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Short Attention Span Fiction

stupid sad song middle 8

Written by Scotto, lyrics by Unsane
Date: Mon, 05 Oct 1998 17:13:11 -0700

is there a call or letter that can save my heart, now?
the dogs are loose and they're not coming back, now
he's in the dream time and he's lost all track, now
i should have stopped, i shoulda listened to my fear, yeah

"the number you have dialed has been disconnected or is no longer in service. please hang up and try your call again. the number you have dialed has been disconnected or is no longer in service. please hang up and try your call again. the number you have dialed has been disconnected or is no longer in service. please hang up and try your call again. the number you have dialed has been disconnected or is no longer in service. please hang up and put the phone down before you hurt someone. the number you have dialed has been disconnected or is no longer taking calls from someone like you. please hang up and put the phone down before you hurt someone. the number you have dialed has been withdrawn from reality or is no longer taking calls from someone like you. please hang up and put the phone down before you hurt someone. the number you have had memorized since the moment you first saw it and will never ever forget it because it means so much has been withdrawn from reality or is no longer taking calls from someone like you. please hang up and put the phone down before you hurt someone. the image of the most beautiful person you have ever seen, an image you have had memorized since the moment you first saw it and will never ever forget because it means so much, has been withdrawn from reality or is no longer taking calls from someone like you. please hang up and put the phone down before you hurt someone. the image of a life worth living has been disconnected or is no longer in service. please hang yourself and put the phone down before you hurt someone. you should know, now, at this critical juncture, that there was never another person on the line; each incoming call is routed to the phone company's vast database of artificial neural nets, which can access millions of previous situations in order to compose the appropriate response to your every statement or question, at speeds that are undetectable by casual human observers. needless to say the post office has been employing similar technology for decades. please hang up and try your call again."

all across america, during one eight hour stretch of time, somehow, some way, each and every dog-owning household somehow forgot to lock the back door, and the dogs got out. every last single dog in the entire fucking country. they roamed the land, shutting down highways with their relentless vehicle chasing, taking over the city streets with their relentless energy and biting abilities, joining forces with the wolves of the woods and learning cleverness beyond measure so that when the men with the gas and the guns finally mobilized, even the cats joined the movement to tear these humans apart. i stayed in my third story apartment during those days, eying the lizard in its aquarium, wondering when the cat would finally go for the jugular instead of the feet.

i dreamt quite recently that we had converged upon a large university, probably in seattle, and the student rioting that has been prevalent in other parts of the world for months now had finally broken loose in the united states. it was time to demand our rights, time to take the country back. the police were out in force, and we took the high ground, hurling rocks with reckless abandon, our adrenaline pumping with the notion that this truly was the now of it, things would never be the same. we saw the looting begin, and the violence begin; one man toppled a tall lamp post only to have it land upon him and cut him in half, a sight that i may never forget. we took to running in the university tunnels in small groups, hoping to stay alive, keeping our collective spirits up. you were there, unsane, and i distinctly remember a few others. eventually as the police closed in, i began to realize that these were the end days indeed, and i had made a terrible mistake, all those years ago, giving up my faith in what was Right. we had been left behind, and the riots were a precursor to the arrival of the archangels, who quickly began sealing us into our individual hells. i remember the heat beginning to increase; i remember my desire to lose my mind before the pain set in, and the realization that part of the definition of "hell" would be that that was not allowed.

you cannot but listen to your fear, it should almost go without saying. half the time it's lying to you, which is the main problem in the first place.

is there a call or letter that can save my heart, now?
the dogs are loose and they're not coming back, now
he's in the dream time and he's lost all track, now
i should have stopped, i shoulda listened to my fear, yeah


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