Daily Report Number 6
Bob drink pop. Bob like pop. Chug it Bob! Gulp! Gulp! Gulp! Burrp! Belch! Today you will find the love of your life. The love of your life will fall from a great height and die. Bob draw picture. Awww! That nice Bob! This will make you happy. You have never loved your life. Bob sharpens crayon. Sharping crayons fun. Green, blue, orange. Very pretty Bob. You point at the rainbow, but nobody notices. That is fine you decide. They will have to wait until it rains to see.
Daily Report Number 5
Duck float on water. Bob see duck. Hello Mister Quackers! Hello Mister Quackers! You lived longer than you intended and now you must decide what your life might be. Squeak! Go duck. Duck. Goose. (groan) Bob climb out of tub. Splish! Splash! Your heart wants to touch the earth, but skin and bones keep you caged. Bye Bye Mister Quakers! Bye Bye Mister Quakers! You are glad daily requirements prevent you from having to take responsibly for any real decisions in life. Bob pull the plug.
Daily Report Number 13
Bob laugh. Bob so silly. You don’t say a word even though they are waiting for you to speak. You never needed other people to realize that you existed. You have always dreamed of being the tall dark cowboy riding away in the sunset. But, instead, you must return each day, face the same people, and act as though you care. Being a human every day is harder than it appears. No wonder, you think, people consider the setting sun to be so beautiful to watch as it escapes into tomorrow. Bob.
Daily Report Number 7
Bob heart sad. Bob hold heart.
Headstone marked thoughts trace the silence of your voice. You realize you have lost much of your life to pride, fear, and anger. Bob quiet. You hear your heart in the rolling ivory stones of piano play.[1] Bob hold heart in. Bob not share heart. Come here Bob. Cry on my shoulder. You had forgotten your heart existed. You discover the miracle of knowing another person even if it is only yourself. Bob spill heart unto your shoulder. Strange. The heart spills out a salty, watery solution. No wonder life appears fake even the tears lack substance. Bob share heart.
[1] Suggest reading “Allegro” by Tomas Tranströmer if the reader would like to hear the piano music as well.
Daily Report Number 8
Bob take nap. Wake-up Bob! Put nap back Bob. Time’s cliché is fast. Your life has but one past. Bob sit in chair. Bob chair go round and round. Don’t fall down dizzy Bob! You choose to live each day on its own. You never return to the start. Penguins! Bob found penguins! Oh! Look at the penguins! The words wash over you like healing waters from deep below. But you are still unable to find the well from which your life flows. Penguins! Bob like penguins.
puff, puff, puff.
The red tractor goes
bang, bang, bang.
The white tractor goes
roar, roar, roar.
The little dirt goes
ouch, ouch, ouch.
