Lollywrapper Mantra

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Fantasy  |  House: Booksie Classic

Psuedoreminiscing on the things that never happened




I saunter through the bar
I’m an imposter with my half grin
check out this scene of devastation

a little hip flick here, a little head flick there
a coy exaggerated wink, a salute,
a cheesy thumbs up
a flashy teethy grin,
a pathetic high five, one Weeow Yeah
I top it all off
sashaying on past, poppin em all with a bit of love
making my way home again

all of a sudden I'm stopped, whisked away
swept across the scene under the wing of a girl
she’s tall and leggy with sandy dreadlocks
her shawl billowed in the breeze
she strode like an Olympic athlete
I was caught in her whirlwind of perfume
fancy eau de toilette vanilla airwick aerosol
head bobbing, eyes glazed,
her lips moving cackling laughter like burnt out Shane MacGowan
she’s hissing
mock whispering
her voice rasping things at me
and she flicked her hair like an aging drag queen
excitedly telling me things I didn’t really care about
I smiled and nodded and I laughed professionally
and let her whisk me away like it was celebrity stuff hour

I was an out of touch rockstar with nothing better to do

we were talking about some shit that I only really half heard amongst the roar of the crowd
and things were spilling from the voids of my mind
which sometimes gets a bit uncontrollable and embarrassing
and sometimes it’s a thing of great cosmic and wise intrinsic deep meaning and insight
but I clam up a bit this time and let her do most the talking, which I’m glad
because there were well dressed bodies standing around the bar
well clad gentlemen lingering sipping drinks
bodies slouching over seats, leaning over tables
and distant fields of conversations drifting through background chattering
glasses clinking spilling conversations mingling resonating in the background
celebrations popping flourescent lights glowing distracting me
and the chaos of the surrounding energies are blinding me
as she kept rasping at me about things I didn’t care about
I caught snippets from the background chatters that Sigmund Freud would have a field day with
and I’m drifting through the fields of chatter as I’m spattering out the spilling thoughts and feelings I got from the void and the things I thought I was supposed to say in return
when before I know it, I don’t even remember what the fuck I was talking about
or what I even just said at all
I worried if what I said had any meaning, or if it had none at all
that can happen to me sometimes
I trail off on discontinued thoughts and broken sentences
and random words slung along in a string, pale, poorly structured, insignificant
sometimes I have too much filter, sometimes I have none at all
sometimes I think I’m at the brink of my next colossal mental meltdown that’s been rumbling up forever

I was aware everything seemed strongly unnatural
which was my imposter syndrome kicking in
I can tell I’ll never really have enough beer to be able to bond with this lady hysterically
I wasn’t really listening much
I wasn’t really listening there at all
forging autonomic responses subconsciously, autonomously
pentatonically my mind was wandering constantly enduring the no-holds-barred suffering
of the conversations I didn’t care about

I snicker as my mind drifts and twists through the existential landscapes
of whys this and whys that and whys the fucks that only birthed more of the same
my neverending everlasting mutating stupendous question marks

I’ve been stuck in a repetitive thought loop about nothing
so I’m scrunching up a piece of plastic in my pocket  
and I said some kind of description-cum-analogy -which by the way is a real grammar thing
Cum can be used to join two nouns together
and it was a Freudian slip, my analogy
she acted like she didn't notice but I still backpedalled a little bit before giving up
taking a moment of rest upon the wind
I find a generic excuse to insert in
then I slip away with a big fake genuine smile tipping my drink to her, You’re Hilarious, Sharon

I’m sashaying through the scene, swishing my hair up in a bun
there are some well dressed bodies lolling around in this place
and then I was lolling in to walls in the toilet
like a rockstar who needs a private jet,
silently inventing snickering-out-loud funny
comical comedic
worst-anxiety-come-true insurance ads
I’m staring vacantly at the bottle of ThankYou handwash, and closely examining my hands
Thank You, don't know where I'd be without ya
I’ve been lolling through devastation most my life

I sashayed on through the next scene pretending to care
where that big sandy girl who’s name wasn’t Sharon but I had no hope of remembering
had those conversations with me I that didn’t care about
I applied some lipstick and pretended it was equivalent to getting my life in order
a sneaky thought slowly crept in to my line of thinking
and I was laughing to myself at nothing
silently repeating my thoughts
crinkling the plastic in my pocket
it sings me a crinkly sacred lollywrapper mantra
in my mind canyon is a thunderstorm of crinkles and nothingness

I’m back in the midst of it all, and I’ve accidentally made eye contact across the room
it stops me in my tracks, I could tell he was one of those clever broody thinker types
he just seemed like a first class fellow of a really extraordinary caliber
a feeling washed over me, like fondly reminiscing
but only this feeling was for things that hadn't happened
wide eyed, I listened with my iris

I glide away like I’m a breadstick
there’s no in-between flapping my arms like they’re drowning propellors failing me

the world stopped and smiled at me
the only real sound I could hear was my crinkle rustle pitter patter crinkling as I shimmied past
rustling the plastic in my pocket distracted by my melancholy psuedoreminiscent ghost of some lost past future psuedomemory
unsure why I got psuedonostalgic for things that never happened
then life ticked by again
the background music sang in again, it was closer and louder
life rustled by again, moment by moment, frame by frame
flicking frames blinking endless distant mingling calls and laughter once again swung me away
and I’m here again once more, leaning against the rail, lighting a casual cigarette
and with the leisurely lo-fi buzz and sway of the scumptuous summer fantasy dreams blurring in my minds eye
I imagined he was still there beside me, his eyes shining in the light

The world sets darkly back in and the silent stillness filled voids of repellant infinite chaos are kinda shifting
I fill the air with the crinkle of my plastic lollywrapper mantra, my self control my undead existence, thinking I should make my way home again
I’m hanging pretty thick in the air, encircling myself with my sweet solitude
so I step back through the room, forgetting whatever it was that I had even went over there looking for

I wander past in a thunderstorm of quiet crinkling and nothingness
and there he is again
standing in the middle of it all, looking kinda dazed and confused
and the psuedoreminisce for the things that never happened grip me coldly by the throat again
bubbling up
ricocheting my sense around
I wonder whether there is a German word to describe it

I pretend I was not just lost in my monstrous fractal chaos of a void
blindly opening random doors in my cerebral cortex
in my endless crinkly viscerally satisfying loops
patting myself a soothing drumbeat, I shimmy through the scene
I’m straight and tall
but I’m not really there at all
I have got something important to think about, like I should plan something cool to say
but then I should have another cool thing to say back in return
maybe we can have some kind of deep and meaningful socratic debate about the whole ordeal or somethin
and who knows, maybe even some kind of ultimate salvation will arise when I unlock myself from that good for nothing brain of mine
but I dig deepish inside, and I get absolutely nothing
I’m blinded, lost on the surface of the black hole ravaged glacier
blank after that man just burnt in to my retina
I drift off in to a black and distant hole in the ether
that lingering psuedoreminisce stayed on my skin
like there was something I should remember

he gave me foggy sentimental eyes
and made me psuedonostalgic for the things that never happened
winging me back to some heady days, tasting the ghosts of my lost futures and pasts
for a moment I was just a spiralling spinning neverending weightless rippling twisting celestial feather
it was hard to get a lot of detail about him on board
because he was shimmering in a haze of opalescence
I felt all warm and nostalgic for the stuff that never happened
as the background music sang in again, it was closer and louder, and life ticked by again
scene by scene
flicking obscenely endless blinking distant calls and voices
and laughter swung me back away from it all

and then I’m here once more again, leaning against the rail, lighting a casual cigarette
with the languid lo-fi buzz and sway of a scrumptuous voluptuous summer dream
in my minds eye he was still there beside me, his eyes sparkle in the half light

I cranked up my sacred lollywrapper mantra, waving it in the air,
my surrender flag trying to acknowledge a friend for help
I smiled and nodded on the edge of her circle until the conversation opened up
enough for me to interject something embarrassing about nothing  
but I was soon winged back again through the thoughts from more heady days where my BBQs were frequent and things were right within the world and I wasn’t created and destroyed by things I love and things I hate

the lightning bolts of satisfying experiences that I can’t explain
make me turn the other way
and I’m smiling about nothing

I imagine for a moment about us thinking each others thoughts
they shift and merge me like gases doing a Brownian dance
with a soft sun dapple of glowy dew-kissed sunlit flowers rippling air vibrations
cascading elations humming me warm
in the chill of the winter it is the summer of summers and the heaven of heavens
I’m awoken fresh
all nostalgic for the shit that never happened
like it’s the very start, the very end, of everything and nothing

i felt all nostalgic for stuff that never happened
the background music sings in again, louder and closer and gold
it’s a great time it’s a great classic hit
it’s a warm lullaby birthing brilliant arcs of purest smiles
a slow strobe cradling hyperexposure ticking time along frame by frame by frame by flickering scene obscenely endless blinking endless instants and ghosts of lost pasts or futures that are  not yet pasts
the warm saccade of thoughts glow rocking waves of gentle breeze of distant calls and murmurs
and ice cubes clinking tinking in my glass, cola swirling, glittery, a limpid cadenza of cascading waves crescending neverending
someone clinks my glass and I grin
the muffled sounds of life seep back in through my reassuring walls
i'm surrounded, here alone once more again, leaning against the rail
along with my cigarette and my crinkly lollywrapper mantra
and the delicate low-fi buzz and sway of the sumptuous voluptuous summer dream
singing to me oh so sweetly

In my mind eye, I'm surrounded by light

a pile of smashed corn chips catch my eye
they’re glittering in the aisle
I saunter through the bar
an imposter with my half grin



Submitted: October 02, 2018

© Copyright 2022 Not for Everyone. All rights reserved.

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Add Your Comments:



Pretty good. Some great lines. I like pseudoreminising. There's a time element I find intriguing.

Sun, February 10th, 2019 11:17pm


great visual - I can really 'see' what is going on here - keep up the good work

Tue, August 27th, 2019 11:16pm

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