Irreparable Monotony

I want to invite you into the most boring of worlds, containing the most mundane specimens, and colorless creatures. I am not trying to inform, nor do I intend to show you the dramatic, I am offering you brief fragments of the mundane, banal, representing objects that fill our surroundings, in hopes of triggering other recollections.
Detect your surroundings, looking not with intention, becoming aloof.
Apply yourself now, take your time, observe the street with some concern for system.
Note down the time, the date, the place, the weather.
Continue slowly, almost stupidly. Force yourself to write down the most obvious, common, colorless.
Force yourself to write down what is of no interest.
Try to describe the street, what it is made of, what it is used for, how it works.
Detect the rhythm, putting the fragments together, connecting, recalling, finding the climatic within the mundane.
Carry on until the scene becomes improbable, until you have the impression, if for just the briefest of moments, that this has become a strange town, or better still, what is happening or not happening is no longer decipherable, what the representational form of a town, a building, pavement, a street, is no longer a familiarity.