212

Stop thinking about donuts, sir, please. Like a fresh pair of girls panties, see… things went wrong. You've got pink ears, well, congratulations. Deep breaths, late wake-up calls, slides, film, caps, cellophane. Sniff, cough, heat, heater, grate, warm, building, tunnel. No one is ever there to answer the phone, at any of these places, that I call. Fuck her, alongside the road. I just can’t show the kids my scars, again. It used to give us visions. My gash, aches, and burns. To say that I'm a little upset, would be quite an understatement. Cleave the half off rack. Any breaking through, or reaching out into the mist...look at all that clothing! We don’t know what love is. Our visions, are still, so disturbing. We’ve done that, it is time for something else, now. You know, you memorize your lines, you show up on time, be friendly, yet distant, in between takes, do what they tell you to do, and it all works out, fine enough. This drive, to achieve below my ability, bothers me, incessantly, what it's all about, I don't know. There isn't going to be any chocolate, or, one thing at a time, bullshit, not now. The horn is blowing, and there is enough trouble out there, for six Harvey's. Put the book away for a while, in some cases, a long while. Learn to work, without a cursor, more manic, less underprivileged. The spiders web, is hanging down, by the windowsill, and looks like a Celtic cross...Should I be, in any way, embarrassed about my life? Even though you make up your mind to make changes, it takes a long time, for them to kick in. Eat it up, is what they used to say, at this point, that is the opposite, of what must be. Bleach stains, on the cuffs, and legs, of your pants, make you look like a derelict...mustard stains, a fat ass. I've been thinking Monday, is Tuesday, lately. That girl wasn't deaf, it appears, but certainly, didn't speak, she made very loud noises, and looked like trouble. Kindly, get rid of all this foolishness, destroy all mention, of the snow embankment, flip off. There is still an awful lot of work to do. Walk faster, be considerate, understand that this really is a bad sign, for the future. Three months, no one can do, no one? There are...ah, who...pfui! As long as what I eat isn't, candy/chocolate, meat, eggs, butter, chicken, fish, alcohol, cheese, or fast food, of any kind, I'm set. This includes sour cream, cottage cheese, margarine, any cheese, or anything. Thus, all, any of this, means, is that it's time to get creative. The people who bust in...it's just like last time, there are no differences, this time, from last. My own standings, and stallings, are not going to be compromised, just because I'm going to have to make dinner, do the dishes, for some who-how's. The terms, are moot. No, this is not a book, this is sort of like a private journal, for now. Unfortunately, that can't go on any longer, because this, is usually, all the writing, I do. Now, if all I do, is this, this, has to be more than it is. It has to reach up, into greatest hits realms, after the books are stacked up, hidden away. There is no resting, and wishing, ever! I could definitely hang up, all, or most all, of these clothes. The typewriter obscures the view, and shadow, of the tinker toy sculpture, over there. So many cans, stolen from people’s cupboards, so many mysterious, pieces of electronic equipment. Remember all that expensive wood, and all those knick-knacks, for sale? There is a tent out there, there is a trombone. The bottle is not quite near at hand, it is nigh on, impossible, to say how it is, that things like this, ever get done. People try, and then, stop, they go, and then, pause, they ding, and they dong, etc. That poster, could definitely be put right side up. All the bookmarks, are falling out of the storage area. Do I have any staples? Let's see, you've got to start from somewhere, so, begin now. Alice was a likable enough, sandwich. The airport has been (remember last time?) ruined, by all the drug trafficking, and whatnot. The view of the blank future, is going to be written on, but who the hell knows, what's, going to be written? If, by some wild assed, mistake, the ground should fall away from under me, again, I think I should go with it. The first office building, was the one we needed to find, not down in the bowels where former apartments, are psychologists offices. Wherever the rent is cheapest, you'll find the most, honest people. Wherever the divorce rate is highest, you'll have the most sex. Someone, inadvertently, knocked the transformer lid, off the top, of what appears to be, a telephone pole. Mysterious, to say the least, eh, how we all keep warm, in the Winter? Unfinished business, is a shelter full of newspapers, put the storm windows back on. There were days when...a couple of shrill screams, could get someone's attention. You slit “vagina’s,” into all of the stuffed animals! You’ve got to go through an awful lot of shit, to find the shinola. It’s really bad. We're nowhere near, complete, right now, we're immobile, unwilling, unable, unqualified, ta, ta. It’s all designed, to drive you nuts. The fresh smell of burning logs, and fabric softener, makes everyone's walks, that much more pleasant. So exhausted by eleven, that the side of the barn pulled off, in minutes. Some kind of schizophrenia-land, to real whew, whee’s, of the entire self, so much so, that you are scissored into neat, easy to carry, bundles, that can't be put back together, anyway, ever again. To act happy, could be the crumbling tops of muffins, falling down onto the linoleum floor. As far as our contract, we want the whipped cream, nuts, and cherries. Greasy, fearful, moist, radiant.

Hide the bottles, nobody needs to know about that! Noses out of joint, can really happen, and they are painful to reset. Please tell me there isn't something wrong with my car, yet again. Tell me there wasn't yet another death, from some fool, playing in traffic. If you listen to the sounds of an animal, attacking it's prey, there is an order to their snaps, and growls. In this vial, industry, in this one, empathy, etc. We've all got cards, to indicate most things about us. Why I stayed asleep 'til noon, with better things to do, shocked, and oscillated, me. We'll keep getting orders, we'll punch ourselves in the face, we'll double up on the poll taxes, understand the freedom of information act, and more! Steep cliffs tilt off into forty-five degree angles, the furnace is killing us. You're well, you're fine, not white. Not another feces smearing, Lord? See, it's so much of the package, or parcel, that to lay any claim, or to state any kind of purpose, or philosophy, about it, would be like a goofy, kind of silly, wrong way to go. Get two, bitch, nothing came from the last time, what will come of the next? The globe is not on it's little perch. Fart into the stink. Swing it, literally, make a mistake. We're all sick of hearing about the tortures of the job, it's all torture, and doesn't matter, in the least, how much is supposedly, at stake. I am so tired, all the time. Ten minutes in the kitchen, could solve most of the problems of the random, unpredictable, screwy nature, of those words, and a few others. There are not going to be any trellises climbed, for a long, long time. Fringe benefits, make up a cushy, cushy set, or sets, of vibrators, funny, old, goofy, asses. To be, is to be complete, to not smash a vase, or fuck up a snot, mess up a gun, and all. What happened here? How is it, I never know how utterly talentless, I am? This is not going to work out, nothing has worked out. Just one step further...We need to know how much each one should cost. If I hit that basket with a hammer, what would happen? Nobody walks up to a stranger's house, and asks them if they'd like to see, so, get everything totally prepared, and ask, in advance. I believe in death, and graves, not the cheerful others. Where are we going to put our coins, now? No one is gonna' let me call. See, the thrill involves people stopping by, doing things, just stopping by. Oh, shit, yet another damn instance, of being passed-by. The important, shattered myths, are not going to allow me to eat any cheese, or, grate it! Someone said, “made to be fucked.” What is going on with my bowels? Get your ducks in a row, don't just allow two more years/tears, to pass by, don't. Twenty one year olds, are working at advertising agencies, while I am doing nothing...oh! The proper way to faint, is to grumble into the forlorn, change your pants, and twist. The badges were glued on the sash. We've got to go to the bank, other people are making big plans, that are going to get things done, while others lisp, and wonder, listen to the wind. Your hours of operation, have never been convenient for me. The most disgusting vision, was that of the full length mirror, and the pillow, no one should ever catch a glimpse like that one. Years of tangles, that can't be combed out, easy starts on cars, incomplete sentences, weird songs, about being fine. So much see and say, is involved, that to go on as soon as possible, is but a slipshod, into the next. There aren't going to be any noises around here, for a long time. What is the proper face, bone structure, gaunt, crushed lines, and a character? Meow, tired into a grumble, rotting milk shouldn't go down so smooth. Paint the fire (how is your mother?) hydrant’s, neon. It takes, what it takes. It was like rape. Slingshot the mixer, over to there. It will never stop. Move your head a little bit, shake out the cracks, and pins, needles, whatnot. He had an apiary on the roof of his apartment building. Drunk again, on fumes, discombobulation? The landlord owns most of the room you're attempting to profit on. Can you hear people listening? If that could be paid off in one year, there you go, rough health, slow down. Watch those stress levels, wind up that thread, enable your friends to continue using drugs, put the pork chops in the oven, plant flower bulbs, for the springtime. So many pencils, none of them, sharpened. Hurry through this magic, kind of, boots lost, thing. It did sound like a tick tock, constructed with piano strings, but I don't know. You'd better lay down, sort of, before you explode. Watch this space, for fabulous businesses, that will come, and go, with surprising regularity. The important things to demand, don't bite those photographs, they can't be replaced. Ride up, and down, your own minds, tubes. Industrious limbs, get fortified, and re-fortified, sometimes. Try nineteen! Never go down that street, there is no reason to go down that street. Push down the piles of IN, push down the agenda to...stay corrupt, stay in detention, drive the floor of the boat, upside up, or...Move the two gratings, all the way to Egypt, on a transcontinental flight. We don't want to know the gossip, we want to feel for you. The torture of the Cossack, the resurrection of the newborn, the collaboration of the disturbed. This is supposed to be a permanent record, of some kind? This has got to stop. Sometimes, the dead, speak through us. The heart, is a piece of shit.

There is a glamour of being off the chart, in terms of trouble, ennui, horror, grief, frustration, suffering, etc. In more than one way, I have wasted all of the time that can be wasted, before you really start to feel, "affected." Exuberant perceptions, are not occurring in my life, right now. We're all, each of us, exploited, in our own ways. A career, is an orifice, to be fiddled with. All aboard, the nervous system pull, and crunch! Some things are, or were, certain, in the mire. My "problems," are not real, they're put-on’s, of a particular kind, that I don't fully understand. Where there is nothing to do, I'm sure we could find a great many, things to do. Scratch a few vertical lines, into the surface of the table. Sleep is the cure? I don't know, or think, and don't care. Treason will be punished? Compromise, or don't, it doesn't really make any difference. Try our new self-consuming dentures! Monsters take their time, mistresses, do not. If your legs hurt, try one of our new hair colors. This office is not going to lead the lamb to slaughter. The war made a huge mess, go over there, and scratch it off. There are always going to be more important things to do, than work. When I think of all the things I don't want, that I formerly, did, I have to chuckle, a little bit. Give me six coffee's, please. The goal here, as elsewhere, is to communicate, without having to look at anyone's face. Those are human beings, they get free sex. I haven't yet had the chance, to do any detailed, bathroom cleaning. Everything is grey in here, except for the trail of blood. The Hindu with the long beard, and the oversize turban, would make an absolutely fabulous, interview subject. Practice the scales, and the notes, peripherally, and viscerally. You eat, only act, Yiddish! Perhaps, our nemesis, is not a scurve, but a crewer. Some sort of incurable illness, is assailing me, my esophagus. We should all be wearing breastplates! The show on depression, was great. The entire anti-historical past, has slid into the ditch, of exact times, exact dates. Just because I'm dead, doesn't mean I can't speak. California reminds me of a dead man's backyard. Don't lap at the trough full of turnips. Keep the fried Megan out, until it starts to smell. Libraries usually turn out to be more exciting, than counting tumors, libra bean spreads, exposed genital regions. This is not my idea of a thrill, Steve. Three drawers are open, and stuff is falling out. She had essential properties. No more midnight cereal. The mistake, was a philosophy? That's my water, you're wasting. And no, I'm not going to say anything about it. Everybody is acting curious, as to why you left. You are no big-wig, by any means. Sleeping at night, is boring. I should’ve called the book, Wrestling with the Toilet Seat. A chair, is likely to get smashed. Swish and spit, until the end of time. We went a little overboard. You won’t make it alone. The “new” silo’s, are over twenty years old. I love her. It’s total madness, pure ring-a-ding-ding. There is no such thing as old people, they are young, plus time. If you aren’t honest, you won’t last very long (that goes for you, too). They can tell, when you’re writing about them, and when you’re not. It doesn’t get any easier, ever. Where are we going to bury all these bodies? The golf courses. Try another spellcheck. It’s as descriptive as an empty pool, full of leaves. Sit very close to death. Make up for lost time, the old-fashioned way, fuck it. Get signatures, and phone numbers, for your alcoholic, Monsignor, look-alike contest. Perhaps we should kill everyone who has attempted to steal from us? Use the serrated edge, take your orders, rip each, and every, book you own, to shreads. What worse things, are going to happen to me? So cowardly, lazy, weak, I really had it made, when I thought I didn't, way back when. Who's gonna’ call who, on the phone? Press harder, where are my cigarettes? Chicken store, here I come! This total beauracracy, insists on a new application, to accompany the old forms; policies, and procedures, golden snippets, of pure phonics. Stop erasing, please! You're so imaginative, you're like a decoration. My sorrows, are as false, and put-on, as my joys. Increase your activity levels, exercise, clean the house, start your own advertising firm. Poison, or position, I just can't read Spanish? Who says we're innocent, until proven guilty, the blind statue? To my shock, a handful is all that is needed. Look at her go, dancing like an imbecile. Looking at the swamp, you'll never be convicted. The boat landing nudity, seemed like it would never end. The perfect little cherub, turning violent. It will take years, just to get this filing in order. Try a new tactic, survival. The riff-raff, fell behind, as fast as chalk could squeak. The factory was abandoned, some are guppies, some are salamanders. The tissues, from here, look like intestines. Every day, without fail, we get bored, and drive around. It’s alright? Things in boxes, that rattle, when shaken. It's been a long time, more. You worry about it. We’re melting into the chair, without scientific proof. Something beyond hate, and contempt, let's talk about death, alienation. Fresh as a little daisy, flower butt? Break for a commercial, look up the secret address, twirl, twirl! Be more than careful, when turning on the stove. Flit, stop letting them fuck you in the ass! We're all going suddenly, nuts, in here. So many (smells?) different kinds of sausage, pleasant feelings, calm feelings, meet General Havoc. You're your own kind of bunny, sweetie. Casual, not sloppy, slinky, not sexy. Type your own manuscript. These are not fantasy boy dreams, of glory, grandeur, and greatness. Don't get into that kind, of situation. Is this all really just goof off, and fool around, time? They would have thought you a maniac nut, had you sent that cryptic letter. This has all, gone hillbilly. Be stronger than shit, stranger than lice? Talk to the manager, act a little sly/sexy. What we need here, right now, are shapes, forms, chit-chat. There is nothing worse than being ill, and being unable to receive any treatment. There is no plan B, in case you're interested. If we were that, then I would be banished, to way over there. Presto goes the will-o-wisp, on an ordinary, overcast day. I felt so “country” today, that I bought a hat. The next book, will be just a re-write, of this one. We will never get along.

Our fortunes, are like variety candy boxes, with no little chart, to indicate what, is what, where, is where, and whatever the hell seemed so...oh, yeah, I'll turn the light off, in one minute. Try it while you can't see, and an hour and a half, after you woke up, wicked. Everybody's health, is faltering. Silence is a good enough change, to keep a few, twisted, thoughts, at bay. What you should be looking for, is a money-making entity, not a scourge of debt. I mean, think on, but do more, with what you think. I don't know anything, about anything, but I'd better learn, quick. It is as if you never went to college, for starters, it's as if you're seventeen years old. So, go from there, I mean, you're barely employed, anything is better than this. What a great day it is, maybe it'll wake you up, to what you've lost, as well as what you've got to go about, winning. Your mornings are open, these sketches, are those of an amateur, your situation is abominable, everyone is arguing, it is time to wake up. No one knows how the dead man, got up there. Try hate. It’s been five years since I took this to Mackiniac, K. Everything, has gotten worse. Catering, seemed good, while driving around aimlessly, in someone else's car, that I may have possibly, ruined. Flunk a year, in ten, what will it have mattered? This is it, this is the last attempt. What’s life, if you never get to the point? They were always wearing swimsuits, what did you expect? Go ahead, pussy foot. Some people are always there for others, and get a dribble back, in return. It can’t be Friday again, it just, can’t. I dislike my face. Just throwing something down, isn't going to get you off the bed, out of the house. Being too embarrassed to record something, is sure to slop you down, six yards. There is an eggplant to be stuffed, and if you don't stuff it, someone else, will. I have already topped out, in terms of salary, and I just started. It is past the time, to start moving, by now, you should have moved. It may not be quite possible, to become famous, for being a consumer of other people's goods, and services. Start from reverie, and then get it to somewhere else. There isn't going to be any discovery in the back bin, for you, unless you start hopping. My whole aurora borealis, is a joke, at this point. Sin the zipboard into Fera’s, get a line on the board. The scrounging taxes, took a back lot, this year. Today is the day, I thought I was going to die/win. We're sitting, and trying to make connections/corrections, from life, to life. Expand experience, to include a few days of work, into your repertoires. Here comes somebody, carrying paper bags. Birch trees, somehow, look more fragile, than the other kind. Let us wake up, and do something, other than brush our teeth. That see and say game, is not going to work for you, here. Topple down the exit ramp, land in a heap, fulfill the axiom lingo. Humor is a drawn-faced man, or woman's, attempts to, "turn that frown, upside down." As little help as I provided, gives me an uncanny assurance, of being written out of the candy dancers. Our early morning arguments, don't do much to squish Sasquatch, as he rumbles through the early afternoon. Was it sleep, that came upon me, or a sort of blooming orchid? We sit in traffic, for hours. If it isn’t pretty, most people won’t see it. Let's disengage the handle from the pan, immediately. The gases accumulate in my mouth. We masturbate, a little too often. I no longer care, about anything. Take your only good pair of pants, off, before going to bed. Death is the real end, the windows then, close. We are all in some kind of high-end trouble, choke me, stroke me, don't forget to poke me, maybe, I'm alive. Invisible safety pins, hold the artifice of knowledge, together, repaint. This is slowly, all there is, lets go find some sand dollars, or starfish, somewhere, anywhere. These hours, be damned, this isn't any one way ticket, sexy. Be polite, be intrusive, be a bully, be a charmer. There are better things to do than prod your ass, at some home, nearby, and imagine how the other half lives. The cultivation of the cauliflower, should be done by next Thursday. Contribute to the fund, to reallocate funds, from such, and such, a charity, to such, and such, a rich man. Get longer, into the short stretch. Rejuvenate your hair follicles, and squirt some philophilus, into the ten year, high school reunion. Fun is picking up cigarette butts, after a few years in a solitary confinement, bad dream. There are no auras, and no gasses, and we're all out of wine. Swim to the captives, tell them to lighten up a little. A square plug of incense, burns longer, and brighter, than your ordinary brand. Signed letters, don't get sent from here, very often, no one can seem to believe, that anyone would actually take the time, to throw trash, on a ringleaders, stomping grounds. Make up a way to be solemn, and witty, at the same time. You've got a (kind of a) forehead. Don't forget about Zeus, and the porch, the partridge, the solitary scratchings, of someone, out of his mind. Crumple up the paper, and start again, lay down on your mattress pad, and close one eye. Will there be a piglet race, on the kitchen table, tonight? Don't think about her, if you're so inclined. The kids run by the house, just like I used to, that must mean that I'm, “that guy.” A treasury of insights, into the climb up the tree, for a thousand different reasons, which couldn't be climbed. Pace set a foray downtown, tonight, get your pleasure on the backseat, little ham hock. Do a four-corner bed, or whatever it's called. Think yourself a roly-poly, and dingo, tonight. Make up some excuses, to encourage, without getting involved. Who is this mistress, with the fresh air, and the big book? Fish on labels, can't swim, what's in the can? What do you “swear by”? Be fair, be fair, while being pushed down into the mud? There will continue to be vicious, and horrible, betrayals. We all want to attend the world's most glorious fair, or carnival, while in reality, we sit in our rooms, afraid to venture out. It’s all bullshit, done because it can, be done. I fucked the car, with vim, and vigor. Try to do something different, but all the while, keep in mind, that people are probably not going to like it. Ohio, is a long way, away. If you have a split seam, it is probably a sieve, with crushed ice falling out. We can do more for ourselves, than we let on, at present. The signs do not bode well, at all.

So many delicious, buttery, cookies, that to eat them, would inflame us, like the alcoholic woman, in rural Idaho. Stand aside, is all it takes, to get in that party tonight. Roll up your pants, and put a chicken in the oven, ‘cause this is gonna’ be an international, biscuit baking contest (of some kind). We need to invent a new place to go, to have fun. The study of so many different, and divergent, disciplines, ensures that you'll never fully know, any one of them. It was a year ago, today, that everyone died. The overall mood of this, is soon to change. I chose not to fall into your traps. The way you argue, says a lot about you, the way you smell, gives away a lot more. We’re getting ding donged, off the bell curve. Go into the kitchen, and take an inventory of each, and every, thing, in it. Be both! Underneath the overpass, and around, and around. How much for this car, squeezebox head? We're going out tonight, and if we wind up at the drool puddle, infirmary, so be it. The castle looked majestic, all lit up in the night. Practice what you're going to say, before you are required to say it, that way, when you're interrupted, there will be no coo-coo, sidewinding (wink, wink) maneuvers. Hopefully, we can get this teepee up, by nightfall. Here comes the romantic, carrying a bucketful of oil. The sketch book, is empty, we never really know if we're active participants, or ardent admirers. Try to curtsy, and curl out of the womb, a bit cleaner. Ducks have bills, in order to grasp their prey, easier. Idiocy, is a new sort of genius? Forlorn bystanders, can't recall what that one word was, that got everyone all riled up. Let them say what they will, who can ever really be sure, what the dumbfounded man, yelled? Everything is more expensive there, the dry cleaner, individually, staples those little paper tags, on each, and every, garment, the bank will probably not decide, to give me the loan. If you simply must masturbate, do so cleanly, and correctly. The label said something about there being numbers, cataloging, involved. We will fold the boxes, and put the ribbons on them, making everything look neat, and clean, and dainty. Skin is rotting off of you, right now, it is falling down, due to gravity, and eventually, it will reach the lowest point. Camouflage the fact that you have passion, power, influence, and desire, for, others, will not like you very much, if it's too obvious, that you are a positive person, who likes him/herself. Scratching, shifting, and wondering what's going on, is what most people do. No one will read it? Very well, then, no one will read it. The more concentrated, your attention becomes, the more you miss, elsewhere. Winding bass strings, wasn't/isn't, very satisfactory. No, I can’t say I’m happy, the disease is so damn thorough. You rest! Stuff those brooms into the closet. If you are too old to be a proper piece of the puzzle, just wear your matching outfits, and look cool all day. The mystery has been revealed, there isn't any. Shake the pen, as if that will allow the ink to somehow, dislodge, and move down to the point, like it's supposed to. Don't ever give up, or let the fact that it's impossible, make you despair. See, that's the challenge of the game. In the table of contents, can be found clues, in which to live a better life. Go down to the candle shop, and order a bunch of shit, with no intention of ever purchasing, any of it. Wasted dawn, comes earlier, and earlier, these days. What kind of dull drift, did you void? Don't ever catch yourself thinking about limousines, again. It's all grammar, sentence structure, and what you can do with it. Anything that I have "going on," is a direct result, of not having anything, of the kind. Once my neck is broken, I will type with my teeth. Muffin is doing just fine, without me. Drop down into a stumble. Just the general delirium, that I saw all around me, was the influence, most cited. The consequences, are the intentions. It is now time, to get it. Just burn along with the flame. Someone spoke Chinese, I fell out of the chair. I would like to be crazy, or crazier, because I think they have a lot more fun. Forgive them all, it’s the nature of the species. There is simply not enough time, allotted to us, to live the kind of life, that would be, as most people assume, satisfying. It is not that I intentionally, write in a off handed fashion, but I believe, that to transmit meaning, it needs a form, other than that in which it currently exists in. Things simmer, it takes a long time to get them heated up, and you can't rush, it takes it's own time, it's like the dog, taking you for a walk. I would rather be a person who makes other people's dreams, come true, than to have my own, brought to fulfillment. I will never be a lot of things, many things of which, I would like to be. It is possible to think that such, and such, a thing, or person, could bring all of one's dreams, to fulfillment, but it doesn't quite work out that way, we primarily, live in a world of delusion, illusion, confusion. It sounds like a familiar car engine, but it could be anybody. I wanted to unload myself, cure myself, get some troubling complexes, and perplexities, off my back. You've got to take bread, and make a sandwich with it, the sandwich can't make itself. Well, boring things, don't make good movies. That was a doozy, a little ditty, they come, and you'd better get them down, as fast as they do, or you're going to miss them. Everyone wants to be liked, it may be more in their best interests, to like (doodles of lawnmowers) themselves. Just throwing some ideas, into this so-called, arena, that I was afraid to enter into. Stampers, and die makers, boiler makers; have a zone they go into, all their own. Some people make it look so easy, but, it isn’t. The good stuff, leaked out. Give up on faith and hope, etc.

Most things, just don't work out, most jobs, you just aren't going to like. You, whoever you are, are never going to have as much money, as you would like to have, it is the hopeless dream. No work of art, properly constructed, will ever be finished. The diet drinks, aren't working. There is no, “going any higher.” No one really wants my help, they think I'm lazy. Be a doer, not a winner. Calculus is at the heart, of all applied sciences. The spotlights in front of the store, have burned out. Color coded dishes, make us feel alright. Being prepared, isn't just a slogan, or motto, anymore. Maybe they're looking at, or talking about you, but, such things, are doubtful. This is for sure, though, if they want, they can watch you, watching television, and they can hear you, listening to the radio. Look at your hands, with a hat full of memories. When you're down, no one cares, and why should they? The mix is so soft, in comparison to so many others. Don't be anybody's hero, or best man. Sew up the mouth, read the printing on the pen, and burn the empty shell. Yanked into, and out of, cars, for hours, we drag our own bodies, around. Sentimentality, is a one skyscraper town's, annual picnic. Hit yourself, until you learn. Investigate the things, that you, yourself, have made unclean or unclear. What is your goal? Deloused, debriefed, every day, seems the same. Needing help, just makes the helper, want to cream their own corn, that much more quickly. Perhaps, we can't reason our way out of a paper bag, we want you, to let us, leave you alone. Who the hell was it, you were secretly hoping, would choke to death? Use up all space. Regenerate electricity, thus, allowing things to be used, twice. How many times have I heard that I was carrying a lot of drinks in my hands? This all seems like someone else's, idea. Your alma mater, sends notice, that yes, indeed, the unstoppable, can be stopped. We don't really have any need, of most things. Some products sit on the shelves for months, before being purchased. Slip ups can't usually be heard, they usually have to be felt, or experienced. We want death to stop the pain, not the numbness. We are absolutely, positively, sick of the radio, and the songs they play, over, and over again. Intuited nightmares, can throw you out of bed, faster than some girlfriend's, husbands. Once your mind is lost, it can't be earned back, in order to be lost again. Start at the bottom, and work your way upwards. It’s designed. Whatever was on the clothesline, started to look more and more like a ghost. Backlash, backwash, I’m in great pain, I’m overly dramatic. Move, or stare, by the power of nervous instincts, we need a tripod. Crank it out, no complaints. When I end my life, it will be of my own free will, with a clear mind, and conscience. Memorialize the moments. Lean on, in. We need a little more than courage, around here. Of course, it is! Hot for/hit by, and the predictable floodgates, open, and close. She was so beautiful, that I didn’t think that she was real. Treat it as one thing, see if it fits in with the others. Collect dead animals, do spine research. The one who does all the cooking, can't sit around making lists, and trying to catch every ounce, or gram, on paper. If you don't use drugs, it might take you a long time, to learn your way through a breakthrough, or breakdown. The plants in the windows, serve as a reminder, that life has been brought, from the outside-in. Violence churns, in much the same way, as an empty stomach, does. Real love, is a smile, and a few other things, not to be forgotten. Get your inner tube out, if you still feel the need to keep afloat. The same kind of region, exists, down there, as exists, up here, and it's okay to sleep around, as long as you're not lead around, by who you're sleeping with. Go down, to come up with something. You better put your chef's coat on, help out more than you have, thus far. You are real to me, brand X. Now that you know how much time it's gonna' take, you'll see, what bizarre sights, there are, to see. Let it all rot, read it aloud, know who did it, let all the lies, crumble together. Climb the pastel tower, act twenty-five feet tall, don't you wanna get there, sooner? Vomiting, and death, have little to do with violence, per se. Everyone is mumbling, that they're fine. Affairs, begun under the influence of vast amounts of alcohol, do not last very long. Never again on the upstart, try to re-use the raw material, mold your life, like clay. Refuse a ride home, from someone who has been stalking, and/or sexually harassing, you. The pen is out of ink; glory be, what kind of faggot in the park, who will not be ignored? Late at night, the girls attend the party, troubled people, wind up becoming, very afraid. Lean into not allowing thoughts, to dictate your behavior to you. Find another person's leg, to scratch, never listen, there is no way to do it, other than by doing it. Your current frame of mind, is becoming very clear. Good enough for the buffalo’s, who always stop by? Some seminars are so lame-ass, stupid, that you can't even comment. You think too much, about the wrong things. Don't shit on your girl, or boyfriend, without good reason to. That’s the price you have to pay. Get out your tambourine, cause you're gonna' start dancing, and dancing, right here! There is going to be a renaissance, and it is going to start in the little blue room. Strategically avoid the void, get your bread on the side, go humdinger; you don't need any mentors, you need a reason to stay alive. Shall I scrub the toilet, again? Countdowns, documents, and resolutions, so what? The wind just tore the door off the barn, goes to show it can happen here, I guess. One ear is perked up, another one, flops. Turn into a pigeon.