Wednesday, March 29, 2006

150

What's your sign? Ameliorate me! There's something very bizarre, in my head, right now, there is a huge family of invisible people, in the van. The whirlygig is calling me, with its squeaking howl! I just wanted to throw everything into the street, instead, I sold all I owned, for macaroni and cheese. He really was strange, not him, the one who punched all the holes in the wall, a lot about him was odd. Dreams of the chair with the broken leg, hmmm.. who did the smashing? Some things just didn't completely make sense. So, then, it's ... stop with the ellipses! We know what you're going through. Hey, lesbians! Enjoying the plagiarism, propaganda, monster trucks? That dreaded inside lane? All gone! Hold your hands down at your sides, manners are everything, in this day, and age. What I wouldn't give, to stop driving down that street. One page a day, a book in the pocket? Leave at the most inopportune moment. She slumped and masturbated, in the “used to be kitchen,” or so it seemed. The car, the bike, walking in with Ms. Shocking! She misses me, over and over. Two in the cafeteria, these things are catching up with me, 500 sheets of half real, taffy. Blitzed by my moaning, the carnival walk through. Never, oh yeah, did (pig noises) that, too. Coming down a little rough. Plain English, plane mathematics, golly, I lost my geepers, golly, dammit. What was that word? Oh yeah, cripes! Shut up, Mootsy; lips. Loner, tries to be a weirdo, winds up insane, out of breath. These tics you've got, indicate, tardive dyskenisia. The truck stop on the luge track, I slid into New Years, almost, with a cracked open head, and nose, tearing off this face/farce. The remainder of us, settle for the rest. No one asked you how you fit into the situation, can't you just accept that you don't always have to be the center of attention? My how smart we think we are, all of us. We're really little monkeys. I love you, Edna, I'm blocking the free flow of expression, I'm floating up out of my body right now, how can this be? All I’m saying, is that somebody, sucked a dick, somewhere. I have little, or no, income/remorse. It’s almost like, we’ve got to get famous, or die… The bulldog just sat, and panted, his manners were perfect. In an effort to make it better, well, it became much worse. Deodorant is deodorant. Don’t bring up the Polynesian blimp “accident.” Mouthwash is mouthwash, enemas are enemas, when does it end? They had sex in such a way, that they looked like epileptics, there was screaming, moaning, crying. Just for instance, those are not your tits ... you don't have to look at your face right now. And how did you know it would happen in the car? It's a part-time bed, just mentioning that it feels like, you’re sleeping in the same bed with her. You can rule the world... or at least collect pennies. My back is soft, Ronald is looking at me funny, again. Drink! There's no reason not to, except that you'd better be careful, you know how many stupid things you've ... on second thought, don't drink! And leave the drugs to the professionals. Super low price, there is no way to cut this into chapters, and paragraphs, nothing quite like this, has ever existed, that doesn't mean it's good. Don't comment on luggage, it's just a convenient way to store things. By the time I’m done, there will be a great, big mess. They will try to put me into a camp. Clarity, we must have our precious clarity. There are so many things I want to be, but, am not. Do not send any literature to this house! Let the pros handle the tufts. I intermingled amongst them, at a time, if you must know, that riots were just bound to happen. This is a lowly form of ruin. Nothing is pointless, if done out of love (awwww). Profound, exalted? We’ll wave the book in anger, with love, leverage. The brain is where the mind/conciousness debate, both begins, and ends. Acorns become trees, but why this acorn? An index of streets, tools, mushroom shaped ejaculations. This reminds me of you, your rights, wrongs, property, experience. Punctuate, speed is not the object, here. The drawer is gone, that fits that nightstand. It was a pad of some kind, good for the lumbar support system. Trademark indistinct, rumors, spare tires, they just stand outside the building, and stare into the windows. Every once in a while, someone will go out and talk to them, substantiate them. Man, that shirt really smells. This can t be taken out of context? Wander through the caves, beneath the former hotel, there should have been crime, but never was. The fur was fake, the laundry basket was overflowing, this guy needs help. Face it, deal with it, if possible, and put it behind you. What is all this? It is not a record of enlightenment, at all.
The driver thought I was, thirty-five? Leave the hanger lying on the ground, right where it is. This phenomena, is all too common! What is it, this time? I'm a scratched, and broken, record, my "themes," are worn out, and insubstantial. My philosophy is mere opinion, it is what I believe in, yet, so what? What did I write earlier on that grey folder? Pause, while I transcribe, wow, a whole page! The clouds are ascending, the sky is falling, the stars are there, the thing, in place. Cluster seizures, my heart, major arteries. and minor capillaries, nearly torn asunder, from my chest cavity, but, who does the pulling? Visions of brains with spinal cords, and eyes popping out, I really saw them. What do I like? The sound of the chain rattling up against the flagpole, leaves in a whirlwind, a marionette for the air, a sniffle for a stuffed doll, and the pain of no one watching. Trees held up by slits, stilts. Is it a wall when no ones looking? A reflection off the road, so I won't run into her. Could it be a will-o-wisp, that has me seeing things in certain shadows? Other notes from the margin, a demonstration of your abilities, in the fine art of hand washing. So, I let them paint my face. Don't you diagnose, it's not a symptom, unless “someone,” tells you it is, it keeps you free of vermin. I swallowed my tongue! And the character of it? Nevermind that, these instructions are verbal. Just you remember what we discussed, tin foil man. Magistrates, governors, misdocumented! The elegance of violence. To have really strongly held beliefs, and convictions, for a long time, then, let them go, or they are forgotten, I'm not sure, which. There is no advice, to be given, or received. Slipping on ice, and cursing aloud. Sometimes, no matter how much you wipe, you just can't get it all out. You find out later, whether you did it right, or not, when you feel the underwear peel away. I can't get any closer to the monkey's eyes, and still keep my sense of identity. Rebellious Hindu's, are the only possible people in the world, to have any real fun with. We talked about cars at first, just to break the ice. As Socrates put it, a long time ago, the only wise people, are those who know how ignorant they are. Perhaps, I have gone way too far this time. No one is off track. Go ahead and turn the lamp on, and off, do other unbelievable things. There are no blueprints to life, and even if there were, all the materials are different. People have been making fun of my sensitivity, for twenty years, how can I still care? Some things, we don't have to worry about anymore. Potential? That was something I possessed, long ago. It doesn't get you anywhere. What's the problem, then? Monotony, rough drafts, and merit badges, go out into the woods, and stay there, alone, for two weeks. If there were such a thing, I would be the reincarnation of Rudolf. Colors are flying by my eyes, right now, and they assume the shape of geometrical objects, not unlike the yellow pomegranate. How much... stealing mango's? You've changed. How do you know, you could've done it any other way? They scream it three times, from Holland (or worse). Picking petals off the window pane. Reality is a very difficult phenomenon. Torn away, how can it be read, now? The robots are down in the basement. Witness the origins of a poisoned, demented mind! It's 1:42 P.M., and I'm bored. We all want the biggest piece of pie (so, look out). Invert your sex organs, please. The student center is no more entertaining, than staring at the wall. Something crucial, is missing. Mask those urges (unspeakable), darling. We’re overloaded, it’s gone too far, too wrong, and it’ll only get worse. Zero fat, zero calories, apply the ointment, keep the binder. Tell everyone! I don't know what happened to it. Almost done, at least, with the first part, looking back, doesn't do me any good, anymore. Destroy the giant candy cane, upset determinism. This chair became my makeshift desk, the crayons became my pen and pencil set. The distractions of the globule, must be averted. Things could be different, but they never will be. I will set off to Texas, to find employment. We are all, really screwed up. You’ve gotta’ be against, something. How much more "suffering," can any of us endure? Puberty gave me time to reflect on how long it took, to get to that point. Who's the best boy (made of saffron)? Nobody cares about my “brilliant ideas for the theatre.” Oh, I had that surgically removed (that’s the end of that). Shrink down into the very carpet fibers, themselves.
In trying to convince ourselves, not to do something, we inadvertently, and almost always, convince ourselves, to do it. The plot thickens, it's accumulating around my midriff. Too old for this, unequivocal, I'm just trying to protect myself, but (hee-hee), I'm the enemy! So, what (how) does this ... I'm not sure of anything, excepting, curtains, will cure me of this air addiction, I've got. I use girls that I see, as inspiration. Folded up message on the floor, seven theories of human nature, a bill, an eye appointment; but will I ever again get to that point, Mister (moose arm)? Unbearable loneliness, no one can help me, I may turn to crime. Tell that flit, I wanted to flick him, had a chance. Fill up the pages, write what you screamed (Ah-ha!). I want it so badly, sometimes, but must be in complete control, of it. This is impossible, even when I lay down on my back, the blue tints from the eyes of the dead, attack me. Maybe, then, on Halloween, stop it, asshole, it won't make any difference. Who am I to even presume, half the shit I write about? There really are no true autobiographies. "Hi girls, my name is Francis, and I'm dumb and funny." I've tried this, it doesn't work, either. Definitely running from highway songs ... into the woods. Turn it off. Carousing through the bar, saying, 'say you,' to everybody. Is this, or is this not, the way to spoil a friendship? Lessons for the enigmatic: study Empedocles. Hee-Ho Christ, now we know, chaos is all we've got (that, and headless action figures). You call me mentally ill, but I’m neither one way, or the other. So drunk, that there would have to be, more than one place, open twenty-four hours. There he was, in the produce section. There really is a lot to be sad about. The standard definition, professors turning into animals, think about your fragile ego, then, throw the two by four, into Loon Lake. All over swear words, sensationalism, and exploitation, we’re not out of the woods, yet. Where your stuff is, was where we went. A witty antagonist, submerged beneath a sardonic smirk. I'll get you with the buckshot of obscurity, this helps me to form the sentences. Faces, or leaves with teeth. The thing isn't moving, Zeno was right. Now, that's handwriting! Belief that existence is senseless, useless, belief that societal conditions, warrant destruction. The new maestro of epistemology, Idaho is expatriateland. That stupid book! Phenomenalism provides no answer, you, and your ad-hoc, spoon bending. Dive into the flux, revel in the void, tell friends in Europe, about the graveyards that we have, around here. It has happened, that I have become so stimulated, by some specimen walking along the side of the road, that I have had to pull over, and relieve the tension, at once. Logic, is a mere, psychological generalization. Fingers are pointed, but I didn't do it. We are not made in God’s image, he is made/invented/created, in ours. Please be advised, that for the better (or worse) parts, of the past five years, I have been withering away, in collegiate institutions. Your rationality, is your problem. No one wants to die, really. Dipthong on the television, can't convert anybody, over to anything, sure, he's wise, in certain circles. Wisdom does indeed, work in very strange ways. I just want to stop eating food. Like a huge ass, nipple.
I thought this would help. Refer to the ever present, sign in sheet. Physiological problems got you down? Paper is something we can't do without. "Your account is overdrawn, I'm afraid I'm going to have to place you under citizens arrest." These words are good (for the colon). Just in case, lets edit those suicide notes. There, I feel better already. Vodka swilling toad, I have often fancied myself a gentlemen. At the end of that film, the boy and girls’ pictures, were quickly juxtaposed, so we didn't know which was which. There they are, inches from my fist. Sad, but true, but is a waif, an accurate representation? And it goes like this, actually, yeah, that makes sense, too. Hiding behind 100% cotton/polyester blend, evolution, I blow my nose, on two clean, lavender towels. Germs are taking over my respiratory system. Arsuan, Aesuan, exactly four forty four. What was it Hume said, about human nature? Yeah, I remember now. C'mere, you little pansie faced, gopher boy. Let me see your hands! Ghosts surround my hair piece. Oh, ohhhh, snippets from an episode of Hemlock. That was not so hard, yet... we must make time, to tear apart human apertures. Faces at my window, to make me jump, I'm slowly, so slowly, losing my mental composure. Oh, that's just Sandy's new Jesus Christ doll! Orange dot, pagan elephant, hurt. Her, she is that which you seek. There was a human/animal sex act, but how'd they know? Hidden cameras? I'm a diesel, in an unleaded, biosphere project. Repetition is really ... How many dice rolls does it take? So long ago, yet the same, now we know why we kept this, all these years. The punishment is over, but the discipline was harsh. All over the dashboard, we are the same. Push my button, I'll buzz the door for you. Look at the thousands of breasts, sticking out of the wall. The world doesn't make any sense, why should this book? No parking at any time, is the start of the whole problem. Restraint and release, special low prices, annoying, strident voices. Right now, I can do anything, but who knows what'll happen tomorrow? Actually, Nietzsche didn't go far enough! Just thimble your way around. They came walking up the stairs, in their own world, looking more like icicles, than I'd ever seen two women look before. People can either be real, or worry about who's looking at them. We did a full nuclear pat down, underneath graffiti-less bridges, we got around. The alcohol is already playing really rough, with my ideas, and/or perceptions, but I'm going to just one more party, and I'm going alone! The bike rode quite smoothly, across the railroad tracks. Twice in one day, different versions of each one. Knock on the door, I will sit here, and be normal, for your benefit, stop hollerin'. He was a witness, I just had to tease him, "Injun Bob," I called him, he had his own ideas about what was going on. Whimper and whine, your way to the catbox. I must have said, "you need love, Bob,” about twenty times. I’m ready to do something else, now, but it’s too late. And he's the exact opposite of how he appears, very quiet, reserved. Come back to it. The sounds are too loud. The wallpaper is transparent, my notions were only that of omission. My ear! If you don't know what you're talking about, shut the fuck up! Nothing is more disrupting, than another self-appointed, "expert." As for why I left, I haven’t a clue. No productive behaviors on my part, no plan, no grand scheme, just nausea, and fixation. Re-reading things, what a shame, memories are blurry, by nature. The secret to my life, I do things that don't make sense, and, I regret them, later. All the same, alternate timelines, wishes. These are some daft reminiscences, full of desires, that aren’t real. I smell terrible, there's no hope, maybe, if you were independently wealthy. Things being as they are; a blessing, or a curse? Saying what can’t be said, can this be done? Things aren’t going to work out in my favor, are they? Hairspray girls, nervously checking their waistlines. Star, monkey, star, monkey. A glass of water, sonic refraction, piles of pastels, and ancient ceramics projects. Is it true, that all you care about, is pussy/cock? You could, but, why would you? Obsession, with a girl on television. So much, so many things, just get impossible to describe any longer. Please, try to forgive me. I merely sit, and blurt, sleep, at least twelve hours a day, this doesn't seem like enough, most times. What's it like to not want to wake up, and be surprised, that you did? What is called for, is a decision. Months pass, I need inpatient care, what regrets I have! It pales in comparison, to this body, this reality. Tired of all I stand for. This pen is running out of ink, I thought about writing with blood, over the sink, thought about it. That goddamn pen, stuck to my hand, blue, with a chewed up cap. I don't care about anything! See their sing along. These are the “long way, Indian, curves.” Tamper with the taboo. Like another shot at fame, blown wide.