Think!? (a short story)

I was tooling down the road and saw a sign saying, “Think!” and I started thinking, That’s a good point. I don’t think enough. So what should I think about? Well, how about Mary’s ass? Man alive! I can see it swishing now. But she doesn’t seem very interested in me. Maybe I am too pale? That’s it, I suppose. I don’t get enough sun. I probably look like a ghost. I wonder what it feels like to be a ghost? A ghost looks spectral to us, so does that mean that we would look spectral to them? I don’t even understand how a ghost could see at all, given that they appear to be 2-D and all. I guess they can see, but they can probably only see 2-D equivalents of us, sort of like the way we see characters on TV. Think! Think! Yep, there I go drifting again. I need to control what I think about and not let my mind wander all over hell and back.

So maybe Mary would like me better if I had more education? What if I got an MBA at State U? What I’d really like is to get a sexologist degree from Scru U®. Hahaha! I’m so goddamn funny! Hahaha. Mary’s ass. Ah. I can picture my hands on her bare, firm hips now, her laying on her stomach, me gently separating her hips, my tongue sending her to worlds she’s never dreamed of, her hips pulsating and thrusting against my face, her turning over and putting me inside her, and me giving her the best 15 seconds of her life. Yeah. I guess I really should see the doctor about that. Maybe there are some pills that can keep me from being such a Speedy Gonzales.

WHOA! That bastard in the old Ford Mustang just missed me! Probably texting. People don’t pay any attention anymore.

I tell you I’ve got some doubts about technology. People are always saying how great technology is and all, but seems to me like it’s as much of a bad thing as it is a good thing. Especially those damn smartphones everyone has, always texting and emailing each other. And there’s no telling what kind of technology the government is keeping secret. What if the NSA is actually reading my mind right now? Would they know that I think about sex like ALL THE TIME? Shit. They would even be able to figure out that I like Mary, and they could be spooking her away from me, spreading rumors and shit. Oh man! What if the NSA is actually CONTROLLING my thoughts? What if I really don’t care that much for Mary, but NSA is planting thoughts of her in my mind for their own purposes as part of some government conspiracy to ensure we are a nation without homosexuals, with sexual relations between only men and women, no matter what one’s subconscious wants one to do?

Worse yet, what if I am really dead and these thoughts are the ones Bruce Keener is thinking I had right before I died, and there is no real me, because I have no thoughts of my own, and my existence is limited to the thoughts that monkeyboner Bruce Keener thinks for me? I mean, think about it. How could you know whether you are really dead or alive? How do you know the thoughts “you”have are yours? What if nobody exists but Bruce Keener, and what if he is even just a figment of his own imagination and is like some Boltzmann Brain that just popped into existence three seconds ago?

Why does my back only itch where I can’t reach it and while I’m driving? It never bothers me when I’m just sitting around at home. Or why does my pecker only itch when I am around people and can’t scratch it without looking like a doofuss? Speaking of which, I’m going to have to find an exit with a service station pretty soon before I pee all over myself.

Think!

Man it’s hard to do. No wonder so many people are getting into meditation. It probably gives them a few minutes a day where their minds are not filled with a thousand thoughts at once. Can you imagine being The President and having to think about hard stuff all day long and even into the night? Man, my brain would explode.

Anyway, so what I need to think about is how to get Mary to like me, really like me. Getting some extra sun is not going to be all that hard. I can even do a tanning bed thing if it comes down to it. But what about that MBA? Can I really find the time to get a degree, even if I do it online? I mean, it still takes time, and mental energy, and plain old hard work, even when it’s done online. I need to find out if Mary likes her fellows to have higher degrees. I wish I had something to write that down on so I won’t forget it. It would be a shame if I went through all of the effort to get another degree only to find out that she thinks that the uber-educated are stuffy, eccentric, and nerdy.

I wonder how Mom’s doing. Maybe I should try to spend a little time with her. Maybe take her out to dinner one weekend soon? I know she misses Dad.

I wonder if Mary has a mom. I mean I know she wasn’t hatched like a chicken, but is her mom still living and all? Wouldn’t it be neat if she is as witchily gorgeous as Mary and has an ass like Mary’s, all graceful and capable of hypnotizing a man’s soul?

What if NSA really is reading my mind? Shouldn’t I choose my wording more carefully, then? Maybe sound more educated. Like maybe instead of saying capable of hypnotizing, I should say can induce hypnosis and unleash Freudian desire deep within a man’s soul? Or is that just too fucking pretentious? After all, I am a country boy. Thank God I’m A Country Boy! Come out of your grave John Denver …we need you. You too, John Lennon! Anybody here seen my old friend John? Can you tell me where he’s gone?

I sure am glad I saw that sign. It’s gotten me to do more focused thinking than I’ve done in months. I need to work on getting better at it, but I least I have an action item now. Which was what? Shit! From now on I carry a pen and paper with me wherever I go.

Looks like it might rain. We sure have had a lot of rain this year. I’m glad I don’t have to work outside for a living.

WHOA! Goddamn car. Another texting driver?

Hmm, that’s odd. I seem to be looking down on a burning car and that looks like me all crumpled up beside it! What’s that you say? Ah, yes. I understand now. It wasn’t the other driver who was not paying attention, it was me. My drifting mind caused me to kill that young woman who was driving home to her husband and child, not to mention that I killed me too.

I wish real life could have been like it is at this instant, where I could have seen the consequences of my actions before taking them, just as I now see that young woman’s child become a drug addict as he tries to smother out the pain of not having his mother. If I had just known, I would have lived differently. For sure. I think.

Things seem to be getting a little gray, probably because my energy is starting to disperse. Physics can be a bummer, man. Unconfined energy is going to disperse, no way around it.

So this is how it ends, huh? Now things are fading to black.

Oh well. Maybe I’ll reincarnate as a pair of Mary’s panties. Or maybe I’ll actually meet The Transcendent. Or I’ll go straight to purgatory while my eternal fate is decided. Or