When was the last time you faked charisma?
Were you wasted?
Profiling your interests for a dating site?
(“wild parties, latin dancing, balloon sculpture”)
Sometimes making a fake is a waste, like breaking a lake or trying to pick up in a pickup.
Sometimes language is a loser and dejected hacks are behind everything...
The way we are a couple of days after getting loved up on pills is the opposite of charisma:
our faces deserted, all but the most animal entertainment fails;
all is lost (until found again).
‘Suicide Tuesday’: my manager wears charisma like headdress feathers of an Indian Chief that I see reflected on my monitor while he peers, arms folded, behind me.
(If I was born again as an officeworker I’d hope to be blind; who needs the protesting eyes, carcinogens, under-appreciation, murderous décor?)
Figure that only some freak emergency can save me; daydream that somewhere, in another corner of hyperspace (hmm... why not in a gym?), disaster has dropped: trampling hordes / malfunctioning alarms / charisma leaking everywhere
As published in bambikino 9, November 2008.
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