079

What other, crazy, things, can we say, that haven't been, thought of, before? People, felt sorry, for me? Wow. Fame, for a person, like me, would be a really, bad idea. Waif-like, handshakes, pastries, and danishes, sanguine, pungent, akin, to, “the self-inflicted, wound.” The woman, I was supposed to love, must’ve, died. A person could fuck, her legs, alone, for hours, and not get, bored. I was, almost, in the grade school, foxhole. This is unbelievable, that this, could happen, and that, such a, big deal, could be made, of this. One of my problems, of epic proportions, just, ceased to be, one. Nothing works out, right, when everything, is, wrong. It is time, to go. You stupid, fighole, wiseass, you stole my, figs. I'm very sorry, that I'm so boring, but, I worry, that if I were any, more, "exciting," I'd be, in a bit, more, trouble, than I'm, already, in. There is no escape, if you got yourself caught, in any confounded, traps. Inject me, I lack the courage, of my convictions. If it weren't for nicotine, I would never be able, to make it (not that I, have). Going through, dark anxiety, and, maybe, even, terror? My, how the finger, is placed. You used to be better, at chasing typo’s, you’ve lost interest. I thought, wrong, all wrong. The fixes, we get ourselves, into, take a whole lot, more, repair work, to get, out of, than it did, to get, into them. I am long, since, ruined, wrecked, fucked, finished. Life, is not about, beautiful people, champagne, and clowns, it's about making, exactly, or, a little less, money, to pay the rent, and utilities, on the dive, they let you, live in. I will, never, ever, under any circumstances, marry, anyone, much less, bring any offspring, into this, latrine. Harve, got a socket wrench, handy? We all, run the risk, of running out of space. None of us, are ever, really, on our own, unfortunately. Walk away, scram, jump, the flip, off, into the ape's, face. There is nowhere, to flee, to, where we won't be, found. No one, seems, to care, but, they will, on the walk, to the guillotine. From street curb, to hospital, to jail, the cycle, continues. They eventually, let the crimi... The cap, and gown, are missing, I think, they were, thrown out. The time to, begin, is right when you, end, not, want to end, but, quit, end, stop (which is, unfortunate). There is nothing, like, secret breasts, showing. There will always be someone, to clean the semen, out of the stalls, up at the local, sex shop. Well, I feel, sick, but, that's the least, of my worries. None of the excuses, wash, of course. One, or, two, important events, that have transpired, in our pasts, are really, what we will, become. There are many, many, things, to worry, about... but, it's more important, way, more, important, to take action, do, what needs, doing. In victory, lies, defeat, and, vice-versa. Go ahead, and laugh, trust me, it's a natural response, to reading a fool's, words. The smell of Fall, doesn't happen, in the Spring. I think, what I did, could, indeed, qualify, as violating the mandates, of my probation. Nobody is going to be waiting, on the edge of their chairs, for the next, K. Francis, book. They call him, Mr. Satiricon, I call him, motherfucker. Well, I want to sue, as many people, as I can, I may not be, a proper, savior, but, believe me, when I say, that I am, trying. No matter how hard, we try, huh? Was it a, poem, I read, at the rehab center? Loop it, send it, through. Oh, it will, happen, it is going to, happen, anyway, wait, and see. I can't stand, myself, just, can't, stand, it! The sex crime, unit, doesn't have any dirt, on me. Brief moments, split decisions, can have horrible, and long, lasting, consequences. Wishful thinking, won't get that, court ordered, tether, off your leg. Don't scorch, out the room, it is my one, and only, place, to hide, from what's, outside, of it. People, bore me, sorry, if that, offends, you. You still, haven't finished, that beer, yet? The cocaine, kept us up, all night, school nights, weekends, it didn't make, any, difference. Next week, I begin my treatments, wish me, luck! The newspapers, remind us, constantly, that we’re all, doomed. We’re all, being kept, under control. The photos, were put into, picture frames. Rubbernecking, at car accidents, girls, 454’s, and blue corn. How different, do you think, you’ll really, be, in, one year?
Most people, give up on, thinking, "deep thoughts," when they see, there is nothing, in it, for them, whatsoever. The sound, of my thought ("the voices," if you, will), is louder, than that, of the, rain. I wish, that I could tear, my own, dick, off, and put it, right in, the garbage disposal. Cheat, if you have to, do, whatever has to be, done. The dog, even the dog, pushes me, away, with, both paws. Most of my life, is in my, teeth. I try to be, an engaging, entertaining, dinner companion, and I only wind up, looking like, a sap. They seemed, to swim, around us. None of the food, we eat, tastes good, but, we eat, more, and more, of it. No, I'm not the first, last, or, only, word, on, anything. When starving, it is common, to think that, you’re proud, of your abstinence, from food. The layers, of help, we need, are not going to be set, into place. Corrupted, on a pontoon boat, in a phone booth, during the high wire, performance, of all, places. Believe me, that it isn't, sexy talk, when I say, I have to reach under, the seat. The thrust, was all that was, called for, from the, get-go. I threw up, at the billionaires’, picnic. Spend your time, wisely. What do I write (nothing, that most all, people, would be, in any way, interested, in)? At least, no one, was killed? What?! The roads, are all, dead ends, it doesn't matter, which one, you choose. We are required, to lie, in order to function.No surprise, it’s all, the same! We're all out, of joy, as well, as, several, other, things. Volts, VHF, shocks, test patterns. Can’t you think, of, anything, else? You’re bound, for a lot more, action. I smell, computers! The ceramic, hippopotamus, has, moved. Chop Suey, is, existence. That’s how fast, you die (like the power, going out). Drugs, don't work, any of them, they never have, and, they never, will. It doesn’t matter, what you look like, you’ve still got to, do it. One day, you aren’t going to, wake up (sweet dreams). I’m making a total, fool, of myself. When racked, up, very, few, people, don't, pray. Could you imagine, a penguin, doing, that? Love stories, you'll never, see, "based on a true story," at the beginning of, them. The tone, has, most definitely, changed. Long since, ruined, what, now? Help me, pick up, the fragments. Maybe, I should be doing, sit-ups, or, something. Well, if there are, "embarrassing," things, in the rough draft, simply, take them, out. Sweat, sweat, and, not for any, reason. All that matters, is that we can, take out the trash, drive down, the street, go get the mail, and, so on, these, are the most beautiful, wonderful, perfect, things, in the world (and, we are, more than lucky, to be able, to do them). Six months, in detox, and, now I'm cleaning out the cages, at the kennel. The gun, is kept, under the pillow. The rebellious phase, never, really, ends (well, not totally). It's a joke, sure, but, it, really, really, isn't, funny. Do not commit, any crime, no matter how, caught up, you get, in whatever, it is, do not do, anything, wrong. We should have, formulated a plan, already, but, if we haven't, it is high time, to formulate one, right now. No lottery ticket, could give me, anything different, from, what I have, and, am, already. My philosophies, are all wrong, nobody, is ever going to want, to listen, to them. There are things, that I've got to get away, from, for good, and, forever. Movies, do us all, a great, disservice, they play with, reality, like cats, would, a string, and we're all, worse off, for it. Nobody, is on, the dark, slick, streets, nothing, is coming, to me, it's over. Kick start, the mistakes, you've made, make them, work, for, you, rather than, against, you. I joke about being, a fuck-up, in hopes, that I don't, become, one. I used to think, it was shameful, to wash, cafeteria trays, now, it's the most coveted, and wonderful, thing, in the world, I'm proud, to be doing, it. The technical difficulties, lead to, emotional, ones. When I looked into your garage, I felt like, such a failure, that I can't, even, tell you. Clever titles, do not, a best seller, make, nor, quotes, by one's friends, to have on the back, or, brilliant writing. The bottle, has told me, many things, that the glass, or, can, couldn't, or, wouldn't. I only have, one lung, one testicle, so, as you can, see, some thing's, do, um, uh.., the plague, is upon, us. Does one, feed into, the other, well? Low paid, workers, make the high paid, workers, high paid. Drain the kiddy pool, there’s shit, in it, again. We moved, to Manitoba. You are able, to be, squeezed… it’s the, unwillingness.