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Portable energy packets, this is a phone trick, I know. Everything is taking too long. Cream all over the tarp. As I've said before, between slim and none, is better odds. What good is it, to be intelligent, if they're just going to beheaded for it? As for my fears, and phobias, yes, I have them, but they're not cute, funny, “alternative," phobias. They have to do with being murdered, and with me wanting to kill myself, to avoid being murdered. Clean it off. Laundry folded and put away properly, they never needed subliminal messages, or any real advertising, at all. Can't believe that I'm doing this, while I'm pulling into the parking lot, I still can't believe I'm here, again. What I do, in actuality; I keep my eyes glued to the sidewalk, being careful not to make eye contact, and I walk through the door. I am the leper in the corner, that you don't want to get close to. No one, myself included, knows why I'm smiling, for insanity, is sanity. One of my eyes is becoming crooked, and there's only six hours to go. How did you get turned all the way around, and where is your shirt? Moving images, didn’t concern them, thus, they were better off. I’m sorry, and I’m blaming this. Checking and re-checking the inside of your nose, for accumulated deposits? Forget about how crispy the chicken is. Lick my stump, you. Who bit the apple, and then put it back? My crimes against the state, didn’t pass by, unnoticed. The spent money, on nothing. What were they, Hummell’s? If it doesn't matter, why are you doing it? It’s getting late, as usual, the fire, has gone out. Floating, yellow circles, I said! To make parapraxes out of all of them, but they are immune, as I am immune. Thus, larger than salt grain maggots, are falling out of my ears, and hair. Ten or ten thirty, is more interesting, than right or wrong. Don't go back, you know what's going to happen. The three, or four days of really unbearable depression, that will follow... you're feeling anxiety, because what you are about to engage in, is the wrong thing to do. This is not excitement, this is an accent I can't understand, they've ruined the song. When Hipprocrates burped or farted, it was just his humors realigning. Brighter times, are sure to follow this darkness, I am darkness, as far as I can approximate. None of my neighbors like me, they think, and say amongst themselves, that I'm becoming, weirder and weirder. What good is “drop dead gorgeous,” wrapped in a plastic bag? This time honored clock, that ticks and tocks. Do you want to know about the terror? Jump into the tulip patch. Assured of a few more years? Failing to notice the blue in the shirt, for long enough, already. None of the psychiatrists, will ever understand. Close to the edge, zoom in on the boy. What's the code? What's the code? Overly concerned with safety, she is easy to freak out. Empty, wet, ridiculous, calling the radio station, late at night, for psychological advice. Bigger than sliced onions? See how greatness moves in subtle hues? They're starting to hiss, and attack each other. Crying alone in a parking lot, abandoned, but still trying to get attention. The other side, had Virgo waiting, all night. Him, slamming all over the floor, I know you're tired, but you have to stay up, to regulate yourself. Don’t waste any time. If they're going to call me out for just trying to do my job, I'm just going to walk out of here, right now. I see that paragraphs, could become a problem. Trying really hard to get this right. Can I sleep in your restaurant, for a few hours? So, people will get the idea that we've gone wildly anarchic? They were talking about weightlifting, and strong guys getting beaten up. What the hell does that mean? Open the door, walk out, close the door, then, lock the door, it means nothing to us, any longer. The moaning, reaches my ears, even from ninety-seven feet away. A slow drone, a monotonous, never ending, howl, for what? For no reason at all! So tired, so fast, really, really, really tired. Don't swear. Why not? You're not the boss of me, I'll swear if I feel like it. These are real words, shit, damn, and fuck, are real words! You are going to die! All those lies about having sex in the graveyard, the one with a nice view of the city. It was only for the first time around, eh (no, no, no), smartie? To wave into windows, without really having any idea of who's inside them. They must ... there are no rumors that have any relevance, in a town of this size. Could it have really been the money? Maybe all of this anguish, is merely from my trying to mask a burning desire. Maybe that would explain why ... let's drop this line of inquiry. You said I deserved a better grade, well, then why didn't you give it to me? I will scream louder, next time, if I ever get a chance again. Controversial? That kinda dumb looking guy, in the back row, left side, very close to the door? I felt like slipping out. The difference is that I'm pissed off right now, sufficiently pissed off, my entire world dried up, and slipped down into the sewer, now, I'm seeking revenge! Two quarts later, I am reeling in the bathroom, trying to aim the stream of urine into the toilet. Nope, I don't feel like mentioning them, not right now. Pissed off, no one to blame but yourself? Hey, join the club, we're the bush league, whack-offs! They weren't radical enough, in retrospect. Here's a really strange and eccentric man. What precisely does he do? Sits on the floor in restaurants. He doesn't wear belts, but his pants are constantly falling down. No chance, no way, no hope, no nothing. The dog came in, looked around, then left. It’s no walk in the subdivision.
Gargoyles, and other monsters, were stolen, or lost, at least, like your voice, like the late summer, that almost killed me. Trying to fill in spaces, trying to keep between the lines of the coloring book. Ride that rump, like a motorcycle. For a decent, low fat, low calorie, meal? There are none such things, to be found. High brow comedy, isn't so high brow, at all. Long, long poems, about the weather, and the government. Free second set of prints, or free film. The grey blinds are dirty, her image evoked, is swallowing me, I never knew that this worked, before. Close up, draw them, because they stand for something. Tangled nets of complexity, involved in a cogent way. Circles, with strings coming out of them, and your hand did this. Why must they bend up, move without my breathing, and seemingly, point at me? Going grey again, this is Iceland, and in our estimation, she's trying too hard. Another storm is coming, another ejaculation, armadegdon, pip in your pants. The precision of spiders, and you've got to clean the floor (fuck the floor). We’re unaware of too many things. Those people with bleeding voices, have something to prove. They used to make pillows out of this stuff. There were flashes of real color. Remain baffled, confounded, confused, bewildered. They weren't looking at you, that's clear to me, now. The depression, has got to lift, it’s undermining our effectiveness. Subject/predicate, sixteen earrings, get me to thinking, she's got “other things," pierced. There is no work, so we’re getting out of here. Finish the laundry. No! Why? Bubbling over the seam, right when I thought that things were getting better. Watching her dance, I had a sudden revelation! I was a mediocre student, I used to be a non-student, but I showed up, every once in a while. The 43 (forty-three) extremities, the polar opposites, these were the things I was thinking about. Throwing butter at the cafeteria ceiling. Swaying to and fro, fending off exhaustion, we were there! But, you hadn't been born yet (no matter, we were there). Every single time that I yank out a handful of hair, from my head, they are curly, I never knew. If there were more time, I could write you a bunch of cute, little, short stories, and psychological essays, as it stands now, though, I can't say it's futile, and I can't say it's not. But, then again ... man has never known what his fate was, until it fell in his lap. What was he getting at? You think I’m unclear? Don't force us to nibble, give us the meat, give us Pantheism. Don't call me Betsy, don't call me Charlie. I was walking along the train tracks, about twenty feet ahead of two friends, who happened to be tripping out on acid at the time. I've never done acid, believe it, or not, and they ran up to me, and asked what I was thinking about. I said, “regret... suicide," maybe I shouldn’t have. Nerves perform a great disservice upon us. This goes back a long way. I really can't imagine there being any way of topping some of the experiences I've had, left to my own devices. Who wants to have to talk to a person, and fake all that drooling, gooey, nonsense? Activate your imaginations! I'm too well known in certain circles, to expound at the present time. There is no order, or regularity, in the world, to speak of (HA, HA!), thus, you will not find any here. This was a big mistake. We can't smoke in the house where I’m living, ergo, the entire two foot perimeter around the joint, is littered with wet, slimy, withered up, non-biodegradable, cigarette butts. Those, and other things, never go away. People can complain about them all they want, or make me clean them up, but I'm not quitting, I will be responsible for the way I leave this planet (one way, or the other). Let it take you someplace else. Mere exposure, makes people attractive. There is a lot more I could say about that, but I'll leave that up to you. They will not play what I ask them to. The nauseating Sunday morning feeling, hasn't really hit me in a couple of years, because it's all just one big, long, day, that blurs together. I’m already aware that I have taken all this time, and done all this work, for absolutely nothing. Some "mystic," way back when, decided that, no, there were indeed, days, weeks, months, and years. You’ll become one of the boring people soon, if you haven’t already. It's all bullshit! We’re sick of being in ruins. Why do we waste all your mental, and physical, resources, trying to play a role, look a part? Give in to lust, if you can get it. There's no assurance? Be assured of this, sap, when applied to the forehead, can be rubbed back, and used as a scalp balm, but be careful, no one will know why you're crying, otherwise! They have seen this, the kickstand is down. They used to teach little kids to get on the floor, and cover their heads underneath the desk, as if this would save them from atomic destruction ... this is probably the most poignant memory, from elementary school. The same people are in charge! Different faces, but the same people. Remember the guy who wrote large, because he wanted the king to see his name, without his glasses on? Well, let them see this now; this myth will end. No one has any idea what that means, and they like it that way. The cult of deception, the web of deceit, they spin all around us. Millard Fillmore, is (like a lettuce exploding). Throw the milk bottle, hard. The drugs will be used. I can’t fool myself.