The Wannabe Automatic Writer

when he was younger he jammed out on the guitar, bore a fro & then graduated from brown--- following this, him & his hippie gal got married, popped out a few rug-rats & sooner than later he was at grad school, then the ph.d & then writing papers on meticulously fine-tuned areas of literary theory at the corner of where philosophy met with it in a new postmodern paradise free of the restrictions that modernism posed & free of the comfort that it brought to those seeking well-thought-out stories, bringing with it the death of the meta-narrative as well as a thousand other aesthetic flip-flops, reversals & complete toss outs--- he sat in his little office at his little state university teaching english courses & weaving philosophy & actually interesting works whenever he saw possible, inspiring those who grew as bored as him with the everyday mundane reality of the university & in his spare time, when all the students had gone & he didn’t have to be home yet to do the family thing, he labored at the pc trying to find a way to write automatically--- something that would surpass or at least impress someone like william s. burroughs, whose work he adored--- and with every few hours stuffed into a week where he tried to focus on inventing some kind of new writing, he simultaneously forgot that with the meta-narrative went the origin of authorship, as derrida himself declared & so to this day the lone one sits in his little cage trying to break out by writing with his spell check or some other dreamt up attempt at carving a place amidst those that are studied by history, unlike those that historically study.