Friday, March 24, 2006

081

Too often, right in the middle, of a pleasant meal, I lapse, into some, sick, and twisted, alter-ego. The way they choose, to, "modernize," old buildings, leaves much, to be desired. The absence, of ethics, in regards, to, whatever, leads to, all the rest. Poor, boy, buddy, only, made, 300,000 dollars, for his subpar, performance, as himself, in, Such and Such (The Movie). What kind of a scene, is being presented, to us, here? It wasn't my idea, to steal the sailboat, and then, sell it, in the front yard, less than a mile, from where it was, taken (porterhouse steak). Every day, passing by, the same, houses, thinking, the same things, caught, in the same, seemingly, ridiculous, but, probably, necessary, cycles. Get your fake tits, out of my, face, bitch! Just because you use, cool songs, to sell your products, we won't, buy. Was that, what I thought, it just, was? Doctor, I told you, the hospital, isn't necessary, at this time. Scramble her eggs, scramble her eggs. Friends, who really, aren't, are always, sure, to keep, calling. Blues singers, are singing, strange things, these days. Monochromatic, collapse, a long look, in between, the slats, sharing. The Q & A, began, and ended, without, any questions, or, answers, being, posited. The sickening, sinking, feelings, that can, occur, from watching, other people, eat? The eggs, are done, you are such a, sweetpea, such a sweet, sweetpea. Baby, won't you, please, come home? The grimness, of the day, don't let it, throw you. The dramas, that we, ourselves, stage, on a daily basis, to stay amused, are boring. No matter how, truly, cool, the tattoo, is, you will get sick, of it. The crisis, will occur, unless, you do, those little, things, you tell yourself, to do, yet, don't. I want to be hated, absolutely, hated. These psychic, pleasures, these, surprising, moods. How dare you, try, and hide, my guns, from me. Some things, that aren't happening, right now, really, need to, happen. Don't be pulled down, with the ship, if you don't, have to, be. Turn the radio, off, all this talk, about Jesus, and death, is giving me, an anxiety attack. If I leap, from here, to there, it seems, to me, that, that, will happen. Determination, is not all, you need, but, it is, a big, part, of it. The woman, walked up, and started, grabbing things, off the shelves, she was going, absolutely, crazy. Don't ever, let anyone, get into, any sort, of position, to fuck up, your, life. It was a flagrant, foul, that I received, that threw me, on my ass, and reeling. What we did, was not, allowed, we pretended, we didn't know, that, at the time. See, we can't, get, "tired of things," and, expect... man, I've got to get, out of here. The bombs, are going to go, off, each, and every, person, in that goddamn, town, will be, killed. I hate myself, so much, I'm not going to be put out by this, at all. The smell of green, the smell of green... This has to be something, man. Shithole, you took my can of clams. Sir, put down that toothbrush, it doesn't make any difference. Fuck the afterglow, there are more important things, to do. I'll kill you back, no matter how long, it takes. When I used to drive, on the freeway, I used to get so angry, that I tore my dashboard, off... off! If I kill this animal, and prepare it, properly, what's in it, for me? I feel forced, forced, to love, what they tell me, to love. There are things, in here, against ranchers. Call me a sissy, then (and, farm hands). Get ready for some cataclysmic, horseshit. We get/are, all used, up. All that matters, is our own, sexual orgasms? You probably could, but, why? None of us know, who, or what, the fuck, we are? The epiphany, of whatever will be, will be, was a false, one. If it weren’t for, luck, where would we, be? There has got to be a way, even if, there isn’t. I’m trying to save this, from the slush heap. They will not care, at all.
Try to see your own, handwritten, words, moving, electronically. Throw the corpse, over by the side of the road. It is all, only going to get, worse. They are, all, my mirrors. Insist on constant improvement, never-ending, evolution. The bastards, never look to see, what might be wrong, with your car, before they tow it, away. It should be clear, by now, that I don't deserve, or, want, any pity. My vision, I can't see, anymore. A computer, it looked like a computer, was being wheeled out, of the apartment complex, by the police. These are the song lyrics, we’ve memorized, so far. There is no thinking, there is not going to be any sitting, and, thinking. What could have been, wasn’t, was it? Here come those people, again... no parties, it is time to sleep. Clip the hedges, paint the columns. People are just laying, on their beds! Too much tap dancing, too many marriages, candy bars, never used, tires, llamas. Should I bring that thing, with me, tonight? The neighbors, couldn’t believe it. The awards shows, are predictable, and boring. The vows, very well, might have, been, broken. I, for one, am not going to allow this mission, to become compromised, by this woman's, period. Virgins, lose yourselves! Well, let's check the damn, laundry, again. Be a no-show, at the coup d’etat. For most people, things, just happen, the rest of us, look on, with anger. Some kind of crazy, event, is about to unfold. Sales, have been a little, disappointing. Part of the reason, was the luck of the draw. Cover the killings, at the middle school, as opposed, to those, entertainment events. Research, is very, very, important. My cooperation, in your case, detective, ends, right here. I reminded you, to get lunch meat? She wasn’t too, impressed. Corral the chairs, mix the tenderness, with the violence. The colors, and the shapes, of those people in the background, it looked like a quilt. That’s only, what it, takes. You’ve gotta’ have, a grabber… You’re on the rag? Rented rooms, seem to be designed, to illicit anxiety. They have all, gone away. We’re carrying on, not well, but, we’re carrying on, the traditions… Antenna, lieutenant… There isn't very much relaxation, at all, or, it's, all, relaxation, I can't tell. Get it, over with. My publicist, has advised me, to keep my mouth, shut. I am a loser, a failure, a package, of processed, food! We survive, no matter what. The dog, can be found, wherever the bowl is. The award, will go to someone else, I don't care about your, rankings, standings, weather patterns. Roll in, like thunder, sound off, like lightning, put on a big show, for a few hours, and then, go away. Everybody is dead, dead, and gone. Oil prices, keep rising, falling, rising. Most of us, are too sick, when we have the sickness, to think about, how sick, we are. Tell those kids, to get the hell away, from the door! You are pulling off, some elaborate, act, you are all, utter, fools. All of us, are being trained, to wait, to do, for others, what we don't, or, can't, do, for ourselves. We need form, and structure, this is not some high school, show, and tell, program. Stay, keep...I was introduced to my own skeleton, last night, and, the early part, of this morning. There are no excuses, for our fuck up's, or, our successes. There isn't anyone alive, to write the forward, anymore. You killed her, you killed her, and I'm going to tell. We need more medication, it's already, leveled out, they were ribbed, but, so what? Everyone wound up, drunk, it was, horrible. Everything seems, clear/cloudy, for a few days, after the arrest. Money, will be raised, money, will be, spent. It's coo-coo-ratcha, time, kids, and it will go on, all night. Before my testicles, got crushed, in an industrial accident, I used to enjoy a fine, healthy, normal, sex life, but, then, two times, this must be a sign, of some sort. The festivities, began, and corrupted us, somehow, our love, was not enough. Ignore the man, what does it really, matter? Now, give me my underpants. When I look at models, of molecules, I get so excited, and so, wet, down there. I'll eat, in a while, I'm not that hungry, now. I don't think, that anyone, should be going anywhere, with anyone, ever. The planes, are jamming the transmission, of my thoughts. Anyone, “in power,” personifies, the obvious. Too many, six foot tall, ten year olds (something, in the water). Right when you think you’re, over it, your back, to it. Point, and shoot.
It, could happen, is the more realistic, assessment. Don't go back, may be the best advice, I give, myself, that I don't, take. Hi, my name is fuck me, how do you do? I stand by, my mistakes, but, not proudly. Trust smokers, who are sitting in the non smoking section, as long as they're not smoking. Buy the rubber hatchet. Let this be, an illustrated, compendium. Envelop the end, classify yourself. The grease, left on the napkin, reminds me of, something. I'm just trying to make a better life, for myself. Express the sundown, differently. Alright, the party’s, over, who took my glass eye? The bottom line, is that there can’t be any mistakes, in this, not anymore. No one is going to sit around, and listen to you, recite your fears. For three hours, we discussed, strategy, then, did, the opposite. You’ll soon see, what I mean. I am not, actual. Our electricity, was cut off, again. This is just, another day, that glides past, without notice, it just, goes away. Something horrible, has (pies, are an art) happened, to the love. The groceries, are taken from the car, to the house, out of the bags, and stored, somewhere. We each, face, whatever it is, we have to face, in our own way. I become a lesbian, when I sleep. Saint Pontiac, took on, Chief Louis, and won. I want to make fuck, to you. I will be the money, in the head hole, you, can play, another part. I don’t want to be fair, to myself, I want to be the I, I want to, be. We don't have any needs, anymore, we don't care. Someone else, won the award, that I, was up, for, the grant, went to someone, who, collects them, doesn't, need, them. Freebase the paint chips, this is not a commercial broadcast, solely, for use, in the private home. Well, the arms, are bent, out of shape, and useless. The restaurant, makes millions of dollars, as it is, why do they dilly-roll us, on the tips? Perhaps, all that is required, of us, is to sit, quietly, in one place, and not draw any undue, attention, to ourselves. Shit, I'm really in for it, this time. Right now, the lawyers, are making money, while we sit around, and wonder, what is going on. Would you, please, turn off the fan, above the stove? No, there is no reason, none. You wouldn't, and, should not, trust me, in an arts, and crafts, shop. Those dreams, that I had, this morning, were totally, unsolicited, you've got to believe me. You entrapment, tool! Two hundred and fifty, sit-ups, now! Nobody, is really, too sure, if that many of us, are around, which, is neither, here, nor, there, I guess. Suddenly, for no reason, somebody, rings, a large, gong! Another asshole, just caused a scene, at the restaurant. I'm not fitting, properly, in the chair, anymore, so, you see, I won't sit, still! Keep your politics, to yourselves, people, most of us, aren't interested. It is time to start, taking. You act too cool, for anyone, to like you, see, nerdy, is in, this year. Everything is bent, every, which, way, things, are sticking out, at strange angles, it's like a Mexican meal. No pot smoker, or, drug user, in general, believes, there is any harm, in it. There is a great unrest, unease, disruptive things, seem to be, happening. It has a lot to do, with how I perceive, my self, this, great, disliking, that I have, for my person. When I drove to the barn, illegally, how was I supposed to know, the cops, would be waiting... this is, clearly... uh. Nothing matters, nothing matters, everything, and everyone, is forgotten. I remember you. Is it possible, to get, just, one night, of softness, without knife fights, threats, and sex? Try to cure the sick, the least, you can do, is try. The things that go on, inside a human head, can be... so amazing. Well, to say the least, I took it to the hilt, this time, and, then, some. Interlude/ intercourse. It’s always, late, at night. String a line, of that, into one, further away, the disappointment, is not going away, like the doctor's, promised me, that it, would. They called it, vintage, it was something I, found. Follow the bouncing ball, sing along. Chlorofyll, suffocates us. We tried, being, very afraid. The sky, lit up, with charcoal. Dirt, was a part, just, a part, of my nervous breakdown. Light the excitement.