I stare at the bloodshot eyes that hid behind the small black sunglasses that holds together with amended staplers bullets at both hinges which in turn hides behind the falling hairs of the owner. The smokes from the wore out and self-made symbols carving on the dark brown pipe which hangs loosely on his lips giving a momentary veil to his brownish pale skins and his tired face. He wore nothing more than a hoodie that is adorned with silver pattern and twinkling diamonds that ever changing in color to suit his body’s mood, in addition to the black two sizes too big boxer that is tighten at the side with a rubber band to fit his small and malnourished waist. His body was covered with scars of past history and tattoos of forgotten memories, the only colors seen was his wrist band of red, yellow and green plus the wooden carved Cannabis Leaf necklace that dances with his motions. From afar his wrist band looks as if it’s made of nothing more than wools but the colors seems to radiate in a waves of its perspective colors according to the surrounding’s symphony of dubstep reggae that echoed the room. I saw him taking his Marijuana Leaf necklace and kissing it multiple of times as if to show his gratitude and respect to the plant that it represents. That when I realize, I was kissing my necklace. Fuck this dude is me. Shit. This is one strong fucking stimulant. This perceptive altering stimulant that I bought from that tricycle 7 years old kid from the alley is something completely new, quite enjoyable. Feeling like a little kid again.
I packed another pipe full of the substance and walked out to the balcony while the sounds of Jr. Gong Marley 2.0 play in its dubstep rhythm. If you are not familiar with this sound maybe it’s best for me to explain that this is not what it seems, I am not exactly sure what year it is. We lost count when we meet the alien civilization during my grandfather days. Now the calendars are mixed with ours and theirs and others galaxy. It completely changed from that Jesus Christ landmark to the actual date and year of our sun. Most people completely ignore the whole year and time keeping business and just got along without it. Anyways, Jr. Gong 2.0 is the clone copy of the legendary Bob Marley’s son. The Reggae industry apparently resurrects both Bob and Damien Marley because the industry was dying thanks to the overwhelming sound systems from other planets. Well whatever, reggae is died. It has become a classic and only a few still listen to them. I am a fucking romantic for this genre of music for a reason I have yet to understand. Jah bless whatever brain cell left in this fucked up brain of mine. I stand outside my balcony staring at the view that is before me. Layers after layers of black buildings covered by High Definition Holographic projection of any sorts of money making, brain washing Advertisements while the hundredths floor level below me is filled with the traffic of anti-gravity vehicles and the floors above me is filled with spacecrafts making their landings and departures from whatever distant planets or dimensions they are from. The sky is no longer light up with the stars like the olden days but rather a mirror reflection of the electrical circuits that lies in each electronic device.
I checked my little green buddy in the tiny self-made capsule at the corner of my balcony. Tiny little thing but it is perhaps the last ever surviving cannabis plant on earth. You see in my time, conscious altering stimulants are a common thing. We have drugs from any level of potency for any sizes and types of brains from the baby LSD to the Pilot Jones of Orange Pyramid Galaxy. No mind is safe from getting fucked by the Chemist. Cannabis has been extinct since the Great Galaxy Civil War, thus this tiny little plant of mine would cost a huge sum of cash for this stoner. That if I don’t smoke it up by myself. It is very tempting haven’t tried it in my entire life, cost me my left nut just to get this seed. Maybe I do the right thing and let it grow and expand its seed. Fuck my head is spinning again.
The world and reality seems to balances on a central hinge at the tip of my nose, vibrating on its separate planes of my eyes according to the broken beat rhythms that caress my earlobes with her sweet tongue of Rastafarification bliss. I sat right back down on the sofa of my living room after a hard struggle across the knee deep garbage of electrical wirings, left-over stimulants and alcohol bottles plus all of the other garbage that me and my fat flying cat could conjured. Talking about that floating piece of furball, I think you ought to know about his catzapp addictions. You see in my time our pets are designs biologically to any stupid ideas that the half a peanut brain customers could imagine. That cat of mine was my ex-girlfriend’s idea. She thought it would be cute to see an obese, small legged, color changing furs cat to be floating on wings. I felt sorry for that poor sucker’s wings to go through a life of slavering torture. I wonder how much fatter can the can be before that wing snaps forever. And you can imagine the amount of crap that drops like pile of stinking atomic bomb in this house? Don’t forget how this fat bitch of a cat whores around the alleyways just to get a fix of her junkie habits. Don’t even get me started with the local pounds on these stray animals, the whole systems is corrupted with bribes from the Tribes of Mafia pets. Sounds cute and furry don’t it? Let see if you think a flying bulldog with the teeth of a great white shark attacking you with subatomic machine guns just to let his boss fuck your wife sounds like a cute and furry scenario to you.
Now just because it aint cute as it sounds don’t think these furry fuckers are taking over, no in fact with the amount of sentient (part-man, part-aliens/animals) are so big they can be considered as the majority of this planet. Not to forget the alien races and cyborgs those roam the poor mother earth. Nah these pets are the least of our worries. And though this all may sounds strange to you but remember there was a time where having computers in homes were the wealthy and marrying another race was considered a sin in some countries. So basically in my time, your present civilization looks like those who thought the earth was flat and that man can’t fly. You guys are the one who is cute and furry to us. So little troubles in the world and so ignorant. And who knows my present would seem like a primitive tribe for future historians.
I found myself dancing like a craze octopus in the shimmering luminescence of the LED monitors of the olden times, you know during the days without wallpaper interactive screens. The crazy beats of the rhythms from this great playlist I managed to found in the hard-drives of the laptops owned by the famous art-revolutionaries of the Punk Chic Movement. I rather not named them, for I dont wish to disrupt the past with heavy informations. All you need to know is that in my times they are considered as one of the elites from the Brotherhood of The Black Palate. These were the original hustlers who brought the real meaning of swag. In your present time, these gentlemen and ladies of the Minut Init Revolution could be put in the same respect of the Picasso and Salvador Dali effects on the arts while shifting paradigms of philosophy such as Sigmund Freud & Frederic Nietzsche, or creating awareness to spiritual enlightenment using transcendental substances just as Timothy Leary and Aldous Huxley help the sixties revolution, so did these boys in creating your future, my present. But unlike your civilization taboos on these aspects, my generation put a high priority on the important missions of their revolution. These guys are straight class gentlemen; we see them as our Founding Fathers writing the First Declaration of Independence. Unfortunately in my time, their true words are often corrupted since no one could find the original data and megabytes from each of their cybernetic footprints. No matter how you interpret the great history of these men, the world was never the same again. Gaia was reborn with these boys. True inspirations, my heroes. My Moses who set the slave of the world free from the tyrant corruption. I often dream of them riding the chariots of Wisdom on the back of Lion of Judah flying across the sky spreading Informative Enlightenments and Creative Bliss to the sorry people who probably dont even deserve it for not understanding the full importance of these men. Jah how I envy to even see them walking down the streets. You moron are so blinded with your hatred till the point where you can’t see greatness even if they pee gold and shit diamonds in front of you.
Now all this seems vulgar and strange to you but it is my present. If you are reading this, the chances are I am far ahead of your time. I am your future. This piece of written work may seem odd for your time but in mine this would be inside one of those magazines about life which nobody reads about. It’s one of the boring sections that is normally filled with old citizens complaining about the young people. My name is NA23.5 and this is my story. This is our story. This is the future. IF you dont like this future then i would suggest you to listen to what was said by Spider Jerusalem : GO FUCK YOURSELF!
Zero Ducks Given 