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My mind and memory have been cut into five minute segments by television, perfectly sized for commercial interruptions but totally unsuited to weaving narratives and constructing stories.

So I sit at the side of a temple, kneeling like they kneel in the movies, with the arches of my feet pointing to the rise of the steps of the greyish Aztec pyramid, facing the camera with a contemplative look on my face. I think, and think, and think, about looking like I am thinking. I wonder about what I am supposed to be thinking about, but the mobile greenery keeps actualizing itself into my imagination.

I have a choice to make here.

To think about exploring the greenery, or the global capitalist connotations of the word "actualize." I choose neither.

I choose.

The choice is at my fingertips.

The world is at my fingertips.

My fingertips ache from playing guitar like Kurt Cobain, but he only plays power chords, so my fingers must ache from playing like Tom Morello.

Who is Tom Morello?

There is something that drips off the edge of the step I kneel on, and I decide to contemplate it. The liquid runs off the edge of the temple, down toward the ground colored like Quik. It does not bubble and fizz as it moves so it is not Sprite. It strangely lacks the color that I find in most other liquids. It is not brown like Pepsi, green like Mountain Dew, or pink like that disgusting cream soda my girlfriend buys at the Real Canadian Superstore, except in British Columbia where they call the same store or something like it Loblaws.

That name makes me contemplate throwing something. I remember vomiting over the side of a sharp balcony when I was a teenager, late at night after too many Smirnoff Ice and Bacardi, and its your birthday but I've already threw up all the Bacardi I was going to drink. I've used the word contemplate once too many, or twice too many things that I would like to think about.

There was a person that once knelt beside me on this temple step on an Aztec pyramid in a casino in Las Vegas beside the Star Trek exhibition that I've always wanted to see but never had the chance to make the chance to find out how I am but I never really knew what you wanted to find the things that can complete me, like a nutritious balanced breakfast of your favorite cereal killer and that is such a cliche because just because it rhymes doesn't mean that it's clever or interesting or profound like that word because its other form is profundity and I like words that follow an f with a u.

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