thought dream 030309

The injections aren't working.

Or they're working, but not in the way we planned.

I can see the future now - but only glimpses of night scenes in which nothing happens. A car waiting at a light. A drunk man trying to unlock his front door at four in the morning. My wife brushing her hair in the dark.

Except for the birds.

Those erupt in broad daylight: loud, flapping, squawking, cackling birds up in a blinding sky.

I always find myself in the middle of the flock, struggling to keep up.

Sometimes, I can understand their language.

This has been a severe disappointment.

They are stupid creatures, yapping constantly about food or hissing at each other in petty squabbles.

They shit frequently in the middle of conversations and become easily distracted by objects on the ground.

They have no literature, no art, no conception of history, religion or politics.

I mention Joyce and Kafka but am forever met with blank stares and "Food, food, food, food, food."

The future, thus far, has been disappointing. We will continue our experiments tomorrow.