pick up sticks

every time i pick up a pen it reminds me of the last time i picked up a pen. then i recall the last thing i wrote. it makes me laugh. my laugh reminds me that life is too short to waste. i throw the pen in the wastepaper basket as the ink is running out of the end of the pen. which then reminds me that i have to go and take a bog. as i'm sitting there reading the newspaper, i hear a strange noise. it's the text message alert on my mobile phone. i finish my business and go out to make myself some lunch. what did i have for lunch yesterday i think, so i won't have the same thing today. can't remember so it doesn't really matter as i slap the steak on the griller. some garlic will keep the wolves at bay. i shield the sun from my eyes so that i can see the dark. which of course is necessary to see the light. and then i remember the text message - its bad news.