Far Sense

You know what didn’t happen? The dang end of the world. It’s not over. I’m not dead, neither are you. You might think you are, I understand that, but listen, I don’t know why you would think that. I also don’t care if you feel defeated, because you are not. You are alive, even as you breathe. Good enough, right? You’re an average citizen of this globe, you afford groceries or possibly electricity, if I may be so bold.

Welcome. Welcome to it. Welcome to the mythical cosmos waiting to be yours but oh wait, you’re dead.

You’re dead now, you died, you actually died earlier, but I kept talking because that’s what I do. You can too, if you only believe. But don’t copy my style, fools. I said you were dying, because the past is gone. But in you stands a new you, always on the lookout for the fresh new thing. Me too, it’s how I get such fresh beats.

Let’s go tell them. You know, those guys. Some people, let’s be happy about this, fuck it.

But, we’ve got more important fish to fry, like how one hop skip and a jump land on the next. Who is this guy ‘me’ as I like to call myself? Let me inform you.

My name is Keith Bingham. I write words, because I like to, but that’s too simple of an answer, let’s make this more complex. I like to write. That get’s to the point harder, I believe.

You know, this little nib of a pen all crammed and bent carving these dang words into rocks. You feel me dog, you are the average person. The everyman. I am, you are, he is, she is, whatever.

This telegram came in for this one guy, he was a guy that was living in your house, you have a house, you have a garage, you live in a castle, because this is my story I’m telling.

You’ll like it.

Check this out, this telegram was from the police.

No! Not the police, I mean, this telegram was from King Edward I, who was your friend who lived in your neighborhood. He was officially a king as much as he could drink beer. And boy could he drink beer. A lot of it.

It was an invitation to a beer-drinking contest, and the stars of this program were you and him.

Suddenly, your wall exploded and standing there was none other than King Edward I himself, in the beer-drinking flesh DRINKING A BEER.

AHHHH! You screamed. You screamed just like that. AHHHH!

King Edward I is cool as fuck, you reply.

Thanks for liking my story.

The End