Happy Birthday, Clara (see, I didn’t forget). I think, I’m only, acting, like an ignorant, putz, but… Depression, is weakness, I am depressed. Guard, your clear thinking qualities, they, stop. The Mexican hat, will stay, where it is, do you hear me? Learn about engines! A model, sure can, cause a man, to look, twice, but, what, beyond that? As far as the new, and totally, different, world structure, that we designed, I don’t think that it’s going to happen. Knowledge, is a landmark, nothing more. If you don’t know, where the day one, handouts, are, you had better find them. It should be our intention, at this point, to take risks, and try different things. Stop drawing, tripped out drawings, on note cards, and focus, on what can be done, to get yourself, from where you are, to where you want, to be. Put a new slant, on an old idea, or two. Sometimes, the birthday cards, get separated, from their envelopes, and, from time, to time, people, just forget, to say, goodnight. Accidentally, cutting your finger, without insurance, will cost you, so much money, you’d rather not have the finger, than pay the bill. Is someone, calling my name, or, am I hearing things, again? The “competency,” to read, and understand, a stock quotation, is a competency, I can do, without, or, so I think, right now. Your flowcharts, don’t interest me. As far as the, “letter to Sarah,” no, it wasn’t mailed. Our last times, and chances, have been taken, they end, around, about the time, elementary school, does, these days. The place, we’re going to spend the night, has been, formally, arranged. We never think we’re going to wind up, going, any place, until, we get there. I don’t think that a few words, on where the flower vase, used to be, would…they give us two days, to watch the rented movies. Keep your receipts, if only, to be able to look back, later, and know what you did, and when…it may prove to be, a more interesting, pastime, than you think. Flip, coffeehead, it’s 2:00 A.M. There are no free pizzas, but, they can be gotten, cheaper, if a few steps, are taken, to ensure this. Pace, between the pale, and the tan, but, don’t let either, know, you’re doing, such. Time, is pretty strange, talking about nothing, all the time, and whatnot. Things get… “all, in all, okay,” but…the homotoxicity, of divine ventures, ranging, from a Leibniz, to a bi-curious, Descartes, what, I guess, it is, that I’m trying, to say, is, that things, get complicated. The quite, anti-magnificent, stances, we take, don’t lead, to what you went through, to get them, eh? Try to provoke order, at the customer service, area. Hide in the corner, of the crowded room, with a bar of soap. Our rights, to teach English, in Korea, without knowing the native language, have been, revoked. Someone, is always coming home, and letting the damned, cat, in. You have poly-cotton, blend, allergies, it is a general truth, to speak of the tree, full of hubcaps, but, not, manhole covers, don’t get me started, on the manhole covers. The people, behind the stove, will not, let me, think. Avoid this face. The out of it, are the people, who want to be, “in.” Call, write, go/don’t, go, read the book, instead, of seeing the movie. They never stopped, lying, to us. If you expect me to roll, in, that, you’re, crazy! Let nobody, tell you, for, you, anything. The cherubs, are burning, in hell, and the witches, roast toes, on pieces of plastic, to be sold, at auction, later. It looks, just like, real hair! The file, can fuck itself, bent open, address books, full of dead, movie star’s, phone numbers, aren’t going to do, the people on the tour buses, any good. All bugs, who make loud noises, in whatever room, you happen to be, occupying, must be, killed. She said, I left her unsatisfied, with stains, on her dress. Words, and language, is all love, is. Now, for the part about, whores, and fry cooks; what you’ve all, been waiting, for… Now that I’ve found some, room/space, I don’t know what the hell, to do, with it. Stop doing, what’s expected, of you, like, wearing clothes. All the chairs, were, gone.
I wasn’t as smart, as I thought, I was, that’s tough medicine, to swallow. If you value, your figure, don’t eat, donuts. I don’t want to lose anymore. You should not, like me, I think laws, or statutes, have been passed. There is nothing left, for me, to try, and prove. I suppose this, is, a memoir? Years, pass by, and it would seem as if, I should have, forgotten, by now, but, I cannot, or, will not. I’m a very good person, but, not good enough, not, nearly, good enough. I spend a lot of energy, trying to deny, or hide, my, goodness, which, is, evil, thus, the good, becomes, evil. Sure, the argument, isn’t well, formulated, but, you, no doubt, know, what I mean. Write your memoirs, whether you have any, or, not. I want to be changed, by what I learn, but nothing, seems to happen, or, “be happening.” We all seem to enjoy, building ourselves, up, only to trip, or push, ourselves, to some tremendous, fall. The chaos, will continue, so, get used to it. I’m not ever going to tell you, who I am, totally, not that any of you, would mind, or, care, about this. Get that, out of there, that, doesn’t belong, in there. We’re in as good a place, as any. What we consider, shitty, or, unremarkable, now, will be the hottest shit, on the market, thirty years, from now. When you’ve already, rubbed yourself, raw, certain aspects, of meaningless, or, pointless, things, aren’t. The trouble, is, that I have attempted to do, too much, by myself, in the past, and have become, overwhelmed, from time, to time. The alchemy, of limbo, is like going for the high score, on a popular, video game. No more versions, of what the “cool,” think, is cool, please. There is no turning point, now, you’re past the inspiration point, fall in love, here. Fried Megan, won’t ding-ding, you, out of the, sniff-sniff. No more, mere, beans, are being served, at the, Bump and Grind. Your watch, says the time, is all’s, well. Too much Hollywood, not enough, of our own lives. There are dozens, of places, to get wholesale, pastries. You probably, disagree, vehemently, with me, which, is, more than, fine. Tuesday, we get the job, Thursday, we’re fired, how the hell, is anyone, supposed to have faith, in such establishments? I don’t care, and, I do, very much, the guy, on the other end of the phone, some, crisis hotline, guy, told me, to, fuck off. There is something, going on, that is, wrong. Nothing is very hunky-dory, anymore, or, however, it’s spelled. There we were, in, Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. How can we, “win you, over?” They are a marketing company. We’re too far gone, for salvation. None of the stuff, that I underlined, in that book, I read, a long time, ago, would be underlined, today. A lot of us, really, want to do, what we know, we shouldn’t, until, we get caught, at it. This pain in my legs, doesn’t seem to be, going away. Look how wrinkled, the quilt, draped over the back of that couch, is getting. Don’t start recounting, things, just, go forward. If things were easy, everyone, would be a hotshot, and, that, would be worse, than, this. There is a wetness, a sort of, moisture, outside, right now, some people, call it, rain. Your mandible, is going to fall, right out, of your mouth, if you keep chewing that cud, of yours, so incessantly. No one was very surprised, to find out, that the band, never really, recorded their own, music, or, sang their own songs, they floated. Take issue, with it. The sock puppet, went absolutely, berserk. They’ll fight over bologna, let them.
She was never in my car, that I recall, anyway. Maybe, emotions, aren’t hard to write about, maybe, they don’t, exist! There isn’t even time, for a quickie, now. It gets to be, too late, that’s when you know, you really, fucked (gloom, again) yourself. We do ourselves, in, is the truth, of it. There is a penalty, for operating a motor vehicle, without insurance, and you don’t want to know, what it is, because, it’s, stiff. Thought, can be, just, too satisfying, for too many, people. Geniuses, are made of yeast, they go on, and on, and on. Winter, is coming, the fur shops, are keeping their fingers, crossed. Accept the unacceptable, then, change it. Help the communists, apprehend, flabby, stack your books, on the floor, in piles. Don’t be satisfied, with substitutes, or, chocolate flavored, beverages. There is no guilt, there are, generalized feelings. What you get, can be taken, from you, too easily, and, very likely, will, be, sooner, than you, think. Sex, is a disease, an addiction, and there is no cure, treatment, nothing. The drugs, are not kicking in! Don’t act so terrorized, it’s only, laundry. There comes a time, for integrity, and reverence. Let the long, pent up, anxiety, burst, blow, bang. There are no more, possible, contingencies. Discover the suburbs, we must, above all, else, maintain a sense, of variety, and vitality. I act like a great, many, things, that I am, not, only one, of which, is, “tough.” Are we close, yet, or, still a long, and far, way, away? Please, don’t hesitate, make your tax deductible, check, out, today, to me. Most managers, are morons, and bosses, are assholes, why is, this? I need to make sure, that I never have to go through, what I went through, again. Don’t ever get married, if you already, are, well, make the most, of it. How much money, would you say, you spend, per week? Working up to, ejaculation, is like marching in place, on a military fairground, you know, when is this, going, to end? Being popular, isn’t everything (you find this, negative?), I honestly, thought, that I was bright, kind, interesting, grounded, intelligent, in short, that I, “had it together,” boy, was I, wrong. The cop, doesn’t care about your multitudes, of other problems, as he tackles you, in the backyard, or, arrests you, on the side of the road. I must learn to ignore, my growling stomach, I must mush, mush, like a malamute, or, whatever they are. Decaf, is evil, the cobwebs, can only be ignored, for so long, the belief, in, anything, is unfounded, the pitcher of beer, can be left, on the table, half full, once, in a while. Unfortunately, I know, exactly, what I have to do. Well, sure, I’m sick of suffering, but, I’m more sick, of seeing those, close to me, suffer. The area code, keeps changing, it’s so bad, I don’t even know, what number, to call. The mall, is full of exercisers, eaters, and drinkers, lookers, and pokers. Don’t fund, people’s skills, and waltzes, through the glitz. The way to go broke, is, to spend, money, without any, coming in. Stretch, scratch, shift, don’t go driving around, again, for no reason, tonight. There is a subtle bend, to the ceiling. Without anything, being either, added, or, subtracted, from our talents, by any habits, we are wholly, free, and in the clear, to try and ascertain, if we even have any, talent, or, not. If they bust your call girl, ring, well, people are going to find out, about your little secrets. Say yes, to, lunch. If you are one of those strange, people, who do, strange things, you had best, have a cool, as a cucumber, demeanor, and an alibi, set up, in advance. There is a peculiar tightness, in my chest, right now, I think, that I’m going to die, this year, when, in actuality, I’ll probably, live. All my old, love letters, were written, in hieroglyphics, every other sentence, crossed out. Drugs, are, disruptive. Through the tollbooth, no stopping. Introduce, your two, different, selves. My anger, is so fluffy, so gay…
This is not the first time, they “forgot,” to give us our free film, okay, we checked the box. It seems like there used to be, things, going on. I guess, I just, want, to make money. Asshole, just, pass the, salt! No, I don’t laugh, quite as heartily, anymore, I am sorry, that things didn’t work out, between us. When you are dying, may you have someone, to kiss you, goodnight/goodbye. New paintings, and artwork, would make a world, of difference. Invent, yourself, a boy, or, girlfriend, who you think, you should be, some controversy, to stir up, your humdrum, days. Studying, fringe science, won’t help you with your financial analysis, of how you keep, screwing up. Who would kill, a cute, little, dog, like that? The little dog, cried, until he fell over, dead, in the vet’s office. I can’t take it, I just, can’t take it, anymore. We can’t stop, what happens, from happening, or, do anything, about it. We just have to suffer, through it, all, of it, and suffer, we do, each, and every, one, of us, each, and every, day. There is currently, a couch, in that formerly, open, area. It is always, the same, but, in different, ways. Things turn foul, quite quickly. I’m going through, another phase. We’ve got a license, to choose, we may, or may not, sleep, too much. I had hoped, there would be some, damn, hope. Continue, folks, just, continue. My own blood, adorns, this text. My mind, was torn off! Something, must have happened, to me, to cause, these grave, fears. There is not even, an uh-huh, or, an oh yeah, left. A flood, or famine, would, depending on how much devastation, it caused, allow us, to not have to pay, our debts. Can this hold up, to heavy scrutiny (can, anything)? Go on, worry (what the hell). We’ve got to pay the minimum, amount, due, by such, and such, a date, or, we’re done, for, and, we already, are! Nobody can, “do it,” because, there’s nothing, to do. Do your part, pull your weight, do what you can, do, to help, and, maybe, what you think, you can’t. Pumpkin patch, feelings, these, aren’t. Hey, dumb-ass, they, are going to do, whatever they, want. Sure, I’m probably the ugliest person, who, ever, secretly, harbored a desire, to be a matinee idol, but, that’s all in the past, and, doesn’t matter, anymore. He got a new, cardigan (get tenacious) sweater. You could’ve helped me out, with this, bitch. As for my, being too cowardly, to commit suicide, well, good for me, I guess. There is nothing, wrong, with me, though, for awhile, I guess, I wanted there, to be (probably, to give myself, some excuse). What you thought you saw, is not, always, what you, actually, did, see. I’m feeling a little chubby, a little bloated, a little puffy, and, I am, I am. No more woosy-pussying, around, is allowed. So, I’m an addict, convict me. Hostility, may take the form, of dancing. Drinking, leads to drunkenness, and crimes, being committed, for me, at least. The visual image, that just flashed into, my mind, was that, of a cafeteria. We should have done more, extracurricular work. I can’t even begin, to tell you, how incredibly, sorry, I am, for the things, that I should, feel sorry, about. Artists, are usually, goofballs, the good ones, are well paid, however. Ma’am, get down off that, jungle gym. Writing, for months, or years, gets you months, or, years, worth of, writing. Don’t try to describe, the laws of physics, and chemistry, behind the new age, movement, no one, is interested. No job, no hopes, of a job, and not wanting one, not giving a fuck, whether I get one, or not. Eyes, avert the others, thus, some sort of high? There are, to say the least, obligations, that each of us, have, here, one of which, is to, bend down. The peephole, revealed, strange, sights. Blurt it, out, like a dive bomb. We don’t get too many, chances. Keep an eye, on the interest rates, suckers.
