Friday, March 24, 2006

114

You can't make love happen, or anything else, that isn't already there. I can't do anything, anymore, than this, this useless, pointless, stupid project. The montage was cruel, yes, it hurt me. Each and every one of us, is going to pay, dearly! A lot of years have been shaken up, in the meantime. My slack became my friend, the only one who could still stand me. We can't exactly do whatever we all want, now, can we? Many scripts were written, during the mental hospital years, only to be destroyed, subsequently. I know what my problem is. Don't leave any shit in the sink. None of my assessments are correct, but I keep on making them, and they get more, and more wrong. She wants us all out, and who can blame her? The dangers become dangerous, themselves, with the mere mention of them. You've got to do a hell of a lot more than accept, all the millions that are out there, for the taking. It has come to my attention, that people are arriving at work, stoned, and even that they are getting high, at work, during work. We say we value your patronage highly, etc. American slaughter, oh, I mean, know-how. The break, big or otherwise, never took place, things haven't gotten any better. Jail is always a possibility. Please, just try to hurry. Milk is often overlooked. Nothing ever, really, changes. Back to the lunchroom horrors? We live a few philosophy boy questions, still. Shove your dot.com bullshit, fuck off! Don't give up, or in, no matter how many people tell you, it's all in vain. Were you supposed to go to Dearborn, and didn't? No more laughter, is allowed. Pass out the tree soup, put up all the chairs; those who have decided, somewhere along the line, not to grow up. This is not as wide-ranging, as I hoped it would be. I am over! I saw you at the bookstore, on the corner. Afraid to work, struggle, commit, begin, end, go on, go forth. I can't any longer deny, that that, was what I felt for you, then. These are certainly not the good times, are they? Top it, be better, I don't know quite know how, to stand here. We are alienating far, far, too many people. The mirror is what killed me. Problems all around, nothing ever worked. Do something different, anything, really. All is flux and flow, and we're better off, that it is. The book, I don't care about it anymore. Why gumdrops? So, take that "advice", stop waxing and waning, about it. The undercover cops, are pretending to be walking dogs, or roller skating. You can lift her up there against that thing, and go at it, that way. God Product, please forgive me. Trying to leave the books behind? How many pairs of pants have you ruined, in the past month, with "farts"? Blow a few minds, with the satellite toy. This is one strange roller coaster. There is a raccoon on the roof, right now! Busy, sloppy, closer, further away... Down and out would be a relief, compared to where I am now. Some people find out too little, too late. Smooshie, smooshie, what's next? We can't even allow ourselves, to get too comfortable, with what we have. At one time, I believed that hard work would be enough, but no longer. The fears have become long-standing beliefs, I need to hang it up, before it's too late. We must get, and stay, on the cutting edge. Right in the middle of a rush, I missed the eighteen hour casting call, in the rain. I only include the punchlines, here, for lack of space. What is that taste in my mouth, is it semen? I just had a vision, of her. Would you really feel better if you were just like everybody else? Give me back my clothing. Somehow, somewhere, I went psycho, asshole. Eating muff (who?)? No one does all they want to do, or says all they have to say, so what? I’ve started drinking. The niche was filled, the chance was taken. I was shot, with a top secret weapon. At the end, the torture and torment, won't matter anymore. It's high time to start applying for grants. There is something big, that I was supposed to learn, somewhere along the line, and didn’t. I find myself in a peculiar position, no matter what the hell I do. The flanking, the gorging of the ribs, my retarded nature, my inanimate sojourns, my ideas for the theatre… It was all erased!
Some kind of tar heating machine, was abandoned at the end of the one way street. I must be on some kind of bender, with death! I will not go to the bar, and just stand there. This is efficiency capitalism. No one is floating off of any beds. Left handed hearts, let's try preventing, exercises, see, I lack the looks I thought I had, I know this shouldn't happen. These things happen, but nothing, is automatic. How to have a real life, part two: fake it! If only we could forget, just forget the shit, and go forward, or move in any direction at all. We really don't need, any of that stuff. You better go get your teaching certificate, your next plan. Turn a more slippery kind of wet. Bite into your food, before chewing it! I want to create the most amazing, spectacular thing, ever, so far, this, is what I’ve come up with. Panic can get you through a few painful, bloody, murder scenes, but only a few. The view from here and there, is the same. The unedited wails, are like nightmares of animals; fires that can’t be put out, or even controlled. Both the speech impediment, and the overbite, were faked. The network isn't working. The pages themselves, seem to be coming alive, and walking out of the room. All I do these days, is sleep. Fear makes me not do things, that I need, or want, to do, which would improve my situation. A lot of times, you have to act like an idiot, to deal with idiots. No one, no one, will let us live our lives, our own way. The foolish stories of a drunk man, don't interest anybody. I forgot to mention almost passing out in the bathroom. Wipe the spittle off your beard! We read, what difference does it make? We can't live on the wages we earn, you stupid cow tippers. It takes a long time to get familiar, so long, that once most people "get it", they don't want it anymore, in the long run, I'll be just as screwed. How could I forget those first days at the logging camp, I can still feel your symptoms. Too much sleep, way too much, and to be honest, still tired. It's work, not a love-in, I'm begging not to be... Who we are, as people (in the face of death), as human beings, is the only question to be asking. It takes more than a year, for shit to even be exhibited. My disease, is way contagious. There are things that we can't even imagine, which are being produced right now. The suffering continues, despite the half assed... How much if it is an act? Ignore the rich, I want to matter, cabbage, lettuce, cauliflowers, sequins, leather, snakeskin. Every word was to resonate with... Are they laughing at you, or with you? No lip problems, to slow me down anymore. Leave the eighteen year old girls alone. We all know that what we really, really want, to have happen, is never going to happen. They advertise their sexual prowess, and conversational flair, for all to see. What did you do? We can do without muffins and scones. Are our problems being adequately remedied? I'm too upset to move, or some such inanity, always seems to be in the way. My body heat is escaping through my abdomen. Faces turn, to look, and stare, where was I? There are a lot of bitter people in the world. Celebrity deaths are hitting closer and nearer to home. Don't be a callous ass, what can we do except move with traffic? It all goes on, whether we want it to, or not! I might as well admit to you, that I am totally insane. There is nothing to stop me, but myself, and I've done that, long enough. You look so fresh and clean, like a shopping mall. Hurl into the hairpin curve, look out for the deer. We are all very sick, as you were all along? Nothing is going to happen, is it? I really should have, years ago? Avoid the road. Watch those sexy feelings, as they arrive, and subside. We’ve all got to pay. Forget the limitations, we put them on ourselves. I stumbled in the general direction of the old elementary school, intent on committing a crime. Boring ass concerts, keep occurring. Is there even a chance in hell, of our, getting over these fears? I only think I’m alive. It’s all moldy, incomplete. Contempt leads to other, even more terrible thoughts, and states of mind. There is a nasty smell, in this room. We block too much out, too easily. I will find myself in court, yet again. Are you guys drug dealers? This is a joke, and it's not funny. It might just seem simple, in fact, I already know this to be the case. You don’t have any idea yet, of what you’re going to do with your life, do you? This is a trick I’ve devised, to keep me alive, for awhile. The musty, sex smell, has returned to the room. I should just go out and get drunk, but see, I’ve tried that, dig? Slime accumulated, between my legs.