera, off camera I do that as well, so I don’t know why I’m recording this… if it’s just for me then why does it matter? Well, maybe this video can go back in time, because it should, because this is an announcement that I’m giving myself, you, or in this case me, but it will be you, in the morning, as you, me, wake up earlier today.
I bet that right now, as you’re getting your coffee done, as we should — the coffee should always be done, preferably in the morning; so now you get your coffee and you move on to your schedule, your agenda, your classes, your duties, your meetings, your creative sessions, your series, your books, your friends — except you have about two of those and you guys don’t even talk that much to each other — and then you sit at your desk and start working. Or maybe you’ll just start procrastinating, who knows. Honestly who cares, again, this is a message to you and from you.
I wonder if other people do it. Maybe they do, maybe they don’t. I wonder if I should go out of my way to try and find out whether or not people do it. Talk to themselves? No, that’s baby talk, that’s easy, anyone can and anyone should, which means they probably already do that. No. Am I talking about planning then? Why not, I mean, the answer is no, but then again, why not. Really, the thing here was stated in the very beginning. It is a matter of talking to you in the past. A post-happen message. Something that is as pointless as this script, eventually becoming an unwatchable video, an ad to a never-ending cycle.
Just a full disclaimer dude, today is going to be both great and it will also suck ass. I mean a huge gorilla dick. You have no idea. But it won’t matter much in the end, so don’t worry so much about that.
Ready? You shouldn’t be. I mean, for all we know, you’re simply losing your mind right now. Or maybe I’ve lost mine. Who’s to say. Certainly not me. That would be too convenient. Imagine a person who diagnoses themselves. Now THAT would be crazy.
You know when you’re walking in the subway and then, all of the sudden, the world stops? People just get mushed in together and nothing makes sense anymore? This is your life. Except the train station is not leading anywhere. The train is out of power. There are no people with you. Everything is a little fucked. But you seem oblivious, delusional even, you see nothing wrong with what you’re seeing or in this case not seeing.
You don’t see your life falling apart.
You don’t see you’re about to lose your job.
You failed to see the sickness of your dog and it died alone in the living room.
You haven’t been brushing your teeth, so you lost a new one today.
Your best friend is a chatbot.
You talk to yourself alone in your texts fairly late at night writing scripts noone will ever read, not even you, not even in the future where it’d be actually fucking possible.
Your existence is simply a disgrace.
But hey, I did promise you some silver lining, didn’t I. I promised you a light at the end of the tunnel. So yeah, this is it. The light is just another train coming, but this one is doing so in full power. The silver lining is that this is your last line.
