Written by Jacob Ibrag
Shia Labeof has been following me
since yesterday. Clapping every second
since we’ve connected. At first I was
alright with it, but he kept going.
Scratching my insides with this
barrage of harassment. His face ever so
still as he unites his palms repeatedly
over my head as I try to go to bed.
I am frustration personified, slipping
through sanity’s slope and into
Hades scorching hell.
I don’t drink, yet I’m wasted. I’ve
gone mad. Jolting from my pillow, I
grab Shia by the neck and scream till
my larynx gives out. Spearing him
through the window as I wave goodbye.
Shia leaves forever composed, clapping
till the inevitable splat. Except he isn’t
bleeding forty stories below my feet, he’s
somehow standing next to me.
Here’s To You Shia Labeouf