088

Life is difficult to tolerate, hard to deal with. To hell with you! File this book, under, horror. Aren't we a little too old, to still be going through phases? The cow laid an egg in the rain, over by the fence. The microphone, wasn’t on, but, I said some things. The whistle just went off, we'll pick this up tomorrow. Speak in that strange, dogland language. Try to fit a few punches in between the lines, that are already there. We are all in protest of something. Enough things have slowed me down, or postponed, my doing what needs to be done, but this is not going to be a problem, any longer. People are loading and unloading things, into, or out of, trucks, people seem to be on their lunch hours, I've been here before. Feel free to use the swimming hole, though I wouldn't recommend it. Maybe I did/do understand, maybe I didn't/don't, but it always, all seemed kind of obvious to me. They would be looking for you to do something, to litter, or commit some petty act, like that, so that they could frisk you, plant evidence, and haul you off to worse than fucking hell. It felt like a finger, I suppose it could've been a snail. So much skin gets thrown around, that it's almost as if some law should be passed, or repealed, or something. Blow out the candle, it's all over. "Man on roller skates with dog," an agent, also, the woman walking, I know who they are, but am powerless to do anything about it. Don't ever let people read over your shoulder, when you write this. Don't demonize the Mexican towels. The last one to failure, is a rotten egg. Why is it, do you think, that all these cops and agents, are observing me? And then, there wouldn't be ice cream anymore. I forget if I stole a bottle of pop, or not. Spring, the girls wear next to nothing, people get into car accidents because they aren't paying attention to the road. Don't take my picture, I tell you, please. I don’t think too many good things are going to happen. Put down the marshmallow, this is not funtime! Pain, is pleasure, pleasure, pain. Look, don’t touch, is the first rule. Fix the ends, fix the ends, please. Don't even get caught walking by them. Watch the stoners straggle in late, those teenage kids, pre-teens even, are attempting to make fun of me, to disrupt, or upset me. I see that you are an icon. The percentages are not what bothered me, it was the other things. Who is it that we're trying to impress, this time? Can you tell the asses apart from just the snippets of images, afforded by a rear view mirror? We had to search so hard for things in common, we called the whole thing off. Things sure did get strange back then, stranger than strange, could ever get. Am I the only one who will admit to having too good of a time? Help me, today's marketplace, is about liability. When your hair gets burned off, when the wind is blowing in annoying ways, when you're angry and full of hate and frustrated... Dude, you're licking the bottom of the glass. This is all a thirty dollar divorce. We took the jacket out of the mothballs, perhaps, a bit prematurely. The death threats come in constantly, and I still take them all very seriously, there is a plan, a vigilante plan, that I've worked out. I will not allow you to tell me what to do, I will not comply, I hate you. All of the sudden, everything is coming to an end. See how far away from home we can get, if we're not careful? No, there's no scam, it's just that a lot of things have to get done, it's not enough, to get going, or this… not doing any of it. I know the score, I am behind, they have dirt on me, that just won't quit, they are trying very hard to stop me, and they'll probably succeed. I'm sick enough to do something, not that, however. A great many secrets were kept from me, which I'm happy not to know about. Would you just give me back my hat? What is the date today? See, now I have to go back and take out each and every slinky kitten reference, these are the kinds of things that drive me crazy. What was with that look that I received, over at the home office? This incessant underlining, must cease. Nothing is really going to "work out," is it? Chance isn’t much of a master, but it’s the only one we’ve got. Well, the engine just revved it's last, what the hell can we do to slide ourselves into CEO territory? Don’t be a headshrunk, shrink-wrapped, psychiatrist’s, wet dream client! The crow’s know (how can this be?) which trees are dead. It will be bygones. The straight looking, absolutely normal looking people, are the one's you've got to worry about. Lord, I asked for your help, where is it? It's not so terrible to be alone, trust me. Stop trying to go good. This is how we want to be touched (to release). They are better off without us. These photographs of picket fences, why? We don’t have to do what you say, and we won’t. You’re ruining my life (you’ve ruined it). Which alias? I see the wax on the tin can. Wipe it up, off the floor.
Ah shit, somebody took the last fork! Forever or else, is what I think she said. I'm see-through, in a lot of ways. Nothing stands out, in what I write, nothing is true. This is less than the embarrassment of an untimely flashback. The apartments where they died? Yeah, they say, as they shake their heads no, and their eyes are darting around, like pinwheels. What was that other place you wanted me to check out, or whatever? Too much time has been wasted already, to allow any more to just drift off, or however the hell it happens. Why should we eat the horses shit, that's thrown into our bowls? They should not be allowed to "just kill," anybody they see fit. The simple is the most profound, the most conservative, is the most liberal, on and on, etc. I've received word that the plan is to drag me kicking and screaming, back into the asylum. Try to see straight, when you find that your eyes start to cross, and drift off into the over there, turn away, gaze. If you don't take anything I write seriously, you're a very diligent student. The tiny scale explanation, was pretty good. Soon, we will have rain. I will die a virgin, how's that for admitting too much to the reader, things that can be used against the author? What song was playing (see, I don't remember much at all, from "that night")? Now my neck is hurting, and you hurt it. No one can ever know who's lucky, and who's not. The box up there, is really a video camera, it’s taping me, I'm not gonna’ survive for long, believing what I believe, am I, Momma? Take out your aggression on the vegetarian burger, the street lamps tell a different story, in every single town. Oh, sure, I can act all ha-ha, and ho-ho, sure. It sure isn't funny, but nobody said it was, despite this, we spend a lot of the time laughing. Shit, I forgot to say thank you, again. There is no way, we know that now, but there are an awful lot of ways to lose. The rooftops are for you. People don't like what they can't understand, here, they don't like me very much, I can't understand myself. They spoke in an identical kind of chatter. Which playoff is it, this time? The central character in all my novels, was always someone in some kind of serious trouble. We are so pretentiously wrong, about the girlfriend. We're so restricted legally, ethically, financially, socially, things must change. I'm not, but I might as well be, living out of my car right now, and picking through dumpsters for food. Send them to us, legally, in small, unmarked bills. If only the harpsichord told us, that something scary was about to happen. The landlady herself, had moved all my stuff out of the apartment, whoa. Thank goodness there's no more peanut butter. Interactive, no. Double strikes, another spare, keep the scores, don't talk about paint. You know, I think life is embarrassing, above all else. Hurray for the hallway. No achievements, connections, actions, there is no big shot, fuzzy thing, happening here. That's no left turn lane (crash)! No, I'm not going to wander through the dump. Everybody's pissed at me at work, I don't know quite how, to bring up the fact, that I don't care. There is nothing here to smash, that hasn't been smashed already. My brain is fried and gone, I see and hear things (which I refuse to discuss). It isn't even natural, to feel the way I feel, as long as I've felt this way, and still be alive. I can understand not being a winner, even being a loser, but not being as big a loser as I am, without insulting any sport. The new goal is a built in lie detector, a brand new kind of defective equipment, not too many people will do "anything," to gain one of the coveted spots on the hopscotch team. We are running out of time to spend on this. A gelatin product covered me, like a pussy. We are the “great untruth.” Don’t do that with the watermelon. Most of the stress and pressure, is from avoidance. The connection will sly you to the nearest feeling/surprise, spool. I am so stubborn. Sometimes, I get very violent… and pose as a worker for the city. Fuck the “in-group.” Try to think deeply about death, imagine it, envision it, etc. We don’t get what we want, or need. This has got to, it must, it simply, has to. Marvelous and sensational, neato kind of people, are currently playing shuffleboard, and/or horseshoes. Keep it rocking from stem to stern. I decided that a book needed to be written, that didn’t sugarcoat life, but, that revealed it, for/as, what it is. Chronicle the electrocution.
Anyone who takes, or makes, the time, to do anything beyond the run of the mill, is successful. See ya in the booby hatch! Falling off the log, getting back on, again and again. Everything was decided yesterday, today, everything's derailed again. Spread that rouge around, natural or unnatural. What we need to do, is conduct a study, but there's no time for that. Let's try to find a "happy place," if we can. Decisions, what decision? This has been long term, short leash drifting! My sad, little days, are really, quite happy. Put your glasses back on, indeed. Where's my little chubby, with your neck. Who cares to define what the hell it is, we're really doing? When you find that even the barest minimum, provides difficulty, look, I don't go out on Saturday, ever! Look at the rust on the bottom of the thing that holds up the blinds. You won't watch them, you'll fall asleep, it's too late, shit. My gums are chewing on themselves. Being unwanted is fine, for awhile. How would it feel to be someone else? Push yourself, man, I should push myself, further and harder, than I ever have before (I should start now). That thing has been folded and refolded, too many times. Those were troubled imprints. This whole thing is going to wind up being very hard to explain someday, to a lot of people, for many reasons. The last thing... the last... I do not want to spend my day at a bowling alley. Would you mind if we continued this disruption, somewhere else? Nothing would "build-up," there wouldn't be any windfall, nothing is going to happen, nothing! Oh, yeah, I lack the courage of my convictions. Would I still be staring at my college degrees, like they were TVs, if I were out on the street? No, I really don't miss the sniffling and noodling around. The car was a trick played on us. All I can feel are the/is the, pressure/the pressures. Let's just pretend that I never did this. Waiting to be tossed a bone (don't, it will never come)? We can't just go wherever we want to go, see? It's endless roads, from here on out. He was a walking and talking barometer, really amazing. Well, nobody was happy to see us, during the "great homecoming". Genitalia, like noodles, the buildings only seemed to be motioning to us. There is still a half a page left, to be done, on all of these. Upside down pears, are my only reminder. There was a dream in a hallway. Sure, I'm "uncomfortable," that's the least of my problems, however. Rape my face, just you try going crazy again. What was the story with that dancing? As you can probably see by now, I'm not normal, I've never been , and will never be. I was the one who looked like a psycho, while sitting at the table. We've been ready "for that," for many years now. Thank goodness for sleep. The first wake up call's were ignored, as were all subsequent one's. Yes, death is too easy, but for me... well. Remember your last trip to the hospital, don't remind me, please. I'm on my way, I'll lie. The, uh, you see, there are only a couple of things to identify with, or fixate on, we're all very much the same. The tumors are already hurting the inside of my skull. The changes just aren't happening. Don't lay there too long on the cold linoleum floor, next to a warm stove, it doesn't... it's not as good of an idea as it seems like, at first. I rubbed a dead salmon over my legs, I packed myself into the car, like a tuna. My head is not your head, I have made myself sick, very sick, and there is no getting well from here. My brain is like wet noodles, stuck to the wall behind the oven, in other words, done. Status nil, and here, I thought, that some things were rare. We are hurting very terribly, but nobody will agree to listen, nobody cares, so we stop caring, both about ourselves, and those who didn't help us. It’s not that big of a deal? We ended up acting quite foolish. We’re motivated, at least, I am, by not having any motivation. The alcove looked bigger in that particular light. The pool was always empty, over there. No escape is possible, at all, in any way. Alas, I’m too freaky for the freaks. She used to dust, in the nude.