Tonka trucks
While I was out the other night, sipping some form of that bastard alcohol from a fishbowl someone else had bought, I happened to glance up at the ceiling.There I found a host of criss-crossing splatter marks from a hundred thrown drinks and whatever else. I called myself at home.
"Explosions of liquor on the ceiling" I said into the phone, after I listen to myself making strange noises on the answering machine message.
I play it back to myself every now and again, although I don't know why.
When I was a kid I bashed open a metal Tonka truck I had, expecting to find little plastic seats inside the cab when I got the roof off. Instead I found the oddly colored innards of a Tonka truck.
I feel the same way about that moment in time that I decided to record. I don't think it has any creative value, and if I keep bashing on it I will just discover there isn't anything inside.
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