The Cheeky Shag: Stuck Between Oblivion And An All Day Breakfast Menu
By: Michael Kaczmarczyk
© Emily Larsen
It was 2016 and I was selling t-shirts at some bullshit amateur rock festival when a
woman came up to ask if we sold deodorant. I told her we didn’t but the bar gave out free
glasses of Ice Water, and she spit on me. The old man who was working the stand with
me told me, “That’s women,” and I nodded in agreement even though I had no idea what
the hell he was talking about. The feeling of thick saliva above my eyebrow made me feel
faint and I told the old man I needed some fresh air. He said “That’s life,” and I shook my
head as I made my way towards the back door.
The night air was cool, but I had to squint, because some asshole parked his car in the
alley and left his headlights on.
People tear each other up over religion and politics and the inconsiderate assholes get off
clean.
Everything written is a lie that has all ready been written as another lie by another man
who is much greater and smarter and dead, and the dead man who wrote, wrote it cause
he accepted the fact that he was going to die, so much so that he was determined to die
writing it, and in writing it he found solace in life before solace in death. The solace
would be accompanied by a small amount of disgust for those still alive dragging their
feet on the earth above and never finding solace in life and therefore not accepting death
and there-even more-fore not being able to write anything of substance or ambition or
purpose, and critique writing by whether or not it's great or awful instead of critiquing on
whether it is honest or pure or full of drive like a horse roaming through an empty desert
for days and days on end, and when asked if he would like some water, he would say
something profound like, “Nah Baby, I’m searching for the freedom that somebody else
already found and took far, far away from here," and the horse would undergo
dehydration and starvation until it finally found whatever nonsense it thought it was
looking for, and then he would reach something that transcends his own existence.
He would proclaim “Yeehaw, Hallelujah!” with little to no regard about what came
next…
© Michael Kaczmarczyk
