Looper

I keep on doing the same old things out of sheer force of habit. It happens to me all the time like a hole that I keep falling into because it’s too big and too deep not to fall into. Every time I get up in the morning there’s the hole right in front of me and straightaway I fall right down into it! And then that’s it for the day. Does that kind of thing ever happen to you? Just joking there. Just my little joke. Sheer force of habit. Same old things, same old things, sheer force of habit. Just my little joke. Heh heh heh. Does that ever? Does that ever? I keep on doing the same old things, thinking the same old things, writing the same old things. It’d be annoying if I actually realized. It’d drive me cracked. We have to be grateful for small mercies I suppose. You see at the same time that I keep on falling into the same old patterns an anaesthetic gas is being released from a cylinder outside in the corridor. Can you hear the barely perceptible hissing in the background? That’s the regulator on the cylinder releasing the gas in measured amounts. In precisely calculated amounts. I don’t really notice the hissing myself – I don’t notice it because it’s been a part of my life for far too long. Sheer force of habit, sheer force of habit. Does that ever happen to you? That’s a silly question of course because you’d never know if it did – the mechanism works like clockwork. It’s perfectly calibrated. Every time you fall back into the same old pattern, the same old routine the anaesthetic gas gets released in measured amounts and so you never actually notice that the thing that’s happening now is the same thing that’s always been happening. You’d don’t know that anything has happened – or rather you don’t know that nothing has happened because because when you do the same thing over and over again you’re doing nothing. Nothing’s happening – you’re just stuck in a loop. You’re looping it, you’re a looper. He’s a bit of a looper that lad, people will say. Bit of a looper, bit of a looper. People will come up to you on the street and say “Excuse me but do you realize you’re looping?” You never hear them though – the air is full of halothane. Concerned passers-by stop you on the street “Excuse me,” they say, “but do you realize you’re looping?” You never hear them though. You never see them either. You never feel them come up to you and touch your shoulder, trying to jolt you out of it. Perhaps you think it was the wind. You’re too busy doing your loop, you’re too busy sucking halothane. Breathing it in, breathing it in. Excuse me do you know you’re looping?  Do you know? Do you know that you’re looping. That you’re looping. That you’re looping. That you’re looping. Looping. Looping. You’re not just looping though – you are the loop. You are the loop that you are looping. You’re not just the loop, you’re the looper. You’re the looper and you’re the loop. You’re the looper you’re the blooper. You’re the full package – the only problem is, there’s nothing in it!

 

 

 

 

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