102

.
What was it that I was thinking about, earlier? Sure enough, he had someone pinned on the ground. All is not well, backstage. Train yourself to be an it. People, there are no breakthroughs (pardon me). The photos were posed, well thought out in advance. People can be very hard to please, though. All the landmarks have been damaged. Our insistence on clarity, is what leads to confusion! Things were so much more clear, earlier today. Everyone that worked in the restaurant, seemed to be yelling. There isn't a whole hell of a lot up in the attic. What are those strange stains on the wall, and how did they get there? We chose the old fashioned kind of license plate. I don't know what she does now. Sign up for the fanaticism class. Softness has occurred, this is not good. Tremendous leaps need to be taken, either East or West, but whichever one, soon. This is an overextended swing and miss. People must be doing some strange things with magnets, or something. Be careful of what you do, you will have done it! Visit scenic Manitoba, with it's never ending prairies. We're all full of gas. Everything tastes the same, shells make strange sounds, that aren't really the ocean. I'm part-time, small change, fries, etc. Abstract the common, everyday routine, into twisting, twirling, catastrophes. Mustard stains on everything, joy! The obscure, elitist, withdrawn, sheltered, will die first. The experiment to slow down time, was a flop, as was the one to speed it up. Don't give me "that look". The ice cream parlors are open for the season. I feel very much not alive, but it doesn't matter. Her eyes were like saucers, the kind she always looked up into the sky, to try and see. Screech to a halt, screech to a halt! Don't scratch me there, I know who's dumpster this is, look, get it straight, this is not your parking spot. The structure gave us all ideas. It sinks in, but very slowly. This is an effort to... fill up, all. Your aura was your technique. Keep your lame ass daytime, to yourselves. These are selfish times, it could be that we're just "winding up," all being that way at once. There was something that I wanted to do. As time... oh, fuck it, let's do some bird calls! Feeling so stiff, so heavy. Kick, slap, claw, or shimmy, your way out! Off the deep end, means something a whole lot worse than that. I've wasted enough time already, at least I know that I'm doing it. What a bunch of scarred and deranged, people we are! The bassoon exploded, the piccolo picked up where it left off, the crowd went wild! The candles get blown out, the feeling of being lost in your own bedroom, may just be the worst of them all. The movies sucked, they always do. What was thousands, becomes hundreds, and we wonder what the hell happened. There was this desire, a desire, the short film was perfectly scored, musically. Where's that whore's journal, or whatever? Forward, direct, on the line, we're going too far. All of the bad things happening in the World, will only get worse, and there will be more of them. So far along, and screwed up, where will things go from here? It would have been quite a sight, to see him again. This is all just part of the boredom of being engaged. The ex-(cocksucker) drummer squared off against the parlor freak. If only thinking were a more physical phenomenon, many of us would be in better shape. Sex is a hopeless, fruitless, impossible endeavor. So, do sex kittens go meow? This is a song about flowers. Watching logs with Freda, I got a great idea! He loved to inflate balloons, and then deflate them. We sat there in the living room, it seemed like hours. The never ending worries, are ridiculous! Fuses don't make any noise, at least, not that I've ever heard. It seems like London is going to tip! Someone said something about a queer truck stop. Real life has a tendency to continuously interfere with what we want to do. That wasn't that brilliant a line. Was there a specific scene that you found objectionable? Is it gonna’ be two old men, or one, in forty years? I do not belong in the kitchen. Shit, yet another great idea, that's been done before! No holy nothing, twelve furlongs into the next abyss. The crowd blows it's nose on one another's shirts, the letters are safe and sound, there is no reason to worry about them (somehow, my pants have been torn). Play horseshoes in the middle of the street, do something! It isn’t funny, any more (get it done). Oh, you’ll change.
What we want, wants us (uh, I don't think so)? The smell of amniotic fluid, reminds me of stomach bile. We walk, what else is there to do? The homeless are ourselves, a couple weeks after losing our jobs. Take it to the end. There just isn't a lot of comfort, anymore. Leap now, or forever hold your breath. The foghorns sound like school bells, or jail sirens, anything ominous. Without training, we have no chance. Socialization is nine times out of ten, a mistake. Where, oh where, will they put the new digitronic access towers? Your incessant scratching is an excuse to touch yourself. The cowboys new environment? The boots are red and are kept outside the front door. The Nova Scotia daydream, involved fucking, in a roundabout way. Where is your bleeding oil painting now? He said something about the old factory. And the egg shall have its bacon. Ice in glasses, reflection off the back window. From black, to chalk, to breakdown, discovery, presentation, to downfall. Don't collect hair! My blood is flowing in the wrong direction. Wave your silken handkerchief, darling. Have I ever considered sanity? Stare at the wall and hope, just hope you get some good ideas, real soon. Thoughts cease to be entertaining, as action becomes less and less frequent. Please clip and attach to your application form. Heads can be shrunk for you, while you wait. Point to the pointless. Thousands, standing and waiting. Slow news days, mean exposes on some new kind of Mafia. Tap, tap, tap go our feet, on any available surface. I'm sure what he said about himself, was meant to be a cutdown of me. The scratch The laughter blurs into tears. We just want to be able, to make some sense of it. There are going to be refugees here. We really went too far, this time. It’s somersaults from on high, now. Up in flames, or down the tubes, she stood over by the bar, not looking at anyone. They got me, and how. At the very least, in life, we are often, entertained. Nobody is making enough money. Make your way to the tea room, carefully (with tablets). Go through the turnstiles. I went all the way to Burbank, with a long list of demands. All stops have been pulled. Keep your elbows above your head. They have no idea how extraordinarily difficult all of this is. One free fondle, just won't do. No more Society, it had it’s chance. Reminded of ants being charred to death, with magnifying glasses. Try to understand the watertable aspects. It’s a North Ontario mistake. Man, I can’t even think. How can they expect us to cope? Is that the air conditioner? We're distracted from what we should be paying attention to, by devised maneuvers, on the part of the government. My ego fills my rectum, I can't explain my own behavior. There is a pain and stress, in simple management. The drinks were spilled on the dance floor. Scan in the new/old, keep the old/old separate, tell me this is a bad dream! The Philippinos want the bells back. Consumption is a sin, it doesn't matter what is consumed. Where were we (good question)? For some reason, we stopped taking elevators. It's more than a ride by the old bank, apparently. This is like divorce, heads being blown completely off the body. Try to exercise as you drive. The lowfat distinction, surprised everyone. No sports bras, no panaceas, glasses that aren’t even real, great advertising campaigns, perfect anything. Dinner tasted like diarrhea, and was, for the most part, eaten. Burnout cases get their own peculiar forms of revenge, on whoever, or whatever, burned them. The World premiere of the succubus, these events still happen? Act tinged, tinted. Why is it that I repeatedly insist on making the easiest things, the most difficult? The judge lost his mind. There are no "trace effects," that can be proved, in the neurons. For now, we seem quite alive, we go for the coffee. We don't even have a chance (but shhhh, don't tell anybody). Every cliché has been so overused already, that to... Screwed, until we just don't get the same kick out of it, anymore. Another bill paid in cash. It is as if the station of the cross were just checked off, on some list. Cities are so unorganized, that I doubt that any plan is being consulted, or looked at, at all. The news reports got more and more blasé, the more and more tragic and horrible, they became. I told too many lies to myself. The surrealistic Sycamore, reminded me that I was in pain.
I went a little overboard for a while, on the "dirt thing". Imitating some guy on a TV commercial. Let no more days, or weeks, months, or years, pass by in this fashion. Postcards remind us that there is indeed a life occurring, if not our own. I took my own advice, and I am! No one has ever... oh, what does it matter? Don't make me do this! The shame is real! Patterns emerge, to not be patterns, at all. Make sure you didn't leave the oven on. Was it only talk, that speech about the abandoned drive-in movie theater? We don't need any more food. Nothing would seem to improve. The attempt at humor, went unnoticed. Scratching is not a sex act. I hit myself again, on purpose. She was a client, it took a long time to figure that out, the first time. As one phase passes, another begins, the same goes with habits, obsessions, sports seasons, holiday preparations. Though I admit no wrongdoing, I apologize. Buddy, they set you up to fail, to take the bait, whatever it is, know that, now. Somebody smashed their mailbox, honey, be careful of your knees. There is so much less to worry about, but it sure as hell doesn't seem like it. Once we finally do get off our asses, and try for something, there are no guarantees, so please, try now, a lot. My foot hurts. Do what you would do if you were rich, now! Tomorrow is not Friday. The cleaning got to me. We need some protection, none can be found. The Spaniards ordered cakes, to make the entire crew, feel miserable. My own significance, is/was, much less than I thought it was, I need her hate. Silence is the name of the game, no one wants to give away the secret, I guess. They make those pies with eggs, you fool! Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow; when we need energy, we can't stand up anymore. 8x10 glossy photos of who, on the wall? That one is forgotten, but only to be recalled, yet again. Yesterday and today get so confused with one another, that they might as well have been one event. The man was concerned about missing work, with three felony counts against him? Our worst fears are very, very real, it is time to go into prevention mode, now. There isn’t any light at the end of the tunnel. It’s all a bunch of rituals and symolic this and that. My goodness, what a downtown this has been. Someone just got into the bathtub. Risk loudly, with hostile people, at your left, and right. Roll into the fertilizer barn. Later days, my good man. Inevitable, yet surprising? It’s so damn difficult, that it’s humorous. There was nothing I felt fit to say, to anyone. Muscles become replaced by fat, I want to be way less selfish. It was around Halloween, when I died. The dent was removed from the car, quite a speech was given. The undertaker took aim at the overthrower, the rest of us looked away. Believe me when I tell you, that the only memories haunted, are my own. Bohemia has nothing to do with things (trust me) Bohemian. She mesmerized with that soft and gentle, coo-coo language. They played games that only someone who understood a foreign language, could understand. Six past three, the harmonies don't seem quiet, right now. The drug stores are all the same. I didn't touch her, I never touched her! My thoughts are so cloudy and screwed up, that I must secretly, unbeknownst by myself, be on narcotics (drugs)! I made a big deal out of mediocre events, at least they were something, or seemed to be, at the time. The feeling of a tennis racket bouncing off the back of a head! Wake up, if you ever want to sleep at all. Smartie is where? The important thing to do, is amass vast quantities of money. Lately, ejaculation has been like watching flowers bloom, a, uh, slow process. Don’t be surprised, if your parents don’t allow you to read this, I sure as hell won’t be. Don't let them learn your name, or you're really in for it. What is called for, are more armrests, more cup holders! Give the vacuum one more chance. There is a lot of room left. Every time I think about her, my hand automatically goes down to my crotch. My skin came off, the killer thought he was a high ranking, military official. It’s not a lake, it’s a flood control, project. It’s in the combine. I'm "that guy that used to work here". The sump pump has ceased functioning. Slap a jelly on it. The spider had some kind of sex with me. This is no bikini chase, with moisture there, and stiffness, here. Electrocution works wonders, but you've got to be careful how you direct the current. Sixty-six something percent, has already been cut, daily. There is no room for disappointment, weakness, sorrow, false fireplaces. Some of our best ideas, are over most quickly forgotten ones. Face the damn meaninglessness.