Midnight–8 A.M.: Vividly hallucinate while paralyzed atop a cushion-topped box of metal springs.
8-8:05 A.M.: A small plastic box generates fast-moving vibrations strong enough for my eardrums to register them and communicate to my brain that it is time to switch from a hallucinating state to a state of gathering food and information. I smack the box.
8:05-8:15 A.M.: Spin a dial to release water that has travelled from the top of a mountain through a maze of lead pipes onto my outermost epidermal layer in order to rinse away the salty liquid that my body secreted through thousands of holes while I was hallucinating.
8:15-8:17 A.M.: Agitate a brush created by children halfway around the world to remove minuscule invisible creatures from the bones in my mouth that I use to turn all my food into soup before swallowing it. Spit out excess soap that is chemically designed to taste like food, but isn’t. “Forget” to floss.
8:17-8:20 A.M.: Tunnel my body into shapes made from interwoven threads of dyed plant refuse which have been pieced together by poor people a third of the way around the world to match the shapes of my limbs and my trunk.
8:20-8:23 A.M.: Tunnel my body into a different set of interwoven threads because the first one didn’t satisfactorily create the illusion that my body is desirably healthy for copulation as judged by a theoretical stranger whom I may encounter during the day.
8:23-8:25 A.M.: Look for my wallet.
8:25-9 A.M.: Strap myself into a small rocket-room that is powered by the burnt remains of prehistoric kelp, in which I avoid dying by spinning a plastic circle wrapped in optional cow skin.
9-9:15 A.M.: Arrive at a cement cube that I don’t own and consume a bitter, addictive toxin that tricks my brain into thinking it’s more awake than it is.
9:15-11:30 A.M.: Wiggle ten bony protrusions coming off the ends of my arms over a grid of plastic-covered springs to make numbers and letters appear on a light panel aimed at my eyes.
11:30-11:31 A.M.: Hear the intricate pattern of vibrations that others use to address me, and triangulate its source to a little man who decides whether or not I provide value to the people who own the cement cube.
11:31 A.M.-Noon: Use my mouth and my throat to send vibrations back at the little man to persuade him that the numbers and letters on my light panel are “marketable to millennials.”
Noon-1 P.M.: Repeatedly slam my aforementioned soup-making bones together to more easily swallow the flesh of a bird and turn it into parts of myself.
1-3:29 P.M.: Continue wiggling my ten bony protrusions over the grid of plastic-covered springs. Certain chemicals squirting through my brain tag this experience as unpleasant, while other chemicals, from a different part of my brain, override this unpleasantness, because past experience has taught me that wiggling my bony protrusions will lead to acquiring paper that I can use to obtain more bird flesh, which I require for life.
3:29-3:29.5 P.M.: Consider violating ingrained social norms and walking out of cement cube because it’s not enough paper.
3:29.5-3:30 P.M.: Remember that it’s better than no paper at all.
3:30-3:38 P.M.: Sit on a fixture of hardened white clay and expel any bird flesh that my body was not able to turn into itself.
3:38-4 P.M.: Play Free Chess App Lite atop the white clay fixture, even though I finished expelling a while ago.
4-6 P.M.: Continue wiggling my ten bony protrusions. Chemicals squirting through my brain ramp up the associated feelings of unpleasantness, while other chemicals compensate by inducing hallucinations of desirable activities, such as vibrations I might emit to Jessica to make her like me.
6-6:38 P.M.: Re-strap myself into my rocket-room and push a button that prompts the generation of vibrations that were recorded from the mouths of four attractive teen-agers who live more than three thousand miles away. Harry Styles ain’t bad.
6:38-7:50 P.M.: Press buttons on a plastic box to pulse electromagnetic waves at a Styrofoam cup full of elbow-shaped wheat and edible chemicals that resemble cheese enough to trick my brain into thinking that they are cheese. Use a piece of rounded metal mined from under the crust of the Earth by people I don’t know to stir together the wheat and the chemicals, carry them toward my chin, and burn a flap of exposed muscle in my mouth which is the only body part of mine that allows me to taste.
7:50-11:28 P.M.: Watch reruns of “Frasier.”
11:28-11:35 P.M.: Use aforementioned Chinese-child-made brush to scrub away any scraps of bird flesh or elbow-shaped wheat that my exposed muscle flap was unable to relocate into the tube that leads to the bag of acid in my midsection.
11:35-11:59 P.M.: Climb onto my cushion-topped box of metal springs. Leak salty liquid from the inside corners of my eyes while chemicals in my brain re-create the images and the sounds of all of my past failures.
11:59 P.M.-Midnight: Smile thinking about how I am unique and in control of my destiny, until my brain restarts its vivid hallucinations. ♦
