Between 4am & Morning

Things to think

about between 4am and morning.

Do you think towels hate their life? It’s not a good one.

Is there a big cemetery of dead Christmas trees? Where they all sit around a fire in some wasteland, swapping stories about the colossal fail that was Susan’s attempt at a vegan turkey, how crude Uncle Greg’s jokes were this year and how Jane definitely hated her earrings from John. They’d all laugh, drunk on moonshine, until they realised they’d never get another Christmas. Or, do they just go into a giant mulcher and get turned into saw dust to soak up vomit piles in terrible pubs?

Why do cats remind me of the lady who always asks for the manager?

What language do dogs think in?

What kind of person would I be if my name were Milk?

When you put a spoon in the fork section of the cutlery drawer do the forks beat on him all night, like a prison gang? Or do they just ask lots of questions to the spoon, like what it’s like to be able to hold liquids, to hold another spoon so close – to be able to do anything but fork?

When you see a big bunch of birds all sitting together are they discussing politics and foreign affairs or are they just having their bi-annual social affair?

When flies rub their weird little hands together are they plotting their final revenge on humans? Yes. Flies will be the end of us.

Why do we believe in all these strategies, crystals and methods to achieve happiness? Why don’t we just do exactly as we want when we want and devote little time to things we don’t care for?

Similarly, why don’t we care about things more and more deeply. Care so it rips at our gut and rattles our hearts and leaves us all broken and heavy and wet with sad. Probably because no one likes being damp. I get it.

Why are eggs so damn good when in reality they are absolutely foul, little porcelain sacks of slippery sick.

Why do we read books, go to seminars, listen to podcasts and quote bad quotes in search of “meaning”? Why don’t we just do things like we mean it and put meaning into the things we do?

Why do we think liking tea is a personality trait? It’s not.

Why do people pay to go to a place and walk on a conveyer belt. Why not just walk on the ground and actually get somewhere?

Why don’t we still do book parades like we did in school? Imagine a huge parade through the city every year where we all dressed up as our favourite books. Now that, that would be magic.

Why do people even like breakfast in bed? I can’t eat lying down.

Do you think leopards wear human skin as cute blouses and sexy slips when they go to the club?

Why do we search for “the one” why not just “one of”?

Why do we fly kites? Not being existential or anything, I just don’t get it?

And look at that, it’s morning.