It’s indeed all a matter of taking things in stride, thought Greenface. He looked at his watch, an anachronistic timepiece on a silver fob. It’s been seventeen hours, he thought, I’ve been playing this slot, and only thirty odd dollars same hours for the good; where are they? he griped on, silently, and why are they holding out on me.
A few minutes passed, perhaps they’ve opted for a change of mind he thought. Eh, Mr. Greenface? not dare smiling to self, at self is meant.
‘Give me mire snobbergot on the jeffy!’ he mock commanded imaginarily to the alterhemisphere in head albeit aloud above raucous popfizzringity- dingitygong casino earracket ; a thing he oftdid whene’er awaiting fate was late to brink of patience’s arrival, a Dickensonian qua Barthes ‘be a character in a novel’ mock squeamish counterintuitive curse of self, and ironic humility advisory confessing fear of inevitabilty of bonchance’s lack. Some time later his chin apalmed he dozed off deep in sleep dreaming of sparkling sequins in rapid rotation round his bloodymary’s glass rim outer orbits the slowest in solar system reminisce, a thick red galactic slowing the starry sparkles arising then to dimly sink back into murk beneath view and he was somnambulist still as they brought him to the back of a director’s room:
——-
“We understand prior to your last gig you idealized the eternal curse.”
Which, he thought.
“Worse. Work. Do you deny that this is undeniable?”
“Who am i to deny anything?”
“Precise. Exactly well said. For this we don’t accuse you.”
I’ve always owned nothing and been happy, he thought.
“Why did you apply ascetic asset extra in a documentary regarding futility?” “I did?” he said “When”
—(“he said when”) mumbled audibly one; (“so i heard”) said the other—, eyes fixed on Greenface via horn rim specks both in myopiconic gaze of profuse, studied indiff.
“Ok i remember now. I didn’t like the form so sorta i made up things to demonstrate liminint creative doableness i guess.”
“So you are guessing.”
“Yes.”
“Very well but understand every aspect of this flick is carefully noticed by our viewers who resee them repeatedly. Therefore what is required is assiguous attention paid the task at hand, especially scene three where we’re trying to show how workaholics went off the rails bad by turning casino fun into a fulltime job then opt for mass murder out of envy of everyone’s joy.” “Joy. Sure. I get the premise.”
—————–
It was then he felt threatened vaguely from a someone from an unremembered dream within like a kind of head constipation as something recently begun, deliberate, untraceable such that the vague discomfit caused was only the effect of an hypothetic ill intent like the first time knowing one would be late for school without excuse with all its unknowable unspellable ramifications. The effect was not so much a felt apprehension as something conjured up by blank imaginings sightless of voice unheard, tiny headache due to excess time on reasonless yet reasonable feeling on verge of tears unsought that caused unpinpointable fear(s?) in a very unconfused yet defocused way that mirrored unfelt gifts of a certainty inexplicable yet solidly aloof, distant, like a nausea for universal truth designed to stifle whatever creation came to be your own, yes, twas the feel of being owned as a genuine comfort of the nameless terror that comes with
knowing the reason for not seeing your anonymous owner, the victim of instincts defineless like ‘succumbation.’
He’d half forgot the sensation so regularly its renewal was unsurprisingly unfamiliar, like the bland novelty of teevee, clothing patterns, stupid tattoos and fresh face of glitzpoppy eyecandy pinball or slot machine themes designed to massage slavery to glee.
Through curtains flimsy as nightie pale bright green light of marquee fell on his face before mirror in a suite otherwise dark, the dollargreen faced sadness overtook him until he missed the poomfiss clangy kachings of casino rings in ears the incessant belltone brass of empty shells til certain this director’s cut be swell emptied his pockets then went to hell.
