Trying to get help from the Big Rock

I was feeling troubled and went out to talk with the Big Rock.

The Big Rock said, “What is bothering you, my son?”

I said, “I don’t know…I…I just…I don’t know.”

The Big Rock said, “If you did know, what would you say is bothering you?”

I said, “That question bothers me.”

The Big Rock said, “Good, now we’re getting somewhere. What bothers you about the question?”

I said, “Well, it makes me feel bad about not knowing what’s bothering me.”

The Big Rock, “Great, problem solved.”

I got frustrated and walked away. I came upon a mouse who was nibbling on a bread crumb.

The mouse said, “Would you like some crumb?”

I said yes. I sat down and the mouse handed me the crumb. I nibbled on it. I began to feel better.

Remembering our trip to the North Pole

Hi.

I was thinking about you.

I was remembering that time you and I took that trek to the North Pole.

It was your idea, and I like to support you.

We flew up to Ellesmere Island, in Baffin, Canada. Then we rented a boat, and traveled north across the Arctic Sea. On the way we came across a family of seals, called The Wortmores. They had never been on a boat. We invited them on. They road with us for a good two hours, till we got to where they said was an excellent area to catch and eat squid and rockfish.

They got out, we said our goodbyes, and you and I traveled another hour or so till we reached the polar icecap. We anchored the boat, got out, and, heavily layered and coated, walked the three hours to the North Pole.

When we got there, you created a dance called the, Really, This Is It?! and danced around the actual pole. I clapped in accompaniment.

The Ziggurat of Ur

I am spending Christmas visiting the Ziggurat of Ur. It is located in the Dhi Qar Province of Iraq.

I come here every Christmas. I don’t know why.

My family doesn’t understand. They want to know why. I tell them like I told you in the last paragraph, “I don’t know.”

I took the tour again today. It’s the 14th time I’ve taken the tour. I don’t know what the tour guide says because she is speaking in Arabic.

I’ll be coming back home tomorrow. My family will be picking me up at the airport. I’m anticipating that they will still be upset with me.

The night before Christmas

God: It’s the night before Christmas. Aren’t you going to ask me for all the presents that you want tomorrow?

Brooks: I kind of really don’t want any presents this year.

God: When you say, “Kind of really,” does that mean you really do, but you don’t want me to think you’re all materialistic and greedy?

Brooks: Well, if you’re going to ask and answer all the questions, what’s the point of my even being here?

God: Yeah, you’re right. I’m sorry. Do you forgive me?

Brooks: I guess.

God: I got you an early present. Do you want to see? I think you’re gonna like it.

Brooks: What is it?

God: Really?

Brooks: Well, yeah, I mean, yeah, now I do.

What to do when the shit hits the fan

I wish I had a good imagination. It’s feeble at best.

I’m pretty good at writing what’s real though. I learned that when I took a journalism class in high school. It came to me naturally. I got really good grades. My future was clear.

So that’s why I write my real life stories. It’s what I’m built to do.

For instance, the floor in my living room caved in today. Luckily I was standing off to the side when it happened. The shock wore off quickly because my dad is a war veteran, and when I was growing up, he was always telling me, “Brooks, when the shit hits the fan, you got to act as if the shit is always hitting the fan. Otherwise, you’re gonna freeze up in panic, and you’ll be no good to anyone.”

So the floor caved in, and rather than panic, I took a deep breath, felt calm, and took a look down into the hole. There was an underground pond down there, filled with alligators. They looked up at me with panic in their eyes, just like my dad told me not to do.

I wanted to help. So I crawled down into the hole. I went up to the alligators and pet their soft throats. I learned that trick on PBS. They said this area is the alligators must sensitive spot. When you pet them there, they relax.

Pretty soon there were twelve easy going alligators lazily swimming around the pond. I stayed down there with them for a while because I love to wade in ponds.

Hot off the press

I was up late when the angel appeared in my living room. I’m not into angels, but still I was surprised.

I asked what it wanted. The angel said, “Nothing, I just thought it would be nice to spend some time with you.”

I asked what that entailed. The angel said, “You keeping me company.”

Let me tell you that I don’t particularly care for angels because of this kind of vague shit. But my mother taught me to never be rude, so I said okay.

The angel sat while I wrote this story. I write because life is odd and if I write about it, I feel like it starts to make sense. Like I’m a journalist writing details about happenings. Hot off the press stories.

I wrote a story last week about a dog that spoke to me in Latin. I knew it was Latin because I had to take it as an elective in high school. I guess everything at some point fills a hole.