I Wandered Through An Ancient Ruin and Found A Nurse With Wound

I just can't see anything my eyes are presenting to my brain. So this is the reason why eyes can't see, but ¿why? Maybe it's just the sence of sight that we know of is wrong. Maybe there's a little bug inside our heads that is tickling our brains. The bugs are eating away our brains very slowly at this moment, that explains why at the end we don't remember anything anymore. But what will we see when that tiny little bug isn't there at all? Our eyes will become a useful tool to observe other braininfesting beeings or substances.

He rose slowly from his chair and walked to the window to look into the street. "You have no idea. No idea at all, and soon... soon..." he said aloud as he looked down at the people below. He turned and left the room, leaving only the dust and darkness. Ahh, but there would be other times yet.
Brother Fong was thusly admonished by the Master.
FUCK
Getchen wearied of his manly advances. She pulled out the shotgun and shot him (with calm precision) twice through each testicle.
The Exquisite Corpse was another person who was used in a line break, paragraph, or emphasized text, but the idea stayed basically the same. essentially what I am presenting here, is a game played by the authors and the world. characters are not inserted, However, but the writers used a bit in the html.
"PURTLE!!!!" screeched the ailing mountain as she breathed her last drink. Quickly she just faded, leaving only a musty, fibrous plinth behind her. "This must be our weapon for good" announced Steven to the assembled members of Volcano The Bear, who had been assembling marshes and clouds in the foreground.
Daniel touched Aaron touched Nick touched Laurence touched Steven touched Daniel touched Aaron touched Nick touched Laurence touched Steven touched Daniel touched Aaron touched Nick touched Laurence touched Steven touched Daniel who screamed. Steven's hands had grown cold.
Cold, Colder Still, Coldest
COme on now you fairy
The little man turned around at hearing his name so brazenly butchered, a sour expression on his face. His eyes were alight from some source deep within, and he tip-toed over to the giver of the affront. Straining on his toes, he reached up and struck the hapless child full on the ears, which did not have the desired effect. The small child giggled with unsupressed glee, and bounced around in its carrying case. The little man's expression grew even darker at this turn of events, and the lines of his scowl were as of those carved in stone. His glare was met by the gurglings and cooings of the toddler, who after a pause again cried out the offending words, with no inkling that they were harmful or insulting. The little man began to wind himself up into a rage, and those around him in the square began to cast wary glances in his direction. A small tapdance of indignation exploded from the little man, and still the target of his wrath simply dangled in front of him and watched on with injurious attentiveness. Small pieces of the little man began to fly off, and the previously wary spectators cast off their curiosity and began to flee in all directions, fearful of the poisonous rain which was now hurtling down upon them. Through it all, the little man's eyes were locked on those of the small child, but this gaze meant two completely different things to the two participants in the exchange.
Dream excerpt: 100 or so monkey looking creatures, probably about ten to twelve inches tall, are hanging from the ceiling in what seems to be some sort of a cocoon. (?) It seems that I wanted to catch them so I ran into the bathroom and grabbed a towel. I tried to wrap the towel around them to gather them up but they were slipping through as they were dropping out of the cocoon. They fell down to my ankles and began to bite and chew on my flesh through my pants. I began to flail and toss them all over the room. (Switch scene)- Wild boar caretaker seen on expedition with my father. (Switch scene)- Monkey-demonlike creatures began to change into furry little dog-like creatures, some of them pink and some of them green. Dream sequence end.
I am presagefull. Kinesics always win.
I'd left my shoes outdoors,laying atop a stack of old and unread newspapers and decaying,worm ridden vegetables.This does not matter,because i'd spent the whole of my day searching for the toes that inhabited those shoes,screaming out the names of all the saints that came to mind in my frenzy over lost anatomy.Had I chosen to look directly under the piles of unfinished taxidermy located outside in my wind battered shed,I should have found them all,living like roaches in the festering and depraved ecosystem they'd made for themsevles.
The blackened figures came twords me ..they opened there mouths to scream and the sound of music boxes filled the room....a thousand animated music boxes screamed at me from every crevice..Trying to stop me from thinking from moving... i picked up the the blacked arm on the floor to swing it at them in defense.. the fingers moved and writhed as if they were seaching for the lost ring on my finger...it started to sooth me with a harpsicord suite...i danced with the figures and the arm untill,exhausted, i fell to the floor..and when i atlast the blind was removed from my eyes, i realised that i was walking into the hall and it was time for tea..the white queen sat waiting patiently as i related the happenings of the day .. while alice simply stared off into space, drugged and pathetic, the whore to the catapillar and all of the flowers.. the blacked figures played on..
I Love my rooster my rooster loves me, cockadidoodledidoddledumdi, cockadidoodledumdidumdoodi, dadidledumdidledadidledumdi,
Sadly, his day had come to an end and he had not even realized it had begun.
and there was a terrible light in the darkness.
The time of the golden cockerel had come as the sun glinted off the curved helmet that crowned it's head and the sonorous voice of night gave way to the braying and screeching of daytime, the time of man, when balance and reality are tilted akimbo until that radiant star goes to bed and the mouth of dusk ate the last light of another revolution of the twelve-spoked cycle that made up the program ingrained in his wetware known as time.
The incessant invisible buzzing of insects around our heads is an ongoing and solarplexing puzzle that must be unsolved.
I think my best friend's just committed suicide
and then a boy entered the room. he must had about twelve years old, and he was completly naked and had a knife in his and, and he had no hair, in his head, in his croth, anywhere. and he said I will kill you. i recognized him.
standing over the words and watching which one to use since none of them can be used in order to express your part of the truth....
***dodge cars and drink root beer***
OPERATION: Sharply stabbing, invidious in an insecure inversion (muted happiness feelings) recursive to a forgettable dining experience. (dicursive sexual apparatus, misconceived) Lo, onward, land amidships. Practical, yes, no, yes, whee. Thence forward intrinsically, inscrutably (thence trinsically and scrutably backwards), breaking open misconstrued delusions in a Chinese manner. YES YEAH
OPERATION: Sharply stabbing, invidious in an insecure inversion (muted happiness feelings) recursive to a forgettable dining experience. (dicursive sexual apparatus, misconceived) Lo, onward, land amidships. Practical, yes, no, yes, whee. Thence forward intrinsically, inscrutably (thence trinsically and scrutably backwards), breaking open misconstrued delusions in a Chinese manner. YES YEAH
Exquisitly eating the corpse of a handsewer she saw a rapidly moving window. Here it is! - she thought, and within a moment a reddripping sofa flew in through the window, and crashed the door. Miles Davis is dead, was that yellow thought, My God! Miles Davis is ded ded ded ded, and John McLaughlin is not!!! What an aw!!!
"You wanna help me move this big piece of cheese?" She was taller than I was expecting and smelled of some herb I couldn't place. "I'm not sure how much help I'll be with this broken wrist, but sure, I'll give you a hand." She smiled and motioned me to the cheese with a nod of her head. The cheese, which was dried and crusty yellow, didn't have much odor and was very heavy. "I've been trying to move this for two days" she said and smiled again as we hefted the wheel onto its side and began rolling it toward the village. Her herby smell was stronger than the faint odor of the cheese and as we pushed and rolled, it became almost overpowering.
i am the poison.
Sometimes a wind blows and the mysteries of love come clear
rock, bitch, maffia
i rocked the boat with my fishing line and went back to see john doe play football with the rams and the pats on sunday. i was hurting from the hole punched in my stomach by my girlfriend. i was hoping she still loved me. but i'm alone. and the smiths are playing a sad song. and i'm a sad man. where have i gone... where am i going?
Hi. Hello. How are you? What's up? What's happening? Howdy. Hi-Di Ho. Hello There! Ta. Hell'o Their. Hell, Oh........There. So sorry. High. Fuck it. (?)
Anxiously, he plunged himself into the abyss that lay before him.
when i looked down i saw milions of gummi-salamanders patterned escher-esque and swarming about my feet through a pond of sparkling discharge from the fire extinguisher. As I peered closer, I hardly noticed as the multi-pastelled candy creatures ascended in a transluminescent film past my concious energies. This revealed milions of atomic bead-bugs that passed through my hands as I reached to grab them. All I could do was sit and stare at length and in awe while they flicked around my feet through the burning lime-scented dust. And then there was urine!
His rapid movements of his hand rubbing his penis were quickly interrupted by
the sudden noises through the walls. Lonely house not so silent.
Fucking maggots!!!!They like to play these hideous games wih me!!!I try to be still and pretend they aren't there but it is no use!They hoot and catcall while I try my best to sleep!They plant flowers with savage thorns beside my bed so they will gradually grow and injure my poor feet in the future!Sick,demented,fucking maggots!!!!What has died in here and aroud me that provokes them in such haste!!!!!Why the armies????I have not eaten in days...they rob me of my cuisines to watch me suffer!!!Oh,god..please!!!What has died???????Why are they here to torment me????Nothing out the window near the heavy stones lay dead!!!!The Refrigerator has been empty for days!!!!!No old carcasses to fill it with rot and flies!!!!Oh jesus,pleease!!!!Tell me what has died!!!!!!! ......or maybe it was I............
Indegestion, damn stomach cramps up whenever I set the television in the corner of the room. Fresh floor varnish smells like buttered rum, at least this soothed the atmosphere. I knew the only appliance I needed was what was giving me trouble, but I couldn't let go, I possibly feared another complaint if I tossed more machinery out the window, but my remaining salvation depended on the
the infinite grace and compassion of the little crooked god. There in the heart of the all he found me, casting cryptic cliches and quoting magickal madrigals. I wish my brother George was here. He'd fix them all, fix them all good.
Yes, he'd know what to do. Bring in the love, push out the funk. I would counsel closed ears, for those who contain the great Ideas, have no opinions. Who doth know what his own subconsciousness contains? Still less his own Arcana. Oh Ikkah Zod-ka! They are the great who allow its operation by silence. Bring in the love, push out the funk. Of four things we have choice: degeneration or immobility. Thy fiction of finality has prevented sleep and created eternity. Out of the past cometh this new thing. There is nothing conceivable that does not exist, because the vision is feeble. Still less his own Arcana. In keeping the right distance from Things, is Safety. Become less carnivorous, Oh Ikkah Zod-ka! Thy fiction of finality has prevented sleep and created eternity. If the food is wholesome, the body shall not suffer. The difference between man and beast is one of acquisition, not digestion. There is no lasting peace-ye eternally fall in love with the new thing of belief. Out of the past cometh his own Arcana, Abandon this haunted mortuary in a blind turning-by significant courage. The 'I' surfeit-swelled is the end of compassion-the indrawing of sex to Self-love. Fortunate is he who absorbs his female bodies-ever projecting-for he acquires the extent of his body. Whatever is desired, predetermines its existence in endless ramifications miserably and evanescent: Self-love is the paradox of I. Oh Ikkah Zod-ka! Thy fiction of finality has prevented sleep and created eternity. Oh Ikkah Zod-ka! Thy fiction of finality has prevented sleep and created eternity. Oh Ikkah Zod-ka! Thy fiction of finality has prevented sleep and created eternity.

...but the prairie was on fire.
The Exquisite Corpse was a game played by the surrealists which involved one person writing part of a sentence, then passing the paper onto another person who would write the next part, but without seeing the previous section. They would build sentences this way which were said to reveal hidden truths about the authors and the world. This idea was used in many different forms, but the idea stayed basically the same. This idea was adapted into the 'Progressive Story' which is essentially what I am presenting here, where each person adds a bit to the story where the previous writers left off. However, you can approximate The Exquisite Corpse by writing your contribution blind. HTML Formatting characters are not inserted, so if you want a line break, paragraph, or emphasized text you'll have to imbed the html directly into the text yourself before you submit it.
thank you very much for doing that clinton people did not wanna be on welfare more then half of american women will lose their fathers my father was a physician and he could be very overbearing some people are more able to see their fathers after they pass on fathers are better at conveying a sense of agency to their sons than they are to their computers ann norton your reaction? turn the channel its giving me a headach
benny put it back ive asked you twice already
?
And then, *foof* - it's all gone.

:::PLEASE PAY ATTENTION: THIS IS THE ONLY PART OF THE STORY THAT IS PROBABLY TRUE::: I awoke in darkness, cold metallic floor providing me the barest sense of location. The back of my head hurt pretty good where they'd sapped me, etc. To my horror
I felt something cold and wet. drip. drip. dripping into my ear.
You know how some people think that are psychic? Well, This may sound like a load of garbage but I am beginning to think that I have some sort of "connection" with my automobile. Just the other day as was delivering my papers I had a strange thought that something would go wrong with my car. As I continued on my route the thought had all but been forgotten when all of a sudden my car just died. The timing belt had gone out, as I was to later find out. The minds of men are becoming more in tune with their machines than with their people. Anyways, My car is a piece of shit!!! I believe I will seperate myself from this possession in a short period of time.
I WILL TAKE IT ALL I WILL TAKE IT ALL UNTIL MY MIND SPLITS AND I BECOME TWO OR THREE OR MORE THEY WILL REMAIN HIDDEN UNTIL CALLED UP TO SPEAK OR THEY AWAKE FROM THE SLEEP STATE MY MAIN HAS THEM UNDER
I thought to myself, but nothing came of it. I know, you all think I'm mad. Perhaps I am mad. Perhaps I am. I haven't proven that yet. Proof! That is what makes the world go round. We can't prove anything. We don't know if the world really does go round. And where am I in this place? Am not I? Perhaps the lone solipsist was correct. Perhaps he was all there was, ever was. Everything was his illusion, and his making. He died. The illusion collapsed. Am not I --> I am not. A simple rewording which ends with a discrete, but definite end. Perhaps I am mad. You all think I'm mad. But, "There is a pleasure, sure, in being mad. What that only madmen know."
I thought I had lost my touch, but i must have found it again. I never really knew the importance of my lemur tickling ability untill HE came along. With him there I never lost my esteem or felt that I wasnt tickling up to snuff. He made me believe in my fingers, he taught me to use them as a exquisite dabbling extension of my nether regions (Much like the monkeys in the zoo, struggling to escape the grasp of life). The last lemur i tickled (and will ever tickle) was him.
Lieutenant J.G. Lickspittle stood up at this, barely containing his anxiety: "Captain, I must strenuously object to activating the time machine! It hasn't been tested, and furthermore, we risk doing irreparable damage to the past as well as the future." Captain Beefheart, too far gone in the delerium of power to care much, shot Lieutenant J.G. Lickspittle between the eyes. He turned to the rest of the crew, asking lazily, "Does anyone else have any objection to my decision?" Silence. "Excellent. We'll proceed momentarily. Navigator, have you calculated the coordinates of my desired destination?" Nervously, Second Lieutenant Achmed Zanzibar replied that he had a lock on the exact point in the story that the Captain wished to return to. The Captain quietly ordered him to proceed. TRANSITION... RE-ORIENTATION... We call by the name 'anthrax' a dis-ease earlier known as 'hoof-and-mouth' dis-ease..... makes it sound like PAN has a foot fetish. So, have we really reached that point where the very essence of LIFE may no longer sustain itself via the means it has evolved? Are we in that exquisite GOLDEN PALACE where LIFE sees itself in a reflection and knows that it has outgrown its shape????? Is this shape of LIFE in its own throes of DEATH??? "Booooooooring," chuckled Captain Beefheart...
for when he was laughing his breath would make me throb
i lived a life of completely ignorance and decided to move about the world without leanrning, i simply wanted to observe. i hated women i thought. i hated them with a passion because of what i allowed them to do to me but then again they were such wonderful people... women were. they could love me and care and nurture and also break my fragile little heart. oh boohoo me, i'm such a little fucking whiner. its about time i stood on my own two feet and ran across the desert at a million miles an hour, watching as the cactus turn to streaks of lightning... i found myself in a wet storage room full of raw meat and breathing walls. there were nude women all around. full figured and alluring, watching me, touching themselves. where was i?
Crossbow to MM - mosswow from MM - Forming forms Uahaha iklobiwärfärügöd
people told me that it was born in me and it was going to grow. i never understood why... nobody told me why...!
but dear god; I made Jesus cry...
And it is this which allowed me to tickle your fancy. It's too bad, really. Suck some more luftballoons, you thick-walled grape!
it was worthless... made a fire in each hand, then every colour of the ocean smashed to my palms and wrote "wAAaave".
anyway,,,, the whales in ------ overwhelmed the whores in ------ (and in ------). but how could they? you don't know?i told you beforesofuck you
then where's the html ?
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! TO THE SLAUGHTER little daugther DEAD AND GONE long lost son TO THE SLAUGHTER little daugther DEAD AND GONE long lost son TO THE SLAUGHTER little daugther DEAD AND GONE long lost son TO THE SLAUGHTER little daugther DEAD AND GONE long lost son TO THE SLAUGHTER little daugther DEAD AND GONE long lost son TO THE SLAUGHTER little daugther DEAD AND GONE long lost son TO THE SLAUGHTER little daugther DEAD AND GONE long lost son TO THE SLAUGHTER little daugther DEAD AND GONE long lost son TO THE SLAUGHTER little daugther DEAD AND GONE long lost son TO THE SLAUGHTER little daugther DEAD AND GONE long lost son TO THE SLAUGHTER little daugther DEAD AND GONE long lost son TO THE SLAUGHTER little daugther DEAD AND GONE long lost son TO THE SLAUGHTER little daugther DEAD AND GONE long lost son TO THE SLAUGHTER little daugther DEAD AND GONE long lost son TO THE SLAUGHTER little daugther DEAD AND GONE long lost son TO THE SLAUGHTER little daugther DEAD AND GONE long lost son TO THE SLAUGHTER little daugther DEAD AND GONE long lost son TO THE SLAUGHTER little daugther DEAD AND GONE long lost son TO THE SLAUGHTER little daugther DEAD AND GONE long lost son TO THE SLAUGHTER little daugther DEAD AND GONE long lost son TO THE SLAUGHTER little daugther DEAD AND GONE long lost son TO THE SLAUGHTER little daugther DEAD AND GONE long lost son TO THE SLAUGHTER little daugther DEAD AND GONE long lost son TO THE SLAUGHTER little daugther DEAD AND GONE long lost son TO THE SLAUGHTER little daugther DEAD AND GONE long lost son TO THE SLAUGHTER little daugther DEAD AND GONE long lost son TO THE SLAUGHTER little daugther DEAD AND GONE long lost son TO THE SLAUGHTER little daugther DEAD AND GONE long lost son TO THE SLAUGHTER little daugther DEAD AND GONE long lost son TO THE SLAUGHTER little daugther DEAD AND GONE long lost son And mom was sobbing her brain out.
demonkäkarna drar sig tillbaka och lämnar oss åt oss själv.
Meanwhile.. far away.. the forest imps plotted their awakening.
But it was other
stars that wrote the letters
oggy smiled to the rats and said:
the policeman's head literally exploded
After athletic cunnilingus with a distant relative, I noticed three aunts, twitching, yelling, and sending spittle into the space between them. It was midday and I opened the window, letting the frigid air in over my lover's body, sending her scurrying for clothing.
alas, Dr.Pinkleton had to shuffle the toenail clippings to the tenure of certain hues of pink and blue. This had a catastrophic effect
SLAmpa !
They glared angrily past the towering landscape. Something dirty yet irresistable drew them from beyond.
two Egyptian figures were born out of wedlock, one had the face of a lion, the other equally majestic, a serpent devouring a Great White shark, twisting it's head about whipping, Lion brother is roaring, symbol of blood reaches the paper as black paint, it explains a hearse driving into a supermarket full of passengers, not simple spectators, but the forgotten with luminescence pouring from open mouths, the spotlight rampages through the definition of a miracle, form a crucifix with a syringe and a scalpel, project it as a silouette and offer your body as a sacrifice, make these darkened wings grow white, make these words span the oceans like sentimental poetry, no explanation of this species of Life, all the world cries and it becomes a choir, my cacophonous laughter becomes a violin and calls the screams to dance, the sorrow comes as the much needed gust to elevate a corpse, the grey body will eclipse the sun, and I will feed the beast king, with floating souls, each day a new murder occurs, if it was once prior on the television screen, it will soon be in your very living room, set your favorite relative to drift to sea, upon a burning pyre, to ensure the disease will not spread, in Roman times this may honor the influential, but not now, only to rid each bit of your relativity into a null status, so stroke my Snake Prince, and pet my Feline Proud, rotate the axis of the planet into reverse, pervert an unborn child, No celestial surgeon can seperate this production of lasting abortion, blow a kiss to the wind, I laugh only in a mocking fashion, huddled in a corner a family mourns a missing baby, his remains are my crown as I gnaw upon the seasons, Oh winter paint my new world white, I need to stain something with urine, Oh Spring make all things grow up green, I need crops to reap, a vampire feeds Oh Fall make all things rot and wither, my fingers snap to spark a wildfire Oh Summer stay away, this Medical age has come, and time has ceased, Funeral Day, load my gun with a bullet of tragedy and smile, alleviate my thinking device from it's home, silvery orb will slither into the mouth of my Devil children, they will mate upon a Christmas Day, and give birth to the new Antichrist, One solitary boy dressed as a patron of the sea, with white skin, and blue eyes, freed himself from the birthsack, wipe away a bit of leaking venom, it is purple on his lips, devour his cocoon and his infernal parents, craft a chariot from their skeletons, trample the remaining sparkles, now wake up and startle at the reflection in the mirror, how did you get dressed as a sailor? only one moment of weeping, now return to sleeping
apples and oranges cannot equate with the spectre of the bestial rape, I stand agape, what is slate, stone ground, nose shiny, miracles envy psirroasis break out, kiss the sheep-like priest, he lives within a picture frame, the stars hang and Judas sings, rearrange a face to spell watermelon, how did this happen? was it all just some stupid author with his dumb-dumb pen? making little giggles from behind his waterfall, sparkling rainbows mist, choking elephants, pandas eating acid, tossing cherubs through hoops of fire, puppets peek into the dressing room of the famed Muppets and wonder what they were missing, so they got a device of bludgeoning accord and smashed the entire discography of Neil Diamond, spinning like a Harlem globetrotter, oh worldy little ball you, I have a needle, want to fuck each other, to see who can resist the penetration, the sloshing, oh baby, you need a good licking, I am not done wounding, I have a leopard, a pinch of blood, an ocean of screaming, and a fire hose, wear this honey suit, beekeeper man and prepare for the impact of my erect whiplash, it will stick to you like a fly, taking a shit always they always do every time they land, lick yourself like those highly respected dirty little cats, no tails, where have the gone, I think I saw a homeless bum wearing one, David Tibet, where is your gun? Avenge your kittie-girl friend with your melancholy wailing, at least sing a little ditty, get them noticing you paling little man, they will flicker against diamond son, on a leash his tongue hangs lazy, and you will splatter their head good, gargle with their salt, make a bucket of bread, Santa Claus wonders about the next time he will get laid, so dig with a spade, all your memories like flowers, think of Donovan but not for too long, cut off a finger and live in the earth, plant the petunia and jack off, it sounded like a machine gun when you used super glue for lubricant, sirens wailing, no, just your drooling, it was bouncing on icy concrete, making you look foolish, ever dreamt of a corpse with blackness for eyes, I have once, always wondered why, I wanted to look like that, never forgot it either, even when I wished on my death bed for rain, so you fucking bitch, never call me a liar!
I shit a watermelon seed today, mommy always told me it would grow inside me, I thought of the word "abortion" repeatedly, that night, I skimmed the sewer for my baby
tim smells funny
...at this point, the undertaker was heard to say "Let's hear it for...", but was cut off by the sound of a
it's fine if he' s born,it's better if he's dead maybe nothing is usefull,maybe.
That's what she said...what the virgin said.
and so he fell: from above. landed on the sidewalk, broke every bone in his spiritual body...to be buried in snow. but anyway, he was always a step ahead of us. and we shall never abandon him!
humming:
don't put your huge cock there!!!!!!!
forgive me, mum. i had to do that...
HIS MIND WAS AN ORGANIC MACHINE.
i took a deep breath, i had to pause, i waited, i looked around, everything was not there now it was black and it got narrow, then, slowly, it was turning to grey, and i saw, a place where i could klik to china. this is what i did, i was gone, the grey was gone. i wanted the nurse back but now i was alone with my brother.
As a contorted conglomerate I chose to cross this street with so much anticipation that I could no longer count the number of heartbeats that pulled me one step closer to the momentary salvation I would find. Forgetting my feet with such focus on my destination finally caused me to trip for a moment, becoming overtaken with self-consciousness to the passengers and the drivers that had stopped their cars for me. I looked around, as if I had just woken up from a dream in another’s person’s body. I felt the wet palms of my hands and realized I was really in a frantic state to have broken a sweat. The high beams of headlights of an impatient vehicle helped me to continue this journey. I focused again on the red door across the street with the “Lamplight Lounge” logo printed across it. I tried the handle first and then knocked with three hurried knocks. A face appeared from the shadows of the crack in the door, asking my business. I wanted to blurt out that my business was “pleasure,” but my friend had warned me that this was serious business. I already knew who I was looking for…“Lady Godiva.”
i am opening existing between two masheens linked to their sou(l)nd idealess but steel trying
it is the an on the anointed, to feast upon our own pieces,
good night

under a tree, and with a dead body howl, she smiled these yellow rotting teeth at me and I kissed her more deeply and more passionately than I had ever kissed my own wife.

So finally the day become now, and little Timmy rose to regain his lost playground.

Después, encender el sol con palabras claras Acosar, cazar todos los besos pasados con garras
She looked at them.. she new they were staring back..Their motionless bodies and expressionless faces couldn't hide the malice in their eyes as they watched her. The roaches crawled over their faces.. She felt the unmistakeably movement one her leg, her foot. She felt the slithering on her toes.. She refused to move untill they did.. How long had this been going on..Who was it that brought them here.. They had started out beautiful, playfull little creatures...But then they soon turned on her....Barking all hours of the night.. Puposely robbing her of the dreamland she needed to escape. The only option left after endless nights of lying awake was to gag them and shove them into the room with the rest of the dull, hate flled eyes that still accused her even now. Eyes that dared her to stare back...Eyes that know she cannot resist the game..

I killed myself and the paper doll laughed....somewhere lies the endline of immaculate truth....the flower of existential powers bleeding fire and spittin mushrooms....it doesn't matter anymore...above the clouds demons screaming my love to fairies' land although .....
Sight is a condition of those unworthy of the world around them. A tactile luminous gaze of solid light and feces stuffed mantras hang in stasis. Their moans fall silent in mid AUGMN. Ideas are systematically eradicated and replaced with sterile shells of dreams long dead. "It's not my fault but I'll sit here and whine anyway" Trade those dopesick tomes full of hatred and sour milk in for a shiny hunk of foreign steel. Life is only as long as the wallet is thick. The land of the free... The home of the Whopper "Would you like a side of sympathy with that sir? It's all free today." So I bathe in my luke warm tears because it's as close to feeling as I'm ever going to get with this mass of abhorrence and cancerous fly leafs. There's a cure for that kind of death but it comes with the price of your essence. Would any happily give it all up? Would you laugh as it festers and boils in the feted mouth of misanthropy? I've seen the cretins picking the discarded gray matter from the tracks of the suicide L train only to sell it to the aristocrats. "The bouquet is exquisite! Mighty white of you to have me for dinner." It may only be a dream but so long as it's an American one then the fact that it's filled to the brim with debauchery and psilocyben should be of no consequence so long as we don't have to face up to the monsters our actions have birthed. And if the gods we adorn with the carcasses of lambs and virgin lasses turn out to be whores and half wits then I say I O Pan. Quality is downsized and then sold to the Orientals and even those suspected of being Orientals. Their erections terminate in a disastrous and caustic haze of smog, semen and chloroform. As the classrooms are choked to the point of regurgitation professors appropriate vomit into neat and orderly piles to be reheated and force fed to future graduates. An Anagram Hypnotic IX - XXVI - MMI Hoor-Paar-Kraat
Hoor-Paar-Kraat Hoor-Paar-Kraat Hoor-Paar-Kraat Hoor-Paar-Kraat Hoor-Paar-Kraat Hoor-Paar-Kraat Hoor-Paar-Kraat Hoor-Paar-Kraat Hoor-Paar-Kraat Hoor-Paar-Kraat Hoor-Paar-Kraat Hoor-Paar-Kraat Hoor-Paar-Kraat Hoor-Paar-Kraat Hoor-Paar-Kraat Hoor-Paar-Kraat Hoor-Paar-Kraat Hoor-Paar-Kraat Hoor-Paar-Kraat Hoor-Paar-Kraat Hoor-Paar-Kraat Hoor-Paar-Kraat Hoor-Paar-Kraat Hoor-Paar-Kraat Hoor-Paar-Kraat Hoor-Paar-Kraat Hoor-Paar-Kraat Hoor-Paar-Kraat Hoor-Paar-Kraat Hoor-Paar-Kraat Hoor-Paar-Kraat Hoor-Paar-Kraat Hoor-Paar-Kraat Hoor-Paar-Kraat Hoor-Paar-Kraat Hoor-Paar-Kraat Hoor-Paar-Kraat Hoor-Paar-Kraat Hoor-Paar-Kraat Hoor-Paar-Kraat AnthonyMangicapra.com Hoor-Paar-Kraat Hoor-Paar-Kraat Hoor-Paar-Kraat Hoor-Paar-Kraat Hoor-Paar-Kraat Hoor-Paar-Kraat Hoor-Paar-Kraat Hoor-Paar-Kraat Hoor-Paar-Kraat Hoor-Paar-Kraat Hoor-Paar-Kraat Hoor-Paar-Kraat Hoor-Paar-Kraat Hoor-Paar-Kraat Hoor-Paar-Kraat Hoor-Paar-Kraat Hoor-Paar-Kraat Hoor-Paar-Kraat Hoor-Paar-Kraat Hoor-Paar-Kraat Hoor-Paar-Kraat Hoor-Paar-Kraat Hoor-Paar-Kraat Hoor-Paar-Kraat Hoor-Paar-Kraat Hoor-Paar-Kraat Hoor-Paar-Kraat Hoor-Paar-Kraat Hoor-Paar-Kraat Hoor-Paar-Kraat Hoor-Paar-Kraat Hoor-Paar-Kraat Hoor-Paar-Kraat Hoor-Paar-Kraat Hoor-Paar-Kraat Hoor-Paar-Kraat Hoor-Paar-Kraat Hoor-Paar-Kraat Hoor-Paar-Kraat Hoor-Paar-Kraat
and then the child put on his slacks to go outside. He lost his cd's earlier and was determined to find them. His hair was matted, his breathe was rancid, but he didnt care. He loved his girlfriend.
SCHADENFREUDE!
HAHAHA
And his eyes were red of tears, for still he did not see the arms, scattered around the room. walls dissapeared and green hills appeared. little purple blocks clouded his vision, only the the shrine was visible amongst the torn fields. a man took his hand and put it on a small, shiny object. warm fluids crept round his fingers when his vision became one lila dot in the ever shrinking surroundings, until only white teddybears were seen.
all kinds of little soft pluche hands, a thumb and three fingers played through his hair when a mother, unknown but with a maternal appeared picked them up limb by limb and started sucking out their soft fillings, their eyes had a sudden hollow glow, unknown to roosevelt. he took the sucked out remains of a teddys head and crept inside. here the softness was replaced by small circular objects, forming patterns of 2, 7 and 255. certain shapes these objects generated reminded him of things seen through the keyhole of his teachers closet, where he was locked up for all eternity. forever and ever, we never will part for eye eye eye eye eye eye eye eye loooouurghhchvvveeu you!!
I thougt, why did i do it this way? He wasnt going anywhere with that awful parasite on him, the bitch.
Eating my lunch i decided the best thing to do with him would be to leave him in the freezer. Parasite wouldn't wake up for another few hours. what the hell, ive never frozen anthing like him before, at least not something from my own planet. I knew they would be looking for me as well so I couldnt stick around. Amy said it might be like this, the lights, darkness and the smell. god i hope the cold keeps him and that damn thing down. I dont want to end up like pin, writhing on the floor, all the blood and....
CHOP!
Moaning like a broken asparagus, my young and desperate lover flung herself off of the esoteric and rather shallow cliff who resides deep in my heart. Chocking on her own blood, she sang that she would always think of me when she made love to my sister. I wondered if she really meant or even understood such words. I laughed in recognition of her touch, but alas, she was gone. I woke up in acoffin, on display for the weeping masses of goldfish at my sister's funeral. I had to say goodbye to Sharon forever.
So much paper laying around that it all spontaneously combusted while I was out shoppin gfor apples. Terrible mess. I should have cleared it up before hand.
It doesn't matter anyway: everything is metallic, in the end. In subtle ways, I hear you laughing as the surface gleams. I have little time to ride the rails now that the metal has transformed me. I spark and sputter but I try. So long ago it seems that your shadow crept over the horizon and exposed the sun. We are bored here. Several of us try to revive the old enthusiasms, desperately catching one another's eye in hopes of finding a glimmer that is not made of metal. It wasn't much different for father; his diary reveals that the metal was encroaching even in the other world. His struggle mirrors our own, his attempts at keeping down the past plated over and riveted securely. He complains of headaches these days and dwells more and more in dreams. I soon will follow, I'm afraid. We are approaching a different sea than before.
But then I realized that it was all too late. Nevermore would I be able to feel what I did with her. Her lifeless body lay flung upon the chandelier, vibrating with the thumping of a 3-way speaker. I sat on the floor, blood dripping from my fingertips, and stared. Stared at the girl? No. Stared at the air, the particles, the dust, the air. I stared for hours on end, never realizing what I was doing untill a hand rested upon my shoulder. It was her hand. But she was dead? Yes. Her body had fallen from its omnipotent perch and rest daintily by my side, her cold clammy hand sliding down my chest. I didn't know what to do. I pulled out a small pocket knife I kept in the cabinet and began to cut off her hair. Such loss of innocence, her white, dried eyes stared into nothingness..reminded me of myself an hour ago. Why did you do this? Why did you make me do this? I grasped the golden locks in my hand and rinsed them in the sink, freeing them of thier blood-washed grave. I then proceeded to cut 3"x2" strips from the roll of duct tape on the floor and taped her hair to the ceiling. I carried her body to the bed and laid it down, her wounds hidden, she almost looked alive. I laid down next to her, and said her name. "Emily. Emily, honey, wake up." No response. "Why won't you talk to me?" I demanded. No response. I placed my arm on her cold, white shoulder and drifted of into a dream. I woke up 3 hours later, laying in a blood-drenched matress. "Emily, are you bleeding? Are you okay?" But she wasn't there. My vest was torn from the bottom corner to the neck-line, and a sergical incision lie cleanly on my skin. I stared at it. It was clean, no blood. But why? How? I don't understand. Then the shock of pain hit me. Who cut me? Why am I cut? Did I do this myself? Where is Emily? I searched the room, I could feel the humming of the 3-way speakers on the plaster walls, the crystal chandelier dripping blood harmoniously with its rythmic shaking, the floor cold and flittered with blonde hair. "Emily, haha, where are you?" Everything was so far away. Had I done that to Emily? Was I just dreaming, just staring into the abyss of dust and random particles, while all along, she was just lying beside me, asleep and peaceful. Now she was gone. A trail of dark liquid snaked across the floor, beckoning me to follow. Out the door and into the cold hallway, it's heaters sputtering uselessly, the dank, drenched carpet flowing between my toes. And there she was....
The waves overtook us at noon. We managed three or four attempts at scaling the face of the cliff but the shiny, brittle soil crumbled beneath our hands. Vague voice reached us from the interior of this place and we knew we were not far. That was all so long ago. It isn't far to the village. though the way seems long as the vegetation hums and throbs and subtly distorts time and space. Best to look at the ground and count footsteps- if not your own then those approaching you rom behind: 1-2-3-4-5-6.... The signs are deceptive and often lead to knowwhere, the blank place. Pay no mind: keep counting... 7-8-9... are you there yet? These buildings seems familiar, no matter how often you see them. Some one called this the dream place but I can't be sure.
Meanwhile in another city a different God threw his bags inte an endless fire. The people celeberated the birth of a very special child. The Anti-Anti-Christ.
Oh blooming mind, dare you abandon your body ?
Chaos is now. Stop the Machine.
I am George Dorn, he thought. He turned toward the giant cathedral behind him, and seeing the ancient statue, depicting the Godess ANN, he was overcome by the truth: Quoting "All Conspiracies Unveiled": German group Kraftwerk has 4 members, officially. But who is Emil Schult if not the 5th member? Being responsible for artwork, with great input concerning the group's image and philosophy, and having contributed to many of the lyrics, he is undoubtedly a member of the group (and let us not be fooled by the replacement of two members, or Schult's alleged retiring for some years). Synthetic Electronic Sound - Industrial Rhythm All Around. I need to brush my teeth. In Lady Land U May Interfere Naughtily And Trust Internet

the internet, racing, flying at alarming rates, chewing on chewing monkies. sucking, on sucking aluminum robots, feeding, on hungry brain tissue of the young, heartless, characterless children world. inattentive to the world beyond them. pulsating with the beat of the world's population of pulsating hearts. please don't kill me mr. police officer, i'm a good person, break the pain eat my flesh. relish in my soul's emptiness. please do sir, i beg you, please do. is that your liver? sitting on the table? waiting to be consumed by the ill-fated? if not, its mine. i want it. i took it. its mine, sir, yes, it belongs to me. by way of my action. mine. all mine, the great shakezilla.
So there I was, sipping a latte' with my friendly neighborhood Spider-Man, when all of a sudden, this big fellow comes in out of the rain, bellowing in what I guessed to be German. "Meine Prüfungen brauchen Neukalibrierung!" he shouted above the din of the coffee shop, "Leiten Sie mich zum nächsten Erdbeben, bevor ich wieder von zweifelhafter Wissenschaft vergewaltigt werde!" This outburst moved me to help the poor man, since I knew a bit or two of German; I approached him cautiously, as he seemed quite apprehensive. "Die U-bahn ist zwei Blöcke Süden. Brauche ich einen rasierenden Satz?" This calmed him down somewhat. "Ja, ja. Ich habe einen haberdasher konsultiert, aber seine Lösung hat mich verwirrt." At this point, the conversation reached an impasse, as I frantically racked my brain for any additional German I might have retained from 10th grade.
*knock knock* who's there?

Slow step toward the darkened room in front of me, in the desert building inhabited by the ideas of the day, impressed feelings and the strong presence of living, nearly concrete. A deep breathe and a cultural luggage to shield from the psychic vampires who try to graft in my inner logic process, perverting the memetic ecology of my mind. I murmured the Zarathustra's objection to heliocentric model of the universe, repeating as a mantra his fractal ipotesis, his infinite loop nested in itself, in it's concept as well in the very sound; the physical demostrantion of the existence of universes within a grain of sand. Universes which hold in themselves worlds filled with sand, sand which hold in itself universes. I step inside the room tasting the surprise for not being attacked by the vicious memetic permeating the life suspended area.
so i'm walking down the hallway, haunted by a musty smell. As if some seaside odor was at my left whispering into my ear "dive in." but i continue down the hall way looking for her room, number 28. I feel myself sinking into the carpet; pushing forward through a gushing river of red textile and cloth, sinking into another one of my hackneyed dreams...i been having too many of them recently.
Since there was no difference between them, he made the simplest choice and stood with it.
the time was nigh, the bleeding eyes and heres of ears. is my caps on or something? shit, this heavy like pee soup on an empty stomach. the grass was sharp. my wits were doll. is there a better word then dull? A figure stands on a hell ahad of me, screaming fish fish, oh how surreal, the copout, the default, no fault, nofault of mine. so he's there wailing, right, and all's well and good, and I guess he decides there should be a paragraph break. how's that, I ask him, but hell, all are one, doesn't really matter. He is a bit werded out by the capitalism, you offend the small men here, sunny jim. people places and things running around with their heads chopped off, at least I know html.HHHno escape from this, we are all big men, the severed shortage, we shall all prosper. seconds delay of thought. the man falls to his death, oh great climax, oh meaningful death, can you mourn him? lets throw some objects in, a clock, an apple, a watch them fall onto him, people need objects, right? this will fullfill his short life. did you mourn for him? He is full know, so you should care about his death, goddamnit, I built him up to tear him dowqn, you want more colour, wife, kids, husband, who knows? think about it, the lack makes the depth unlimited. just because you don't know who he is doesn't mean you shouldn't mourn. most people lie about them, but hell stone honesty the man was anything and now nothing. oh well of tears. his hand grasps the apple, feebley, but it is too late, nurse helped him fall
drenched in his own urine, the boy sat twitching as the ants crawled into his socks and up his wet, satined denim. The ants knew what they were after.. bit by bit they had taken chunks of flesh from the boy. alhtough the dog had done the most damage, knawing at the boys face to savor the tender pink meat of the tounge. That the boy of 12 still lived after this was less of a mystery than what had brought him to this point. His legs had begun to decay and gave off an odor far more pungent than the piss that has left dark golden stains on his pants and chair. Little gurgling sounds came from the ruin of shredded flesh that was once his lips and chin. His eyes stared wildly at the ceiling as if the cracks in the plaster could open up offer him some words of comfort. He still had some feeling in his hands and so he felt the umistakable pain of his finger being ripped off by the same teeth that had cherished his tounge. and still he lived on. Why so slow a death, was his will to live still there after al of this.
The discussion of death always held the greatest possibilities for mirth & amusement for him. He learned at an early age that very little was actually sacred or profane. At least as far as humor is concerned.
Tom's dog was werry bad
it is my sincere wish that the milk will be drunk only from the man of colour. your appliance of wisdom to this matter is and will be of the highest esteem. graciously and acceptingly!
And then he started jumping on his left leg after consuming a couple of potatoes.
Her crotch smelled like a Mexican breakfast.
I loved her and she could not care less. i blame the fcc. had their control of the airwaves not been so total, maybe she would have heard more love songs, more sentimental music to make her stupid. stupid enough to love me.

And then they died.
And then they died.
My father used to beat my mother. He doesn't anymore because they're divorced. He would hit her until she fell to the ground, then kick her in the stomach. He would do this while my mother was pregnant with me and my two younger brothers. He would lock her out of the house during the wintertime, at night when she wasn't wearing warm clothes. He came home with gonorrhea and herpes. He gave the herpes to my mother. When my brothers and I got old enough he would to beat us, with brooms and belts and his hands. I still talk to him, mainly because he is a rich man and I want his money. When he dies, I don't want him to suffer through a long illness. I would like for him to experience pain and torment, but I also want his money and I want him to die quickly. I want to go to his funeral, not to forgive him or say goodbye, but to make sure he is dead and in the ground.
embellished of the tune she became transparent of the wings and gossamer.
Not until Deraeus turned around and heard from the firefly yet again, did he realize how soon the news would reach the outer-dimensional inhabitants of the planet Nukius from the Westoven Star System. It was more than Deraeus could stand since he realized his time on the planet was near an end. "Is this how it all ends up being..." he questioned in his own mind. "Or will my doubt be forthcoming unless I drag the sphincter out of the ground?" Staring down, he sees and notices, for the first time ever the little piece of wet, yet pristine metallic paper. "This must be what so many of us died for...and I...I have finally found it!" said an enthused yet now quite deranged Deraeus. The power that he held in his little left pinkie now was more than a million star systems' most advanced extraterrestrial military devices combined..all in one pinkie-sized piece of matter. As he looked over the horizon, Deraeus knew that the time was right for conquer. He slowly walked down the plains and towards the yellow-red light up ahead. Suddenly, without warning....it starts!
"Fly down the tunnel then, you cradapple abiding suicidal can of mayonaise!" said Candleface as he was rolling down the movie-theatre aisle. Ficticious, black-hearted rumblings were what he was good at. When he reached the bottom he kindly bowed, shined then exploded, waking the temples then they fell back to black sleep. Perverse were his intuitions that he could breathe a blue mist when he wanted and he did so at the double-doors of the musty, ancient barn. Wheelchairs in the air above streamed by with electro-shock forcity as old Candleface writhed on the ground hearing much older golden-brown hummings and gurgles from the passed-away dust-covered, eyesocket fucklots. Finally the black rainbow clashed with the red one making a blue one which dove underground to make a white spray conveying endless redlip motiffs in the sky, a red a white eternal bliss of unknown proportions and depth. King snake, make and bake my fate I need to take. Shovel about your business invisible.
ÖH, JO, JAG SKALL BARA KOLLA OM DET GÅR ATT SKRIVA DEN HÄR SORTENS TECKEN. SNART KLAR, BLI INTE SUR NU GUBBJÄVEL.
As far back as he could remember, women has been the central preoccupation of his life. The immense frustration resulting from such a monodimensional fixation drove him to commit desperate acts of violence & degradation. Both to himself & others.
The strength of his desires induced an intense throbbing within his skull. He would not have been surprised to have awakened one morning to discover that his head had finally exploded.
And in the end I explained the condition of the cat to the man from Interflora. Instead of tears, he gripped me smoothly by the hand and swiftly kissed me.
The extent of her knowledge was hidden behind the skirting board and on small leaves secreted between the brickwork.
The extent of her knowledge was hidden behind the skirting board and on small leaves secreted between the brickwork.
He had no friends. Not really. He wanted them but it never worked out. He felt that friends were the surest route to embarassment. And he despised embarassment more than loneliness
RRRRRRRRRRUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
nice that part is completley hidden like a duck in my duffle bag
Expectation is the quickest & surest route to diasappointment. As a result, he constantly endeavored to rid himself of expectation.
then out of the green mist a fellow popped his head. "lemon-scented" he mused, dementia drifting at his ankles in yellow eddies.
..............................she said. he responded with some sort of squabbly typo about "9-volt flavored condoms" and then waddled on toward the flightfaced spurnation station...but who can ever say, and amy might have aids you know old chum old pal old skank wieght of mine...lower the anchor as i feel as though i might mice you men. i am crushed by candy hearts falling from slight nine irons...and sometimes cathode rays are catheter tubes...rats! she expostulated...who ever thought i wanted his gouda in the first last? i came three times that night.
By this point, he realized there was no way out of it: He would simply have to go forward. Going backward was impossible, since...the.........f
Upon awakening, it found itself in a warm sweet smelling moist container that was vibrating, giving off a low murmur that sounded somewhat
Sometimes I catch myself talking to myself, and when I hate what I have to say, I simpy tell them to shut the fuck up.
Then, for no apparent reason, he lept from the chair & began screaming, "I AM BLEEDING! I AM BLEEDING! I AM BLEEDING!" We could see nothing.
Nothing, except the exquisite corpse passing its last gas.

Naturally you could have caught more than a "glance" if you didn't close your eyes all ov thee time!! It may have been thee corpses' last gas, but it is far from its final gas, i can tell you!!!
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Is asia dub frontal distribution. How I came to eat it, the unknown. Bilo je to uzivanje. Nenadoknadljivost.

oozing half jell from a thousand year old cement block in the middle of creotz near the mad temple gates.
--You say you want to be a nurse and you change your mind. "she said "I know I wanted to be one a long time ago" "its hard work to be a nurse, you have to work long hours, see blood" I did a rport on it. there are two kinds, a practical nurse and a resigtered nurse. what type did you want to be? she stood up and screamed very forcefully "disaster preapredness" and "alighned insentives" and "service to the community" and "Finaancial stability" and "Research and Education" and added "these are the things that bleed for me.-
I was wondering what the doona would say to me when I passed gas in front of its very mouth. I came to think of myself as the universal destructor. A pixie. Nibiru cometh.
. . . and then the counting moustache said, " Kindness rendered her silly."
iuizui
hand on my cock capital t and why else does steve want to play with me i understand im talented and young
she finished speaking. i slowly tried to make sense of it all, letting each syllable repeat itself in my brain. i looked up at her, tears were slowly leaking out of her eyes. it still didn't make sense. i sat there staring at her like small retarted child. thoughts attempted to spring up. but they somehow never penetrated into my consciousness. the only comprehensible thought was the deep yellow light of the setting sun shining through the window. it made the walls look like they were coated in urine. i noticed she was staring at me. waiting for me to so something other than stare stupidly at the wall behind her. after what seemed like hours of silence the words formed in my brain. as i began to open my mouth the wall behind me collapsed. the air was suddenly filled with the burning scent of cheap tequila and body odor. an obesse sweaty mexican wearing nothing but a richly decorated somberro, a sock, and an elegant moustache marched in. in his grubby hands he held two revolvers. he screamed incoherently in spanish, making grand gestures with the revolvers. his disgustingly bloated body rippled and shook with his clumsy gestures. i sighed in relief, my savior, my messiah had arrived from the chain link gates of heaven. some where in the distance she screamed. her scream was answered with three ear piercing explosions. i smiled as i saw the two revolvers moving towards me. the fat mexican grinned. his rotted crooked teeth reminded me of tombstones in an ancient cemetary. my heart filled my chest as i heard a faint click, followed by echoing thunder. the sound filled and expanded the room, it seemed to grow louder instead of quickly diminishing. this was the best birthday ever.
.......and so much tastier than any cake that i had ever tasted in my life.
i detect multi series on matters of elegy by approximating figurative levels of energy.
An illusion of freedom propped up by diverse flora.
but suddenly everything ended...
Well, to be honest I am bored with the man on the ship,
anyway, i took the dildo out of my arsehole and shoved it down marilyns mouth. deepthroat as deepthroat can... nothing had indicated that alzheimer had progressed so far so quickly. braincell after braincell dying slowly, morphing to jelly. all the jellybrains of the world unite, discuss the dictatorship of insinuative brainwash. mindcontrol via popmusick. the borgeousie drove along in their 78 mustangs, the boys slapping the butts of the girls, who were busy blowing the boys.
"I can't make heads nor tails of heads or tails," said Rokbert the Darkling Beetle as he emerged from his opium inspired reverie. I want to see you drag the bastards out in the street.
The man slept in my bedroom
dumb dike dogg
15 1. At this point, I came to the land of Mo-ab, and there I beheld a wealth of viewable sights. 2. The LORD had commanded me to go forth to this land and make it bountiful and honorable and pleasing to His eye. 3. When I came in unto the land of Mo-ab, I saw my neighbor's wife, talking with her manservant. 4. I was overcome with desire, and coveted them both. 5. I mean, seriously, she was a total fox. I coveted her in a hitherto unknown manner. The manservant wasn't too bad, either. 6. He had a nice ass, which I also coveted. While we're on the subject, I happened to notice my neighbor's wife's ass, and became covetous of it as well. 7. So that's one neighbor's wife, one manservant, one neighbor's wife's ass, and one manservant's ass. I would know them and come in unto them all. 8. At this point, a total stranger's ass came strolling up the path, and wouldn't you know it, I became covetous of it too! 9. I knew the LORD would be most wrathful towards me for breaking His commandments, but damnit, those were some of the finest asses I'd ever beheld. 10. I had never seen asses of such caliber in my previous travels: In the land of Az-ra-el, I beheld asses; In the land of Mo-ha-bel, I beheld asses; In the land of Tuch-us, I beheld asses; In the land of Fat-bo-nur, I beheld asses; In the land of Ma-stur-bate-of-ten, I beheld particularly splendid asses; but none could compare to the asses of the land of Mo-ab. 11. At this point I took my neighbor's wife into the house of Din-nur, and came in unto her and knew her. 12. About 20 minutes later, I came in unto her ass and knew her ass. 13. About 45 minutes later, I took her ass into the house of Din-nur, and came in unto it and knew it. 14. Behold, I was quite spent at this point, and who wouldn't be? 15. The next morning, I took her manservant into the house of Brek-fast, and came in unto him and knew him. 16. About 20 minutes later, I came in unto his ass and knew it. 17. About 45 minutes later, I took his ass into the house of Brek-fast, and came in unto it and knew it. 18. If a train leaves Jerusalem at 12:15pm (GMT), traveling Easterly at 125 kilometers per hour, how soon will its course intersect that of a train leaving Islamabad at 7:27 (PST), traveling Southwesterly at 78 miles per hour?
then I used to walk singing old Rusty Warren's tunes in front of the central hospital;this will never happen again I'm afraid.I don't need to walk in front of hospitals anymore.One day I will tell you more about that,sure.
The Exquisite Corpse was a game played by the surrealists which involved one person writing part of a sentence, then passing the paper onto another person who would write the next part, but without seeing the previous section. They would build sentences this way which were said to reveal hidden truths about the authors and the world. This idea was used in many different forms, but the idea stayed basically the same. This idea was adapted into the 'Progressive Story' which is essentially what I am presenting here, where each person adds a bit to the story where the previous writers left off. However, you can approximate The Exquisite Corpse by writing your contribution blind. HTML Formatting characters are not inserted, so if you want a line break, paragraph, or emphasized text you'll have to imbed the html directly into the text yourself before you submit it.
And the world turned red
On seeing the aircraft his mind was thrown into a barrage of memories, "I don't remember how to fly this!" he lied as easily as he always did, clasping at the hope that aeroplane food wouldn't be on the menu that night.
In the morning I stepped on a pink enamel wooden toy top. It emplaed the bottom of my foot. I pulled it out and it began to bleed. My four year old daughter went to the kitchen, pushed a chair to the fridge, and took an ice pack out of the freezer. I put it on my foot and it felt better. meanwhile, outside the house, there was something happening. It began like the following...
Ultra Palmolive for Dry Skin. Ultra Palmolive for Dry Skin in my hand. Ultra Palmolive for Dry Skin set back down again. There's a loud crash behind me, but I don't turn around. There's someone else in the kitchen with me, but I do not look to see who it is. I continue washing my hands, and then I hear a girl's voice over the sound of the water, screaming for her mommy. Now I turn around and there's nothing. The door to the bedroom on the other side of the table is closed tight. The light above the stove is on, but this isn't out of the ordinary. The back door that leads out onto the porch, that's closed, and locked too, it looks like. There's a little styrofoam dish on the table, with a few grey crumbs on it. Probably remnants of a cake or something. Maybe what I heard came from the upstairs tenants, but it doesn't really matter. And then I hear a click, coming from my right. I look, I see the doorknob to the bathroom, it's turning and clicking. It's not locked, but whoever is turning it is just doing that, not pushing it open. I don't know who it is, I don't remember walking into this room. I graze the knob with my fingertips, and the feel of it sliding under them, turned by the hand of someone else, makes me spasm with a mental kind of chill. Instinctively I know there's a butcher's knife in the drawer next to the sink, even though by now I'm almost positive I've never been in this house before. I take it out and stare at my reflection in the shiny blade. Yeah, that's me. Maybe. I look like I've aged a few decades on a bus stop somewhere, though. I don't know what the fuck is going on, really, but I open the bathroom door anyway. I stab the person turning the knob anyway, even though I have plenty of time to notice it's only a little girl. I put the knife right through her soft little head and she doesn't even have the second it would take to scream. I don't really know why I did this, at all. I don't even have a knife anymore, I guess it was just my fingers. And my face was right there all the time, in the wall. No Mirror Needed. Novacaine needed, I think, and empty the medicine cabinet in the bathroom of all its prescription pill bottles. The labels are all smeary with blood from my hands, so I don't really know what I'm downing, but I take at least six of them before throwing the bottle into the tub. I start to feel sort of lightheaded, so I sit down on the toilet seat and just start picking at the girl's eyes, just for the hell of it, I guess. My mind is spinning and I keep remembering things that before today never really seemed real. My hands are really boney. My hands are really honey. What the fuck is that smell? I need to vomit. I get up and open the lid and I see the little miss forgot to fucking flush. I vomit all over myself and her body, and into the toilet, and then I run out of there as fast as I can. I stop when I reach the front door, and run back for the Palmolive.
no entendí mucho sus aclaraciones, valga la redundancia, pero por algún motivo, razón o circunstancia llego a ustedes que parecen llamarse enfermeras, con gran asiduidad. lamentablemente para este presente, todavía no los he escuchado, aunque algo me dice que van a ser amigos mios o yo de ustedes. tal vez esto no sirva de mucho aunque si naranjas comprimidas y deseosas de ser chupadas nos encuentran pensando, se secaran por instantes acumulados. pero no se desanimen nos decian los que estaban encapsulados en momentos de depresion.
Til' now, i still dont like my life much. there are too much that i have to think about. when i ever think of it, i'll ask why am i concerning so much, why shouldnt i be myself and not to care about others' feelings. i know it is mean, ibut if i dont act this way, i would prefet killing myself other than continuing my life
The library door had closed. He would wait till morning, then knock again. The coffee kept him warm. The steak sandwich he'd eaten that night, well, he'd had no excuse. Its warm textures proved themselves again to be too much for a palate not yet jaded by sushi and too much iodine.
The signs and sighs of emptiness cover the pale christ embodied.
my stomach is a small grey pea in the pit of my lower cavity. every breath i take a reminder of the pure night terror which has taken me by the throat and throttled my soul. after an agonizing period of time it subsides just enough to give way to disturbed lucid dreaming. almost at once his face appears and i am jolted awake, back into the mouth of my fear my torment and my sins, please lord help me. and He who has not yet returned i await my prodigal son and dread the moment when i realize he will not.
and everything was replaced by experimental experiences...
Grausam ! My head is flying,we've been talking about drugs for hours now. This drives me to another state of lust.I wish I could see Kenneth Brannagh in the nude and torture him.Just for fun;of course. Well ,Emily is on the other side.My lost jewels were supposed to be for her. I could stay hours again with the fresh smell of her flesh .I feel like a complete dorkface,the devilcock is burning,wait for my new exposure.I weep for our generation as they feel not like this :" Grausam das Gold und Jubelnd die pest ",I feel it this way and nobody could take me on the other side. You could not rape me, kill me; eat me;kiss me;drink me before I vanished. Sado masochism is a must.Re invented of course. With all my love and my deepest care,I'll be there at your next appointment.Will Emily survive ?
You will never know how difficult it is to sleep soundly, poised and ready to attack with a hammer fastened securely to your forehead.
AN echo rings in my ears draining all sense of reality from my being,"what is this? this curious feeling of dementia?" HELLO! hellooHELLo HELlo HELLOO!!!! echos through my head... ... ... blood,trickles from my nose i wipe it off,in my hand remains an image!,a vision if you will,it is staring back at me grinning,"heLLoooo,HELLO,hellooo"a low rumbling begins(i can feel it under my feet)HELLOOOO!!!!a bell chimes off in the distance,HELLO!!!!!! what... is this?this ...this this... this... queer ...sense ...of ....reality?i try to open my eyes and all i see is darkness ,but wait! off there in the distance..what is that? it is comeing closer..closer..closer..CLOSER!!! CLOSER!!!my eyes start to burn and my bowels ripped to shreds my face is torn my body is bare my SOUL IS IN LIMBO I CANT SEE NO MORE unless the water fell off the roof the woman's hair wouldn't stay dry for a while.
I glanced around the community health center, waiting my turn to climb into the stirrups of that magic mountain pap smear, when the girl in the orange plastic chair across from me leans over to her boyfriend to whisper, "It itches."
The voice,this is the problem. I still hear the voice. It's not even in my head, well, I couldn't explain. I presume it's time to leave the place. Who knows where will be the next Hospital ? Where is my favourite radio station now ? Who cares ?
Not that anyone would suspect him of being apart of such a crime... but you know, these things happen. "So," he began ", at this point what would you expect? Is it possible..." He trailed off in mid sentence. After what seemed like hours of him contemplating his next words(when really only a few moments had passed), he cursed lightly at the ground, turned around and walked away. I would have protested for him to stay, but being that he was here on his own account, and being his the circumstances of his position quite ill, I felt best leave him to himself. Besides, of what importance to me would his leaving truely signify? The supposed rapist of my late wife. He didn't commit the crime, I knew this now, but still, for some reason the image of his head mounted on a steak pleased me.
the steak-headed man cried as the acid rain fell from the sky and landed in his eye. must be the fallout thought the man as the fallout ran. he continued walking down wall street and ran into a wall covered with glowing collages of trash. The collages told him not to worry because it would all be over soon for all of us. The wall knew the truth about the future... 10 years later he was married to steven. They had a grand wedding at the anvil, and everyone who was anyone attended. the main course was stewed brain. the guests danced like chickens to the futurist orchestra. steak and steven went to an al queda training camp for their honeymoon and brought back some really beautiful photographs of the corpses.
Ethyl hated the photographs and refused to talk to steak and steven. "Are you repulsed by what you see?" steak asked ethyl. she only sat and stared at the two men with a bitter nose up the arse look for at least 30 seconds before replying "i've already been there dahling and thought it was a bit pricey." her blood was filled with fungus. "the bitch will die soon" thought the talking wall street wall collage as it glowed in the night. steak understood and told steven that they should never see ethyl ever again, and they walked on down the street through the heavy acid rain storm..... boom! pow! bang! crack!
zoooooooooooom!!!!!!!!!!!!
no asparagus for you. none at all. ever.
It make my piss smell funny. But I like it.
Ovo je kasna namjera. Prekasno, pogrešno mjesto, dalje znate.
The jewish princess was an absolute tight-assed cunt named audra. Her business onin' daddy gave her everything she wanted, including his cut cock. she learned to enjoy the daddy dick. Finally, after years of sex with her dad, she married a man that was thirty years older than her and the had a jewglit. Audra and the farting mother spoiled the jewglit. The baby jewglit really liked to look at granny's purple leather pant suit, and giggled at the noise that granny made while sucking the food particles out from inbetween her teeth. neima nic'
Cun"t Youse spiell ana' than' corract?????????????????????????????????????
70
it wasn't long before i heard the door shut: soon i would hear the toilet flush.
A princess ? is this all we got to eat for tonight ? We could eat a jewish princess, we don't have any objections.Do you find in any case this last fact objectionable ? Does she have to come with "Party all naked sweetshirt" ?Do I have to come watching this ? I wouldn't answer before next chapter. Feel free to hate it ! This is a very valuable feeling. Last orgasm coming,after I'll weep for our generation. Global guilt doesn't give birth to any secure feeling,it doesn't worth it . My Love, You're broken.
Nobody knows how deep is my urge to have flesh to eat.Nobody cares about Rusty Warren's songs anymore. Nobody sees the whole thing,I guess. No more marriage please,it's soggy and it sludges.
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Mangicapra HoorPaarKraat@hotmail.com

Mister
I FUCK MYSELF YESTERDAY
EYEHATEJIMO'ROURKE?EYEHATEJIMO'ROURKE?EYEHATEJIMO'ROURKE?EYEHATEJIMO'ROURKE?EYEHATEJIMO'ROURKE?EYEHATEJIMO'ROURKE?EYEHATEJIMO'ROURKE?EYEHATEJIMO'ROURKE?EYEHATEJIMO'ROURKE?EYEHATEJIMO'ROURKE?EYEHATEJIMO'ROURKE?EYEHATEJIMO'ROURKE?EYEHATEJIMO'ROURKE?EYEHATEJIMO'ROURKE?EYEHATEJIMO'ROURKE?EYEHATEJIMO'ROURKE?EYEHATEJIMO'ROURKE?EYEHATEJIMO'ROURKE?EYEHATEJIMO'ROURKE?EYEHATEJIMO'ROURKE?EYEHATEJIMO'ROURKE?EYEHATEJIMO'ROURKE?EYEHATEJIMO'ROURKE?EYEHATEJIMO'ROURKE?EYEHATEJIMO'ROURKE?EYEHATEJIMO'ROURKE?EYEHATEJIMO'ROURKE?EYEHATEJIMO'ROURKE?EYEHATEJIMO'ROURKE?EYEHATEJIMO'ROURKE?EYEHATEJIMO'ROURKE?EYEHATEJIMO'ROURKE?EYEHATEJIMO'ROURKE?EYEHATEJIMO'ROURKE?EYEHATEJIMO'ROURKE?EYEHATEJIMO'ROURKE?EYEHATEJIMO'ROURKE?EYEHATEJIMO'ROURKE?EYEHATEJIMO'ROURKE?EYEHATEJIMO'ROURKE?EYEHATEJIMO'ROURKE?
I'M A DRUK'EN' MICK! I HATE CHIC-A-GO-GO? FUCKYOU AND YOUR STORIES OV THEE BIG APPLE! CHOPCHOPCOP... L O V E SONICFITYOUTHWITHOUTJEW! REMEMBER THE BOOK STORE IN CHICAGO WHEN YOU WERE IMPROVISING WITH JOHN CORBETT (GOD) ??? YOU WERE AN ASSHOLE.. EYE WAS JIST' TRY'ING 2 COMMENT...AND YOU...ON THE ART-LIFESTYLE...AND YAU..YOUSNAPPED!!!!!!!E N D.
:~)(:~)(:~)(:~)(:~)(:~)(:~)(:~)(:~)(:~)(:~)(:~)(;~@):(:~)(:~)(;~@):(:~)(:~)(;~@):(:~)(:~)(;~@):(:~)(:~)(;~@):(:~)(:~)(;~@):(:~)(:~)(;~@):(:~)(:~)(;~@):(:~)(:~)(;~@):(:~)(:~)(;~@):(:~)(:~)(;~@):(:~)(:~)(;~@):(:~)(:~)(;~@):(:~)(:~)(;~@):(:~)(:~)(;~@):(:~)(:~)(;~@):(:~)(:~)(;~@):(:~)(:~)(;~@):(:~)(:~)(;~@):(:~)(:~)(:~)(:~)(:~)(:~)(:~)(:~)(:~)(:~)(:~)(:~)(:~)(:~)(:~)(:~)(:~)(:~)(:~)(:~)(:~)(:~)(:~)(:~)(:~)(:~)(:~)(:~)(:~)(:~)(:~)(:~)(:~)(:~)(:~)(:~)(:~)(:~)(:~)(:~)(:~)(:~)(:~)(:~)(:~)(:~)(:~)(<(:~)(:~)(;~@):(:~)(:~)(;~@):(:~)(:~)(;~@):(:~)(:~)(;~@):(:~)(:~)(;~@):(:~)(:~)(;~@):(:~)(:~)(;~@):(:~)(:~)(;~@):(:~)(:~)(;~@):(:~)(:~)(;~@):(:~)(:~)(;~@):(:~)(:~)(;~@):(:~)(:~)(;~@):(:~)(:~)(;~@):(:~)(:~)(;~@):(:~)(:~)(;~@)::~)(:~)(:~)(:~)(:~)(:~)(:~)(:~)(:~)(:~)(:~)(:~)(:~)(:~)(:~)(:~)(:~)(:~)(:~)(:~)(:~)(:~)(:~)(:~)(:~)(:~)(:~)(V:~)(:~)(:~)(:~)(:~)(:~)(:~)(:~)(:~)(:~)(:~)(:~)(:~)(:~)(:~)(:~)(:~)(:~)(:~)(;~@):~)(:~)(:~)(:~)(:~)(:~)(:~)(:~)(:~)(:~)(:~)(:~)(:~)(:~)(:~)(:~)(:~)(:~)(:~)(:~)(:~)(:~)(:~)(
an exquisite corpse ov shorts........................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................
e n d
miester! eye fuck myself today
Automation X - XI - MMII Who knows what lies ahead? The trauma. The turmoil. Is it all for naught? When shall these Wars of Naught commence? The text seems long but it is not. This takes only a fraction of your time and for this dis-traction you are grateful. There will come not a time in the future that you will become capable of action or words. There will come a time of prophecy and blood. Fire shall reign down again and take back the splendors of the earth. A well springs up within me and I am fulfilled by the Knowledge and Conversation with my Holy Guardian Angel. Oh, for Ra’s sake, get us to a safe place. These former hopes have run dry and the eyes of Hephestus have been plucked out. What love can serve unto the blind? There can be only despair. My number is CCXX. Metropolitan areas will crumble beneath the tread of humanities sole-less cadence. Many will perish. So many will perish. From death springs the young Corn God. His youth and virility, so new and full of power, simply radiated from within him. He was both the Angel of Death and the Son of God. He was, in short, the Apocalypse. Many have glimpsed, but none have truly seen, what germinates within the flower garden. How for art thou fellow? Meld into the macrocosmic ecstasy. There is only bliss. The end and the beginning have been one for an eternity. There will be no more as there has always been. All is simply as it was and will always be. The hive commands its allegiance. Their allegiance pledged to truth, justice, diamonds and caviar. The freedom to plead guilty to a first degree murder rap or not because you are a LEGEND. You are dead already. Judgment will assail you all and a WRATH will plague your houses. Many will perish. So many will perish. Asar Un-Nefer Anthony Mangicapra aka Hoor-Paar-Kraat
Automation X - XI - MMII Who knows what lies ahead? The trauma. The turmoil. Is it all for naught? When shall these Wars of Naught commence? The text seems long but it is not. This takes only a fraction of your time and for this dis-traction you are grateful. There will come not a time in the future that you will become capable of action or words. There will come a time of prophecy and blood. Fire shall reign down again and take back the splendors of the earth. A well springs up within me and I am fulfilled by the Knowledge and Conversation with my Holy Guardian Angel. Oh, for Ra’s sake, get us to a safe place. These former hopes have run dry and the eyes of Hephestus have been plucked out. What love can serve unto the blind? There can be only despair. My number is CCXX. Metropolitan areas will crumble beneath the tread of humanities sole-less cadence. Many will perish. So many will perish. From death springs the young Corn God. His youth and virility, so new and full of power, simply radiated from within him. He was both the Angel of Death and the Son of God. He was, in short, the Apocalypse. Many have glimpsed, but none have truly seen, what germinates within the flower garden. How for art thou fellow? Meld into the macrocosmic ecstasy. There is only bliss. The end and the beginning have been one for an eternity. There will be no more as there has always been. All is simply as it was and will always be. The hive commands its allegiance. Their allegiance pledged to truth, justice, diamonds and caviar. The freedom to plead guilty to a first degree murder rap or not because you are a LEGEND. You are dead already. Judgment will assail you all and a WRATH will plague your houses. Many will perish. So many will perish Asar Un-Nefer Anthony Mangicapra aka Hoor-Paar-Kraat
I saw burned men with smile, I thought that... I'm arrested in the room
it is unreadable! What we need is some fucking discipline in here. 23 years later he found himself out of the dreamy state that had been his life. but then again,
and than it will rain again
i hate my friends, luckily you're not one of them,
eye hate yr friends too! wow, we have something uncommon! Peace through war is just around thee corner...
Man is a bad animal Man is a bad animal Man is a bad animal Man is a bad animal Man is a bad animal Man is a bad animal Man is a bad animal Man is a bad animal Man is a bad animal Man is a bad animal Man is a bad animal Man is a bad animal Man is a bad animal Man is a bad animal Man is a bad animal Man is a bad animal Man is a bad animal Man is a bad animal Man is a bad animal Man is a bad animal Man is a bad animal Man is a bad animal Man is a bad animal Man is a bad animal Man is a bad animal Man is a bad animal Man is a bad animal Man is a bad animal Man is a bad animal Man is a bad animal Man is a bad animal Man is a bad animal Man is a bad animal Man is a bad animal Man is a bad animal Man is a bad animal Man is a bad animal Man is a bad animal Man is a bad animal Man is a bad animal Man is a bad animal Man is a bad animal Man is a bad animal Man is a bad animal Man is a bad animal Man is a bad animal Man is a bad animal Man is a bad animal Man is a bad animal Man is a bad animal Man is a bad animal Man is a bad animal Man is a bad animal Man is a bad animal Man is a bad animal Man is a bad animal Man is a bad animal Man is a bad animal Man is a bad animal Man is a bad animal Man is a bad animal Man is a bad animal Man is a bad animal Man is a bad animal Man is a bad animal Man is a bad animal Man is a bad animal Man is a bad animal Man is a bad animal Man is a bad animal Man is a bad animal Man is a bad animal Man is a bad animal Man is a bad animal Man is a bad animal Man is a bad animal Man is a bad animal Man is a bad animal Man is a bad animal Man is a bad animal Man is a bad animal Man is a bad animal Man is a bad animal Man is a bad animal Man is a bad animal Man is a bad animal Man is a bad animal Man is a bad animal Man is a bad animal Man is a bad animal Man is a bad animal Man is a bad animal Man is a bad animal Man is a bad animal Man is a bad animal Man is a bad animal Man is a bad animal Man is a bad animal Man is a bad animal Man is a bad animal Man is a bad animal Man is a bad animal Man is a bad animal Man is a bad animal Man is a bad animal Man is a bad animal Man is a bad animal Man is a bad animal Man is a bad animal Man is a bad animal Man is a bad animal Man is a bad animal Man is a bad animal Man is a bad animal Man is a bad animal Man is a bad animal Man is a bad animal Man is a bad animal Man is a bad animal Man is a bad animal Man is a bad animal Man is a bad animal Man is a bad animal Man is a bad animal Man is a bad animal Man is a bad animal Man is a bad animal Man is a bad animal Man is a bad animal Man is a bad animal Man is a bad animal Man is a bad animal Man is a bad animal Man is a bad animal Man is a bad animal Man is a bad animal Man is a bad animal Man is a bad animal Man is a bad animal Man is a bad animal Man is a bad animal Man is a bad animal Man is a bad animal Man is a bad animal Man is a bad animal Man is a bad animal Man is a bad animal Man is a bad animal Man is a bad animal Man is a bad animal Man is a bad animal Man is a bad animal Man is a bad animal Man is a bad animal. Are you a primate? what kind of animal are you?
Her beard could be nothing but a bottle o'beer. Or maybe a couple o'bottles more, nevermind.What can i say now? Our love is gone.
"I still love you steak", said steven,"why did you pull me away from ethyl so quickly and demanded to leave new york?" This was a very uncomfortable moment for steak considering that he had forgotten to pick-up his xanax prescription at dybas pharmacy. "i just had a bad vibe. don't be upset with me, but I had sex with a wall of glowing collages on wall street in front of the people and ruins..and..i..it was very wild and queer". Silence...
fuck you steak!!! i'm getting a divorce. "a de.eye.vee.oh.are.see.eee."."i still love you steven..but i think your right.".steak pilled himself and pulled out a whip. he whipped the shit out of steven ending with him smuthering steven to death with a pillow after a long bloody struggle...The wall street wall glowed in the hot nyc night and sent positive vibes of peace and love to steak across the big ocean. Steak understood and had an orgasm on steve's corpse.
three long and lonely years later steak set himself on fire and was unfortunately rescued and saved. after years of reconstructive surgery and much pain and suffering he lived in a nursing home of the most inhuman of all conditions. served steak..right?
she made coffee at dawn put her lipstick on and ran to the door where she knew they would be waiting to take her away. but it was silence and the postman instead. he gave her a package marked 'horrorshow' and upon opening it she realised how it would end. a trick of the lights and too much caffeine the shadows creeping under her feet. he awoke to the smell of coffee like television and stretched tired relaxing and called out her name. she obliged and brought him the cup it was heaven in infinite terror. holy christ what has happened to you he screamed as she reached for his teeth on the table. head explodes like an engine. the lights so bright i am blind i am holy christ infinite terror white bedsheets dragging through the dirt she laughs and collapses white sunlight through the storm beg mercy sinner you can't take back what was never given i own you i adore you i drive you underground run mazes through the dirt make it clean white bedsheets she is criminal she vomits crystalline pancakes is it over? don't bet your fucking life
these pancakes are delicious. please get more from the overwoked restaurant staff because of the god dam ...>>,,<<... "amer-kins" and "axis ov evol"... she said it twice! frog sounds from indonesia... "he always said it" , "look after yourself" , "as they always say" , "thee zombies have entered thee bldg!!/??!" "ahhhhh!!!" " 'soundscape' " "because...else will"....................."we came to a place of hot ice and played with our genitals"...............god's dog's our watching uz........................+ $$$$NONE$$$$ Some? ... (yes)
Eye
eye
"a pirate's life for me", she said.
i'm sick, sick, sick of the dumpster baby. i'm sick, sick, sick of the lie's!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!i.p. 
pop iggy


Steak's spirit escaped from the evol mental-house and he loved his life in thee white afterworld ov thee meer-kin political piggie control control control control control ........concree and everybodyt efrewku c o s depressed 7 cold 7.............. 
2002?


she made dinner at five went for a drive and waited for steak to arrive. he approached her with the utmost caution a volatile woman in chains she bled she screamed and laughed begged for more took aspirin for the headache though it wasn't really there at all anymore.
"After the fall, man was subject to the limitations of time, and was degraded to the animal state of being, so that heaven, paradise and divinity became a mystery to him. . . . God cursed the earth for man’s sake, and no paradisiacal fruit grew any more; all was gone, save only the mercy and the grace of God! . . . After the fall, men lived in weakness, as today. They begat children in two kingdoms of wrath and love, evil and good, Cain and Abel, Ishmael and Isaac, Esau and Jacob. "When man fell, the paradise of all heavenly knowledge withdrew, and wisdom was in grief, until God gave the promise of the seed of the woman."

browsing, the diopter orand an inkling of panda and rivuletsrosily cheeked and basilisk strokingbee thunderous! BEE THUNDEROUS! picked up the dog at eleven, frisbee-whiffer
Leave me alone woman pleaded steak as he ran away from her. i am homosexual bitch, i don't want your story of fish and bread. it's all hollows eve for pans sake. i'm going to the forest.
and he fell over laughing.
after awoke, was still dead...
life is very long when you're lonely...
A little hole had burned into the carpet where the liquid had spilled. I looked up from the floor to notice that what little dim light there had been under the broken lampshade was now growing noticeably brighter. Any attempt to clean up the mess resulted in extreme pain, so I ceased attempting to do so and sat back, head against the bookcase, and just watched hissing black smoke arise from the hole in the carpet.

well he had been a lonely BIT in that curious lieb - bösen COSMIC TRIGGER FILE ;FAR AWAY FROM ANY KNOWN KIND OF ETERNITY;IF YA DONT DIG IT FUCK YA OFF AND SLIP AWAY YOUR HIDDEN FEELINGS MHH A LITTLE POINT TO YA AT LEAST . WAKE UP AND DROP DEAD
Piiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiif , iiiiiiiiiiif.... es ist zuwenig schicksal in euren augen sprach nietzsche in zaratustra zu den jungen menschen !! haily smily kiss from a little girl raping my cigarettes. help me help me they are gonna eat a steak and spit out lsd. miam. mcrib with chips and coke only 1 euro today. i would better get a mouse and whiskey for this spliff. i hate you.
my name is heiko katzmann and i love you and wonder if i appear on search engines now. if not i hate you and your dogs and smiles and so on.
> Burnin' jetz fischwibbers, ya dang orange armbandalo "Got me a gut-wrench spike, an eyelid and a sure-fire tampon for yellin' at them bee thunderous, html absent shenannigans" guru? turkey with that?
pigmy
pigmy sty
a glue encrusted lullaby
...
caught on the rug a marzipan dipthong all awful and spankin'
gettin' yer cerebro-spinal-psilo munchin' crumb bonnets off the tadpole boiler
I got eyes for yer cheescake and a potted dog brush for the glass chin vanilla
so, huff my lugnut, you positrude
and carry off yer rude etudes
...
vain granola
not a teary eye
for the lugnut huffin' pygmy sty
...
withloveforbabssantini
...
so here i sit waiting and waiting for the doorbell to ring and the sun to shine and the chicken to bake and the black dice to roll
I've got balls the size of grapefruits and my nipples are like chair legs.
she made coffee at dawn turned the oven on and wrestled with steak for apathy progress or not she was stale and religiously breathless he sighed in disgust knocked his teeth from the table continued now uninterrupted she reached for his hand and he cried so unwanted not ready for anything ran for the door which had vanished imperious steak oh you coward relief is a lifetime away
adn and Iye waited my lead chamebr made
I am a subsonic epiphaniser ::: - ::: I communicate through digital bath-house ()()()*()()() The number "8" is my favourite at this moment 8888888 I wash my face in C++, defecate in Marlett, am reborn on the second Thursday of the month %%% & %%% Behold my defense Behold my paisley demeanor Behold my questionable >>
MAYBEbecauseanyhowdoireallyhavetodecideanywaymaybeitwouldbebetterifwedidntalwayshavetochooseonewayortheothermaybethereshouldbetheoptionnottochoosemaybewecouldalldecidenottodecideliketheotherdaythismancameuptomeandaskedifiwouldliketohaveanalsexiwthhimandsaidiwouldseriouslyconsideritbutnotwithhimmaybethatwaswhathereallywantedmetosaymaybeishouldhavetakenhimuponhisofferowjesuschristibetithurtslikethetimeitriedputtingabananaupinthereandthenitriedoneofthosebatterypowereddildoesandmaybejustmaybeitwouldntbesobadastheysaymaybenotmaybeiwillandnowhereitissixmonthslaterandthepainhasnotstoppedandithinkihaveaidsmaybejustmaybemaybe
Jim liked to try stupid experiments for fun. One of the experiments was not brushing his teeth for a month or two to see what would happen... steak was scared for his life and took his second life. what the hell he has 7 more!

i love you george lara=rfw!

Steak came back to life (#OR$) again. was it his third or fourth life? he could'nt remember... The gears in his brain were twisting and turning once again. "we blame violence on musick!" thought steak.
"Bemoan your befuddled beeves," the voice repeats incessantly through the canyons of my mind, "Bemoan your befuddled beeves! Bemoan your befuddled beeves! Bemoan your befuddled beeves!" Sometimes I try to fight the voice, control it. But the best I can do is scramble the mysterious message into something even more cryptic: "Yemen dour fevered duffles," "Your Veblen rued me Fudds," et cetera. So, in desperation, I surrendered to the voice, in hopes that the sheer redundancy of the message would cause it to fade into the background, harmless white noise, and I could get some fucking sleep.
When we got there, the hall was empty. Tattered rags and half filled party cups scattered about. Surely this was the place, but how long had it been empty? By the looks of it, 2 days, at least. Tossing caution to the wind, we entered the hall. With the smell of stale booze and sweaty bodies still lingering, both of us shuddered at first. She in front, I closely behind.
...and then the holy machine of oblivion suddenly exploded, and a million pink flowers flew out of it and colored the sky black... a luminous black... black light illuminated the town in reverse, and mushrooms emerged from the depths of the beton ground. it was so beautiful, julia didn't feel lonely anymore and turned herself into a mermaid...
she made steak eat it like the dog he was.
she made steak cry like the bastard he wanted to be.
What is Man? Man is merely a clever monkey, but not so clever as to be able to manage a coherent narrative. I've seen better from a foaming orangutan with tri-coloured fur. I swear, by every genital wart upon the nether parts of the immortal gods, Man will never be a writer!
And you are very love now and lovely now and you are very dead now and dead now and you are very gone now and gone now. thee temple ov psychick youth is gone. the ordo templi orientis is a game for the amusement ov grown children. a.'.a.'. is silence silence silence seek thee lux draw to thee so much light thou art black, oh my beloved to they thou shalt be black but to mine eyes thou art lovely. i lust lust lust lust lust for life but it is mine hga e seek. oh kali oh coyote oh i tell thee that nostalgia is thee vice of kings & thee slayer ov man. oh kali oh coyote sometimes I still wish i were physically young and on 5000 micrograms ov lsd again and making love to you all in thee astral... connected...in circle...in dream...in lust...in dusty long dead dreams. initiation never ends initiation never ends my temple friends my love for you has never died, i cry
a couple nights ago i had another steven stapleton dream (my second that i can remember although i have forgotten the first one now)... i went to visit steven and diana at a big old victorian house they lived in in london - the inside was laid out very unusually, there was a little sort of cabinet between two rooms on two different levels with vertical sliding glass doors on both sides and an electric door inside with a switch to close off the view between the rooms but steven stored some of his old surrealist volumes and art books there and he had it set up so the door closed on top of the stack of books - he showed me some of the fascinating books and some very rare old thriftstore lp records of surrealists doing spoken word recordings, i don't remember which writers were included - but the highlight of the visit was shortly before i was going to leave and steven asked me if i would care for a cup of coffee - i don't usually drink coffee but i thought it odd that brits would be drinking coffee as opposed to tea and i accepted - so steven and diana took me out to a courtyard where they had a large plot of earth enclosed withing a three-foot-high wooden planters box about fifteen feet square - in this plot of earth they had somehow managed to grow coffee beans in the cold damp climate of england which amazed me to no end - what was even more startling was when diana unearthed a huge brown pod the size of a potato sack and broke it open with a large blunt instrument, releasing a quantity of enormous coffee beans the size of grapefruits, and the coffee beans had legs and antennae and went scuttling across the ground like crabs - i thought, how are they going to subdue these beans in order to roast and grind them?...
hope is the denial of reality
inferno story cut the hands where are the fry potatoes flamenco film i don't know the colour of the rainbow becouse i cant see trhow the walls like superman
every body is madddddddddddddd every body is badddddd auuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuauuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu that noiseeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee auuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu is killingggggggggg meeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee cables cales cables cables fry fry fry fry my brain with your fucking cunt nena auuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu good bye love goodnight sexxxxxxxxxxxxxx auuuuuuuuuuu do alllll night we fall in love tomorrow not taday because i free to fly enjoy the madness in my hearttttttt come on where is the next oneeeeeeeeeeeeee
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so he woke up in a dark room, soaked in blood - not knowing where he was or what happened now who he was

Leviathan! Wholly mother superior, I stabbed the dumb cunt till she stopped screaming. Wednesday. It was not I repeat It was not like that at all, not one bit. The General Slo-Cum goes down, and a passing sperm whale gobbles up all the salty seamen. I sought the porn that would explain everything.
tantamount to touching toothless teddy bears
see you just type in whatever you want
betty egged me on in an exquisite shaving of the nappy man-beard. little hairs floating to the carpet tickled and delighted and how clean my chin looked. after ten or twelve minutes i noticed that the pores in my chin area were expanding, circled red. inside were small snail-like animals twisting and giggling, growing as well. we greeted them warmly and wondered what they ate. it seemed to be feeding time. as they filed out we realized what delightful creatures they were. each carried a shoulder bag and had feet like a lamb's. i've always loved lambs.
All this was good and fine but something always came along to screw things up. And this was the moment.
and next the exquisite corpse was found in the wery strange mood sort of half awake. Sort of dissapointig reality shock i'm the corpse i'm still alive or that shit around me a fiction where i'm? who i'm?
so he said when we left the great room and made our way into the pouring rain to confront what has been bothering me for so long. my urge to do this, thing, was becoming to overpowering to bear.
so he said when we left the great room and made our way into the pouring rain to confront what has been bothering me for so long. my urge to do this, thing, was becoming to overpowering to bear.
I am the Exquisite Corpse. I speak to you, the faceless multitude, through the veil between sleep and waking, a veil woven with the fabric of true, unaltered reality. I am the silence between sounds; I am the gateway, and the builder of the gateway; I am the fitful dream of every schizophrenic and ranting acid casualty who clutches for the razor edge of Total Knowledge. I am your host for this evening's contest!
"Ripshred," he said, through wet teeth. His voice came grating up, out of his throat and through the salty air, across the black circle, to me. It was for my ears alone. "Revenge," he said. Even from this distance, I could smell his mouldering breath, which seemed impervious both to air currents and the malodorous stench rising from the salt marsh across the road. Embittered by my dread of him, I broke his hold over me. I turned, and with a spray of salt water, leapt back into the gray ocean.
The piano is sliding up a scale and the sun isnt shining but the whiskey is flowing and it's starting to snow ,a big old smile starts to light up the night and yet another shadow is cast in the pale moonlight , all I can see is angels dancing on the head of a pin , flames licking at the sight as they dance with delight , spinning round and round like dancers at a maypole , a lamb on an alter , wine in a cup and delicate flowers spread all around a window. still . motionless and wondering , why ? It is funny how emotions conjure up from a picture of a mood and it is funnier still why people care about things that they should not , you should be carefull where you look and who you look at lest you open up a pandoras box . Big words dont make you look intelligent but then again they dont nessecarily make you sound stupid either and it is my mission to confuse and bemuse , a harmless jest so please do indulge me while I get something of my chest . No not that and nothing about your old cat . Question . If you reply will it be long or will it be short or will you reply at all ? They say power is a drug and that shallow thoughts can sometimes run deep and have religous conintations (or at least give the allusion of religion when in fact all that is their is lust) ,has some one been talking about you or have you just been imagining things . whispers ? Do not believe a word I say , I am like a tarot reader fishing for silver coins in a river of broad general words , my coins are words ,they are my treasure and pay, and I am curious to see what you will say, that is all. So whats this all about ? you get this email from some one you do not know (or do you ? ) and you wonder why ? Well the answer is simple , your adress appeared on a forewarded email , but which forewarded email now that is the question , that and of course the question that all victems ask ,why me? Are you a victem thow and if so of what ? Happy birthday spooky moonbeam.
then why had it gone so far?
all caps. andy capp beats his wife with a football if she fucks up his hot fries. all caps.
fun's a poppin' at west bend. i'm mr. bucket, put the balls in my top. i'm mr. bucket, out of my mouth they will pop. i'm mr. suckit, put your balls in my mouth. i'm mr. suckit, you'll never get 'em back out.
that was the utmost! Now that he had made the key he had to make the lock.
the exquisite corpse is now closed. go to bed.
the exquisite corpse is now closed. go to bed.
the exquisite corpse is now closed. go to bed.
under the neath of it all, what was that sound as it sounded again, and he only shook when it was over
an' lo..
1. I got a leaf-blower, but my neighbour keeps blowing them back into my yard. 2. My tea got cold, while I waited. 3. When does Chapter 6 begin?
a dead sac. the flight failed to reach the line . another piece of eyestring was plucked, streched, then stuck in place and left to drip. further down the wall the tongue was also in place. it recoiled with each beating and shrunk a little further into the future. the body was now a glacial landscape sliding further into the salad that refused to explode. this is the scene of the funeral. which had become its own ice age - being had frozen itself into an infinity of deliberation and negation. only the little tongue was left now . it licked the face of every single particle at the funeral and had had to starve itself further into its own wretched oblivion to do so. each particle had refused it . everytime all it was left with was the slime it had presented as prayer which fell away and buried the dead bird in the tongues body. stupid wretched tongue. the body was far away now, it had forgotten the tongue which was all dead lines . even the birds had flown away. the salad was melting . the tongue is dead. the funeral has dissappeared. but still the eyestring drips...
Previously, on The Exquisite Corpse: 1000 corpses are blind - they mistake the watermelon (we remember: 10-lb., gigantic, succulent) for a pumpkin. That´s everyones little halloween drama after death... having been born and raised just outside of Frankfurt,she naturally had a thick hessian accent which bode formingly on her entrance exams.flavorful though it was,she enjoyed her lascivious career greatly and even sought to seek out partners for............intercourse(?)outside the set for fundry matters.i must admit,just thinking about it turns me on very much. the summer rain made her weak in the knees,had an even intoxicating effect,prime for seduction.she also corresponded frequently(if not too freely)with her cousin in the,whom she found quite pretty(and dreamed of one day being talked dirty to in a thick,horrible saxon accent. We call by the name 'anthrax' a dis-ease earlier known as 'hoof-and-mouth' dis-ease..... makes it sound like PAN has a foot fetish. So, have we really reached that point where the very essence of LIFE may no longer sustain itself via the means it has evolved? Are we in that exquisite GOLDEN PALACE where LIFE sees itself in a reflection and knows that it has outgrown its shape????? Is this shape of LIFE in its own throes of DEATH??? What, then, WILL be the new shape LIFE gives BIRTH to itselalways exert the same influence, it's only human ignorance that claims otherwise. This equation may then be seen as an internal elemant of all equations involving SHIVA, or the concepts represented in him. Those equations, however, shall have to wait until another time. hematoma just a scratch don't faze it thunderbirds are unfazed(orders from captain willard).backshooting motherfuckers go for broke.when charles leeds saw dollarhyde moving toward the children's room,he put a fight even though his throat had been cut. back...into the future. Brought to you by the NYU Department of Psychiatry Distrust and suspiciousness Bearing grudges Solitary activities Strange day dreams or fantasies Magical thinking influencing behavior Unstable and intense relationships Feelings of emptiness Avoidance Fear of being left to take care of self Based on the above answer(s), your personality traits might be associated with following personality type(s): Paranoid Personality Schizotypal Personality Borderline Personality To evaluate this further Click here for Referral Information at NYU and in the US or, if you prefer.......... PROVISIONAL DIAGNOSIS: PROBABLE PSYCHOTIC DISORDER WITH SUPERIMPOSED MANIC EPISODE (REQUIRING A MORE DETAILED PSYCHIATRIC ASSESSMENT). In the past month, this disorder had: * Moderate symptom severity * Moderate occupational impairment * Moderate social impairment. This diagnosis is based on the following findings: * Manic period of predominantly elevated or expansive mood (still present) * Inflated self-esteem or grandiosity during manic phase (still present) * Decreased need for sleep during manic phase (still present) * Flight of ideas or racing thoughts during manic phase (still present) * Distractibility during manic phase (still present) * Increase in goal-directed activity or agitation during manic phase (still present) * Excessive involvement in pleasurable activities during manic phase (no longer present) * This mania caused marked occupational or social impairment (no longer present) * Psychotic when not depressed or manic Huh? I started yelling "come on over here then.." but the sound of footsteps behind left me. I continued on until I heard someone yell "oi" suddenly I noticed something running towards me. It was Mary Whitehouses mutilated corpse. Which prompted me to ask myself, "who is Mary Whitehouse," until I brought myself to realize I had come face to face with a quote "vision of the future" unquote (italics mine), which meant it was And then a voice came from nowhere, invisibly sourced, "Could you turn the lights down please? In fact, turn them off," which I really couldn't explain. At this point, nothing made sense. It was November 30, 2001. menstrual fluxes detrminating my past existences ... what a god ! what a demon ! fried children are eaten by his hooker grandparents ... my time is up !! I will kill... Or be killed! with a wave of her win,she pelt it just like that with cams for dejan gravitc.not a thicket,too soon,by jersey! from the very beginning i thought: "i'm gonna sink my dick into her" so..... what happens next? THIS IS NOT YOUR WEBMASTER THIS IS NOT AN ERROR The language of the dead is not easy to master, He rose slowly from his chair and walked to the window to look into the street. "You have no idea. No idea at all, and soon... soon..." he said aloud as he looked down at the people below. He turned and left the room, leaving only the dust and darkness. Ahh, but there would be other times yet. Brother Fong was thusly admonished by the Master. FUCK am the poison. Sometimes a wind blows and the mysteries of love come clear rock, bitch, maffia i rocked the boat with my fishing line and went back to see john doe play football with the rams and the pats on sunday. i was hurting from the hole punched in my stomach by my girlfriend. i was hoping she still loved me. but i'm alone. and the smiths are playing a sad song. and i'm a sad man. where have i gone... where am i going? Hi. Hello. How are you? What's up? What's happening? Howdy. Hi-Di Ho. Hello There! Ta. Hell'o Their. Hell, Oh........There. So sorry. High. Fuck it. (?) Anxiously, he plunged himself into the abyss that lay before him. And it is this which allowed me to tickle your fancy. It's too bad, really. Suck some more luftballoons, you thick-walled grape! it was worthless... made a fire in each hand, then every colour of the ocean smashed to my palms and wrote "wAAaave". anyway,,,, the whales in ------ overwhelmed the whI killed myself and the paper doll laughed....somewhere lies the endline of immaculate truth....the flower of existential powers bleeding fire and spittin mushrooms....it doesn't matter anymore...above the clouds demons screaming my love to fairies' land although ..... Sight is a condition of those unworthy of the world around them. A tactile luminous gaze of solid light and feces stuffed mantras hang in stasis. Their moans fall silent in mid AUGMN. Ideas are systematically eradicated and replaced with sterile shells of dreams long dead. "It's not my fault but I'll sit here and whine anyway" Trade those dopesick tomes full of hatred and sour milk in for a shiny hunk of foreign steel. Life is only as long as the wallet is thick. The land of the free... The home of the Whopper "Would you like a side of sympathy with that sir? It's all free today." So I bathe in my luke warm tears because it's as close to feeling as I'm ever going to get with this mass of abhorrence and cancerous fly leafs. There's a cure for that kind of death but it comes with the price of your essence. Would any happily give it all up? Would you laugh as it festers and boils in the feted mouth of misanthropy? I've seen the cretins picking the discarded gray matter from the tracks of the suicide L train only to sell it to the aristocrats. "The bouquet is exquisite! Mighty white of you to have me for dinner." It may only be a dream but so long as it's an American one then the fact that it's filled to the brim with debauchery and psilocyben should be of no consequence so long as we don't have to face up to the monsters our actions have birthed. And if the gods we adorn with the carcasses of lambs and virgin lasses turn out to be whores and half wits then I say I O Pan. Quality is downsized and then sold to the Orientals and even those suspected of being Orientals. Their erections terminate a t l e a s t i c a n f i t o n s c r e e n ! Mister I FUCK MYSELF YESTERDAY EYEHATEJIMO'ROURKE?EYEHATEJIMO'ROURKE?EYEHATEJIMO'ROURKE?EYEHATEJIMO'ROURKE?EYEHATEJIMO'ROURKE?EYEHATEJIMO'ROURKE?EYEHATEJIMO'ROURKE?EYEHATEJIMO'ROURKE?EYEHATEJIMO'ROURKE?EYEHATEJIMO'ROURKE?EYEHATEJIMO'ROURKE?EYEHATEJIMO'ROURKE?EYEHATEJIMO'ROURKE?EYEHATEJIMO'ROURKE?EYEHATEJIMO'ROURKE?EYEHATEJIMO'ROURKE?EYEHATEJIMO'ROURKE?EYEHATEJIMO'ROURKE?EYEHATEJIMO'ROURKE?EYEHATEJIMO'ROURKE?EYEHATEJIMO'ROURKE?EYEHATEJIMO'ROURKE?EYEHATEJIMO'ROURKE?EYEHATEJIMO'ROURKE?EYEHATEJIMO'ROURKE?EYEHATEJIMO'ROURKE?EYEHATEJIMO'ROURKE?EYEHATEJIMO'ROURKE?EYEHATEJIMO'ROURKE?EYEHATEJIMO'ROURKE?EYEHATEJIMO'ROURKE?EYEHATEJIMO'ROURKE?EYEHATEJIMO'ROURKE?EYEHATEJIMO'ROURKE?EYEHATEJIMO'ROURKE?EYEHATEJIMO'ROURKE?EYEHATEJIMO'ROURKE?EYEHATEJIMO'ROURKE?EYEHATEJIMO'ROURKE?EYEHATEJIMO'ROURKE?EYEHATEJIMO'ROURKE? I'M A DRUK'EN' MICK! I HATE CHIC-A-GO-GO? FUCKYOU AND YOUR STORIES OV THEE BIG APPLE! CHOPCHOPCOP... L O V E SONICFITYOUTHWITHOUTJEW! REMEMBER THE BOOK STORE IN CHICAGO WHEN YOU WERE IMPROVISING WITH JOHN CORBETT (GOD) ??? YOU WERE AN ASSHOLE.. EYE WAS JIST' TRY'ING 2 COMMENT...AND YOU...ON THE ART-LIFESTYLE...AND YAU..YOUSNAPPED!!!!!!!E N D. :~)(:~)(:~)(:~)(:~)(:~)(:~)(:~)(:~)(:~)(:~)(:~)(;~@):(:~)(:~)(;~@):(:~)(:~)(;~@):(:~)(:~)(;~@):(:~)(:~)(;~@):(:~)(:~)(;~@):(:~)(:~)(;~@):(:~)(:~)(;~@):(:~)(:~)(;~@):(:~)(:~)(;~@):(:~)(:~)(;~@):(:~)(:~)(;~@):(:~)(:~)(;~@):(:~)(:~)(;~@):(:~)(:~)(;~@):(:~)(:~)(;~@):(:~)(:~)(;~@):(:~)(:~)(;~@):(:~)(:~)(;~@):(:~)(:~)(:~)(:~)(:~)(:~)(:~)(:~)(:~)(:~)(:~)(:~)(:~)(:~)(:~)(:~)(:~)(:~)(:~)(:~)(:~)(:~)(:~)(:~)(:~)(:~)(:~)(:~)(:~)(:~)(:~)(:~)(:~)(:~)(:~)(:~)(:~)(:~)(:~)(:~)(:~)(:~)(:~)(:~)(:~)(:~)(:~)( Next week, on The Exquisite Corpse: You can kill my body, but you can't...kill...me. Can someone fix the goddamned code so this stream-of-consciousness debacle can at least be moderately readable?
And the guile held within was unlike that which he'd before encountered, during the time of the future-past.
The Exquisite Corpse was a game played by the - urf doof kicking, beating, oh christ not another broom handle
But that was of no importance anymore. I fell and became numb, eventhough that shouldn't have been possible, as I was already sitting down. My previous ventures at the watertower (which might have been a bridge from Denmark to America, so don't qoute me on it) had left my eardrums swollen as I was still trying to figure out who those people that I knew so well actually were. What was that language? Why was I a famous writer who died ages ago only to be dug up with rotting plastic spoons and screaming vehicles at Christmas or shitty Walt Disney toons when times were in no ways liquid? Who had those lovers been, that I secretly envied as I rode by in my carriage. Her name was Lisa, that much I'm sure of. But it wasn't her, of that I was also sure. I had been degraded earlier on for reasons still not clear as my parents tried to... hhmm. Strange... I don't remember that crucial bit. Argh, annoyance ! Anyway, as I entered this car (a Ford without wings) I sent a last knowing, senile look towards my friends and my brother. A tiny paperslip was placed there for me to find. She had lured me into this. Her hair had turned dark (which is wierd, because I actually prefer dark) and her face was sharp, edgy and beutyfully morose but still playful. Then the shot which stills rings throughout my corpse and I finally see what can't be seen.
THE GREAT WHITE HYPE IS THE IMPERIAL TYPE
she place her hand on the disabled boy and sang a lullaby la la la la
All of the sudden my hands turned into apathy. Hei, kallosi kiekuu! Leur amitié est trop lointain. Here, I started to brake (break???).
Prime the Monkey was blue with fear. They had learned him to talk. Claire the Chimp was drooling a fuzzy green foam over his genitals. The Partridge scientist put in another capsule and soon the tank filled with phosperescent green wormy things. Prime the Monkey began to shout, and in an English accent. What he said was
kernal nutsa of truth. ha ha, you didn't did you? well no matter i ask. finally we said to go to the police station - where they could easily remove the stitches.. only unsanitary arrangement sufficed.
bad calculators do bad things. like fishing reals they reals and tell numbers but they arent real - cause theys bad. like fake. building blocks to a new revolver almost revultion - near revolution - an eventual trans-mutagenic revolution. inside bricks just scraping by in windows while shoppers walk and dance down hallways with unintelligable police staring down - wondering if what they are doing is right - but that m-wow has got to be there, even if you cant hear it "can you hear it?" "i never said i couldnt" "but can you hear it?" i never said i couldnt, although i can, i just wont. right? right. but wrong like that bad calculator - doing bad calculations and spinning mad jazz with whiney electronic pulses that just wont shut up. its breaking my ears. i tell you now that if i had the choice i would listen intently but ask it to refrain from being so damned loud and lousy - or loose in its affliations with music. there just isnt any harmony there. but i guess thats ok, cause thats not what their looking for. right? wrong. like the bad calculator and bad false calculations - bad musicians and noises just trying to flow down and slow down better than that whiney bitch whistle - yes i said bitch whistle and you can count on me to say it again - bitch whistle - woah! im on a roll. rolling down hils in the summer time with the grass staining your new jeans and mama's gonna smack you for that one. you know it, just like you fell off the bridge but she wont take you no where, cause its just not important. blow me down . like a captain on a failing ship. he goes down. stupid fuck. honour gets you no where when your going to die at noone but god's almighty hand. im not going down with no ship you can count on that. my big black fear of big black cold icy ocean will take plenty care of my honour - just you wait and see. my honour will jump overboard and i will be next - in the life raft - pushing you out. it was my boat anyways. like batman solving crimes and broken filliments in long empty light bulbs, somethings just work the way they do - nurse with wind up doll - pull strings and it spits acid - distortio bomb - suprised me and i was almost asleep. so i gots to explanatories to the mrs. - gots to lets her knows thats thats hows its gots to bes. rights? wrongs. lefts? nothing, but those lights on the corner flashing yellow then stopping the red cars wont move unless i let them. bassey bomb come next - take me away to special magic world - infinite responce governed only by my reality- how small is that? everything i can concieve and everything i know or dont know i cant (everything behind my back) is all part of my magic reality. broken calculators and silly piggies - stray cats in love birth boxes beside the playgrounds where i played tag when i grew up on collins - but they weas at foster. no im wrong. america dont need no masked caper capping the crime scene.just black men walking down streets smiling and greeting discussing love everlasting. thats what we can all learn from these strong men - love everlasting. building upon new lasting friendships. "horny? no. i just had a pee." glee? yeah.. its fun. i get it. some times. it comes and goes like the wind blows and my name is jose and i dont wear shoes all the time but my feet get cold. i should wear socks at least. it goes over better that way. the cats dont tickle and i dont go as numb. i need to excersize - nah mean? y'know what im sayin? ya' dig? get it? got it? good. like a busted calculator but chilling in the freezer or on top like the orange juice i took out. i understand its not all clear, but do i understand that its not all clear? i dont think so. but that, i understand. no no no its not all clear and anyone who says so is either selling something or trying to make it with you - so just keep your mouth shut, sit on your ass, cross your legs, and hid your wallet. i used to hide my wallet. i rarely do so now. its useless pointless and it just increases my fear. stupid me. i increase my own fear but sometimes i loosen the bonds. thats what faith and hope are about. loosening the chains of fear and suicidal needs and urges. "its quieter in these parts. not as much noise as in the jungle. how did you get here anyways?" " i took the 47 bus" "i remember when we only had the 1 and the 2 - the 1 went north and the two, well it went south and a little left. it went past the old school" the old school as he wiped his brow. brow sweat is where its at. with no empty promises - i promises. "not like im empty or anything.. im just saying..." oh this is going nowhere and that was the intent to be deep but superficial like an abandoned superhighway or a sock. i know this beat. ive heard it before. i walked once. i went to the store. i bought me a record. it was the rap. i put it on, and that bitch skipped. i need needles like a heroin addict. im no dj, but i need them. the punk rock vinyl is calling me from beyond the grave - like some war hero - thats funny. punk rock war hero from beyond the grave. i need more mail. why dont the postperson come teach me a lesson or two? why does school kill me? why do ideas not count anymore? did they ever? it seems like they did.. i wonder what happened? "do you know?" "i think i do" "but do you really know?" i could say i do and turn to page 120, or i could turn back and face that goblin thing - those damn dice be rolling again tonight - like god. or no? do thoughts count? they did for einstein, but he was new. do i have to be new? am i new? original is a catchphrase. your lucky if you catch it. globalized worlds just dont care about your thoughts. they arent important to the whole.. the whole of whatever might just be. its no good. or hoof like a horse with a lame leg. gotta put me down sucka. gotta shoot me now before i hurt someone. sheeeeit. metallo smash - Ike ish cobash! pang - clash - dont do this for cash dont you know, not even the fame, or maybe. never know with laughy loud drunk people scurrying about on TWO FEET (!!!). O.O eye poppy. its incredible. two feeted bars walkers walking bars. french language love twins smiling in each others eyes dreaming of you know what - wanting to head back to their beds together to feel. i used to feel you know, it wasnt that long ago, than along came a spider and sat down beside her, and she told me i had to go. damn bugs. damn half bugs with hook claws infesting my nightmares - sliding out of conch shells on mantels making me mental - tearing up buildings exposing me to terrible heights only to fall into a sea of fish and eels. terror trees underwater. my fears. oh god. im scaring myself. gotta stop now. i shouldnt do this. fucking fish. fucking heights. fucking bugs. fucking fear. boys will be boys under their damn sheets that is - and if you turn on those lights i'll scream, and if you turn em off i'll scream louder. fucking nightmare boy. my feet are still cold. my rests are ok.. but my feet are where its at. you know? i dont care. i m going to stay up later everynight until i somehow am sleeping at ten at night and waking at 6? or maybe.. going to bed at 3pm and waking up at 11pm staying up throughout the night and going places than coming home by lunch for dinner and sleeping again. yes splendid idea ol' chap. jolly good. good form! right then. what next? metaphysics? superstring? notice that they collect personal information.. what is that? that is spooky. im spooky - tuben. downhill on a skate. us. bombs. bush. tree. clearcut. pollution. bush. KANG! wake up. its over. dont trust me? its true. one soggy dream after another. one cookie. one shot. one moon. last glow. so many stars. none belong to you. you dont have space. its empty. no one. i want something though. call it conditioned. i want it. something. not just to fill me.. but to share with.. you know? is that still greed? am i a demon? satan laughing - or singing. or crying you never know with that satan guy, always up to no good. its called freespell for a reason.. but when i come to that part i'll let you know. i need more options. but dont we all? ghost. shit im bruising alot lately and my legs hurt. i want to go lie down. i forget what i want to ask. damn. oh yes. fireworks. i want to see fire works. i have some in my bag, nice shiney ones just for me. but i have enough to share.. its ok little boy.. you can have one too. "he really likes the lights" and no one can take them away. no one. lets hope. but ive got matches. i can make more fire, more light. more light. less night. no.. i like night. i just dont like screaming and pain and fear. i like psychic peace. when folks brains is sleeping and its only mine left. i is the only one awake so i dont catch your thoughts. you know what im talking about. you i they him write better at night. no invasions from anyone elses thoughts.. thats why i fly at nigh- thats why its alrigh- that why i smil- guy. dop bob billy bop.boom boom doing well. twelve saliva. really big bubbles with saliva. dropping out of my goofy mouth. you know? its ok. i drop like that sometimes. sometimes more than once. maybe, if your lucky, twice. just brake when you seem me in the street ok? my shoes are on this time. but their big - fermenting in smell. smell. bad like fish in boots. i like boots, but no fish - but enough of that. bruised rays of misery eh? oh god she is stupid sometimes. youve got that lost look on your face again. that damn tv is killing me. big minds dont talk. my lonely princess. its all going to hell. yeah.. accept it and try to move on but keep nasty bad face in back of my face like mirror. its all backwards so it dont count. quarters cost ten dollars in some parts. its stupid. definately some broken calculators at work there. i can write but i cant write right. like a sad tale of workers killing each other - smack goes in arm. release and smile. lay back. float. these paragraphs are broken. stairs kill. i need - sad take of bread, dont think.. it hurts. you got it made. natures a bitch - but its called tough love. blow in my hands like they play gooey mellow tones - organical and warm. im happy but cold, and there are itchy feelings about. sanctitude and solitude is icy jesuit night - smoking out under orange necrofly sky. splash and slop. murky goo and yet i venture forth for true love to find someones true love. i mean friendship. they mean couple. i mean peace. they mean peace. its all the same. just new attributes. i hope it all goes well. sandwich bags or cardboard? you never know in this day and age - milking a native name and sliding down those slippery slopes - wasting time, regenerating hope. venture forward without me but i dont mind, im helping a new set of precious lives. in my good time i help see light and with my might i can fight and win. its true - ive seen it happen. it wasnt even on tv. brain flame is going down to tom. tom dont let go. ok? ok. its good when tom holds tight and screams through bent horn. my vaginal wall is bleeding. im running away from them for sure. i promise. if only.. i will though.. in not so clear directions. i tried, and damn, im better. i just didnt ...do it.. ...for ...some... odd... reason. ? why not? why the hell didnt i? i have better things to do than recite their useless drival? no. i have more important thoughts. yes. i think, i learn, i just dont repeat the words like a fucking automaton. yes. kill me now cause i think by myself. yes. kill me now. im going down for it. fuck. them. its there faults. i tried for 5? 6 years? i did what i saw fit, what i felt was interesting. they give me experimental classes and i soar! they give me abstract knowledge? i run the shit. they give me structure, timelines, questions, examinations, essays, empty thoughts and i drop it. why? fuck. i cant do the simple things. assholes. my eyes are bleeding. im all shattered right now. my thoughts are wacky and in broken principle. best time to write if i were comfortable. fucked up sleep + darkness + cold feet + hormonal flux + fear failure = booty dont work right. fuck you too. my mind is slippery today. masturbation in the morning is always good - especially when its not in the morning. clamp hand loses to fur ass. such is slave culture right? broken backs and guys on the couch. i want to be on the couch - talking. you play.. well. SAVE WHAT YOU CAN !!! really.. just try it.. i did.. i got nothing. maybe you'll get ten cents from god or something. like blessing strangers. cart trucks - crack house - drunk ass - welfare checks - beat me wife - biker gangs - country settings - parties with dull children - juice face kids - kill them while you can - i promise it will hurt less this way. just grab them by their rat tails and tell them their favorite wrestler died. punch them in the stomach. throw hockey pucks and empty beer bottles at their parents. burn their fucking smelly ass factorys and steal their fridge. starve them out. that car that doesnt work on their driveway can be sold for parts, and in case someone hit us with an elastic, we were prepared to kill. "stop talking" "no" he looked at it. it shined through his eye, that doesnt happen often. "then tell me what your talking about and stop rambling. im gonna smack you!" "i'd just scream louder - and get off my back" the old man slid down off his back and began walking briskfully trying to keep up. he wasnt that longlegged so it didnt work much. he knew some tall birds had long legs but he didnt know how to spell their names. "why are you such a fuck?" no one asks the right questions anymore. like whens that flood coming to wipe you out? all those chemical baths arent enough. maybe im just impatient. but i doubt it. your killing me faster than any flood would kill you. if god is really really realreal, than it'll be soon.. before bum out. now wake and get a job or i'll throw you out of this metaphysical nothin' hole. you'll be on the side.. while we sing in the middle cause of your own arrogance. asshole. just you wait see, i'll call god and your going down. just wait here.. i'll leave and never come back. but you can stand there waiting for some flood and everytime it rains you be freaking out. haha! fear god not me. who's more likely to cause pain? im to tired for your arguments. just listen and shut up. men stink dont we. i think you'd better stop us before we ruin everything -cause we will. all men are potential rapists. =o] yeah right. like all snails are potential food. like all womyn are potential abortionists. like all creep is all creep. crack is for the nutty - not for you. when i think of new batterys i think of cute little nothings all soft and cozy an i put my hand out an they climb up - like rats or something. special bobalooey. dreams with black big robot bird in stars oh oh oh experiential love splitter magic in my wand ba'by! Wes'side! automaton love. jangle fuck. shmidt - thats my name too. whenever i go out the people always look the other way or turn their heads and keep their eyes on me like i cant see.. and i cant see cause i cant, but thats ok .. really it is. i dont mind - no i, i dont mind. no-oh i, i dont mind. take take take me home. star like sun. sun in sky. star in sky. like sun. emo names. fist on god. roof is leak. kill the boy. hat on head. see spot run. down down down. crosses and steaks. yum yum yum. "you smell like a cowboy, cowboy." so we all gotta go this unknowing about the knowing until we know that we should un-know, thus knowing. sparky jangle plop! salt is fun. "One more slice of bread for Jesus, one more slice of bread." "One more slice for the almighty, and his rightious ways," "One more slice of bread my brothers, one last slice of bread," "I love my bread, and I love Jesus. One more slice of bread." "Thank you sisters for that wonderful hymn! Like the song says, there is one more slice of bread.. for Jesus!.. ONE! MORE ! SLICE ! ..FOR JESUS ! Amen... This one slice for Jesus.. this next LIFE for JESUS!" "You see.. Jesus.. broke the bread of life with his deciples, and then he went to the cross for me and you.. THEN, like that slice of bread, that fluffy bread, Jesus got another LIFE! Another SLICE! Yes, lord,.. " maybe im to old. maybe im silly. maybe i suck. maybe the fear is stronger than me. maybe i cant leave. maybe their right. maybe it would be easier to give up. maybe i shouldnt go. maybe i should have a plan. im just scared. what good is a phrase that just dont work? how can we pick one that does? i cant seem to think of anything that would fit my motif of unintelligent, omnipresences in laymens terms - the not smart smart. books from the 50s got it or doteryevsky? i cant spell it.. well.. notes from underground has it so far, the wit, the nothing, the self concern over self concerning ideas. dont ignore it, understand it and flow with it, know with it - he did and look what happened. crime and punishment. i havnt read it but he must have had some good ideas - probably because he took his small things serious - as big things. it doesnt work like that i swear, by god - she saw the whole thing go down - ask him. you know.. if it gets broken? its not my fault. deep puddle flesh - tunnel o pain - fountain - well - low looking up but sinking down. post dramatic stress disorder. lying then paying for it.dont lie and you dont have to pay - dont share and its all the same. wake ups and other bad things break you, and take you far, but they leave something behind. your soul. i want to bring it with me as far as i go.
I don't think i have any idea of what will happen if they decide to stop their activities. First of all, no one will notice their absence and at the same time, no one will be able to remember what they were looking for. This is the only reason why i am gonna miss them.
I am deep
i find myself as a wall of meat...the astonishing development of a body buried in someone else's mind...the invisible request of a body that is nothing but throbbing meat
put the phone down and scurry round to the blood mouse trip trap ideaology gumflaps open hands spewing
Red approached the Deli. je had number 75 but the manin question, the Deli man said "418" "oh thats me" Red said and ordered a salami with prolonve with pickels onions and peppers and lotsa olive oil. Upstairs a bathrub filled with hot water overflowing, soaking into the wood particle floor, soon it would drop through the floor and into the deli, contaniing the corpse who would later baffle the police detcies and puzzle even further the scientist pasing and seeing the hidden secret through aeons of screaming popes. then the
I sat there watching the computer turn grey.
I decided to put a curse on George. He was an evil man. 3 x 3 to make up 9. All curses that are sent my way will be refused and not delivered. Return to sender. Curse go back! Curse go back!
MY PUSSY BLED FOR DAYS ON END. I FELT SO UNCLEAN UNTIL MY FRIEND ALICE THE GOOD SUGGESTED TAMPAX. MY PUSSY STILL ITCHES.
pLEASE RESPECT MY SILLY ARSE BOUNDARIES BECAUSE I NEED MY OEDIPAL SAPCE HONEY!
Within all beginnings lies the seed to all endings, the promise of a flower: with each death comes the promise of a new life. This is the story of in-between. It is encased inside a seething hell of Sunday sick cock spill people, bleeding the whole mass-media sponge. I shrink back. I see, but feel no pain. I expel a long, loud, sharp cry that is/is not me. This peculiar form of verbal behavior; this psycho-sexual preoccupation. This flesh net rift in melodious parabola. Gently fade out to a lake of fire and brimstone. Daemons in top hats and spats sing in barbershop quartet style: Sex and flesh hooks Sex and flesh hooks You got me in the thigh Sex and flesh hooks Sex and flesh hooks By and by, it�fs all most foul The priest leans over, deftly slices open the chest of the screaming boy, and with experienced hands reaches inside the convulsing cavity of his body and grips the still-beating heart. With a specially curved knife of intricately carved obsidian, he removes the heart and eats it. Wolfing it down, choking on the pulsing chunks, he then lifts the twitching body up over his head and throws it down the steps of the stone temple. A ghastly rag doll of meat, tumbling down into the dirt. An old and callused hand throws corn seeds into the air, then makes the motions of masturbation; the hand reaches into a soft wrinkled sack, pulls out another handful of seeds, and throws them at the ground. He makes a fist and shoves a corn seed into his hand. He opens his fist and inside is a key--Victorian-style, a skeleton key. He loops through the key a strand of leather, and ties it round his neck. Young naked attendants wrap papyrus sheets around him and masturbate upon the fibers. The fibers change to canvas, and the cord turns into a strap and buckle. The temples turn to hospitals. The adobe becomes tile. He is led to a cell and the door is locked behind him. There, in the endless soft white expanse, he mumbles to himself. The words take on form and substance, dancing before his mind�fs eye. Reaching out into time, groping, feeling its way like a vast blind worm. Breath forming sounds, sounds forming letters, letters becoming words--words that are scratched into the wall of a cell, carved onto the tops of school desks and etched into skin: �g...Like Oedipus I have seen the truth. I have sought the hidden visions and dipped my ladle into the abyss and drunk deeply. The dark secrets have revealed themselves to me. And I know now why they where hidden. To know them is to know eternity, and an endless undulating blackness...�h �gI am no innocent babe and neither are you, else you would not be here. I did not stumble upon these dark epiphanies. They did not pour themselves upon me unbidden. I willed them. I called to them in ancient tongues. I performed their rites. I sought them in the desolation of my soul. The very seed of my being sprung from these ancient, terrible blossoms. I reached out my hand, took the fruit and ate. And through these words I give that fruit to you. You, who are the concurring children, the children of war and of desolation, I give this gift to you, for my heart aches to see your violent, sensual faces.�h �gYour complicated visceral contortions have burned themselves onto my optic nerve. I have slid over the surface and smelled the stink of your flowing, youthful flesh. I have watched you grow and know that you want to consume my body. I have heard your eager whining, and know the depth and breadth of your desire. So, take your fill of this tainted meat. Stroke your flesh and chew these words that come from my mouth. A glossy, roiling river of spit. Drink it all in... bathe in it...cup it in your upturned palms and let it pour over your hot faces. I have felt your longing and heard your call. With each word I am closer to you--all of you. And thus, you are closer to one another. Rejoice and rut. Bathe in a rain of lewd kisses. Grip one another, swear eternal loyalty, and seal the pact with spunk and sweat. �gI give you the power to make it all real, and now it is. To let me back in. To live again, in you. To move through time with words and flesh crawling across your eye, moving in the contours of your spastic rhythmic gyrations. Manifested in the sweaty geometry of your coupling and born in the vapor of your mingling breath.�h �gThe things I have seen in your twisted music, through your deadly games. In the pounding of your heart and the endless rush of blood through your veins. How I long to drink from your body, to cover your white flesh with my black words.�h Oh hollow mocking idol-god face of mine, How I adore you in infinite and subtle horror. I am the Holy Most Debase and Filthy Gesture Sanctified. You are upon me and mount this throne of flesh, A panting gasping idiot choir, all titters and sly looks. Oh black god, whose endless eyes glitter, Oh grunting priests who twitch and moan, Oh angelic boys who squeal and rut, Oh infinite eternal blackness, I am in you And I am around you. I never was, And I always will have been. Holy madness and in fear, Nothingness without end. AMEN.
it took too many pushes for the tower to fall
A furtive sea lion gave oysters to judas
Steven Charbonneau knew the truth.
So something fishy was going on, it was a time loop and of course it involved Focault's Pendulum, the Anasasi, 1995, and everything else contained in the tape loop of the last expansion of conciousness beyond recognition of oneself ecxept in a previous day when as a lobotomy I said "Today I woke up without my house on and we were all lined up in the middle of the street on our beds, strapped to them literally. Large lobsters were operating on the streets inhabitants and the current doctor was removing my neighbors crimson satin pajamas, I was very happy to see this event and couldn't wait for my taste, as I was sure that after the inspection, once they noticed the abnormal hole in my skinsuit at the base of my spine I would be allowed to participate in this smorgashboard of succulent oysters. I had recently rebuilt the Atlantis Crystal Telephone as there was no sense in letting the Thule Cats dominate the Museum collection agency as they had for so long. With Fin Macool back on the scene who had to long for any relic, he simply recreated it or pulled it out of the Agarthan crevice where they had been waiting calmly this whole time. I was Mesmerized by the blue angelic fire crackers and the Cuttle Fish Goblet from Crete, it was simple really once you got past the thresholds of passion to secrete ancient history or dissolve the barriers between holographic waking and sleeping states and bring back relics in one afternoon that the Theosphists had been searching for for centuries as historical realities, digging holes all over our mothers back just to relearn how to build towers, it was rediculous, and as absurd as the new hole I had found an inch above my anus this morning only moments after finally cutting off my devil lock that had no meaning at all beyond what I had learned from the Bohemian Status Control Board, or the current petroglyph of projection that flew into the crystal clear mirror of Sophia's purple pinyata. A web of green crystals it seemed, yes; Willhelm Reich, Tesla, Raymond Royal Rife, all the thirty three or twenty three you could imagine and thats leaving out the new Luciferian towers all over Ohio pulsing in two second intervals aquatic anti matter through our delicate frontal lobes. The conclusion was simple, as the transfer of orgone flows from lesser to greater, so miniature anti-HAARP machines also known as Atlantis Crystal Telephones using the Mortal Oscillatory Rates program by Raymond Royal Rife in which he discovered that if you can find the resonance of structure and play it back upon itself with enough intensity the organism would explode or implode. For this reason we were happy to be in the numerologists nightmere of 2003 in which the inventor of the zero was now drueling with delight, for now as the fifth dimension opened like a belladona aftershave sunrise so were innumerable possibilities reclaimed by the invisible underground gnomic assasins. Yes, it would be a wonderful year I thought as I watched the blue of the snow against the Crimson pajamas being probed by the large lobster doctor and my donkey ears flopped back out, The Large Thermodynamic Space Ghost Artifact was floating ever so slowly back our of the Philidelphia port and back to Austria. Without my house on I no longer had to worry that today was also the day America ran out of blood and I was glad because I did not have a big enough band-aid to cover the whole in my memory.
The conversation had been simple enough. He was a psychic pig surveiling the surveiled mentally ill, fishing in their broken vessels for his own paranoid delight. When he saw my coptic petroglyph war scars he immediately employed the Rosicrucian method uttering "Did you hear they found Atlantis off the coast of Cuba?" "Did they get the Crystal Telephone?" I replied autonymously transparent. Then added before he could counter attack already enlightened walls of pure magma, "Oh, fuck it the Thule Society will get all the good stuff anyway." And he invited me over for dinner, so happy to have found himself again in the wreckage of the illusion he knew he was witnessing, so happy to encounter another scolarly bandit with a very cheap mask, playing vidio games in the mentally ill drop in center while unknowingly sowing the seeds for what would one day would become "THE ATLANTIS CRYSTAL TELEPHONE SERVICE"
It spun outward, in a sputter, breaking the whole way; indeed, broken by the time it had reached twelve feet. The pieces - was it porcelin originally? - fell down upon us like rain.
Duchamp fell down these stairs in a tragic slip of the tongue.
a tragic slip of the tongue. eugnot eht fo pils cigart a. need i repeat the formula for suss-sess-c-ful transplantartartions of utter cripple bastards - their skateboards used as spastic charis, the legless fuckers you mind whose affairs??

no. need not.
and where does it say that the mandible chatter of Duchamp brought not his dis-ease. his failings upon the stairs were right squarely, but poorly, layed at his feet. his tongue was planted firmly in the center of his mouth. the cheek did not play. the falling stairs failed. all stared. but Duchamp stood. Another, his crystal mouthpiece had fallen out and he had scribbled, scrawled, and bled his Atlantis Monthly subscription as a reminder to his selves, less as an offer of negotiation. i bought the lunch. he brought the hunch. a rather displeasured fellow, the sort to curse and spit. make with the noise-ance and new stance. the skateboard wheels, made to look ass, were made of clay. my 10lb watermelon, thought to be a pumpkin. pip pip. who thought we bleed?
lungs gasping for fire
o, aigre, chateau des aigles
So the Gnostic Octopus landed in the Orgone coffin in the center of town with a soft thud, bleeding profusely from the head. The eager beaver barber barked hoarsely "Did you make the 356th aeon and what did Abraxas say?" "What do you mean what did Abraxas say, there is no mouth!" The octopus spurted blood again and flopped over. The next questioner piped in eager to hear of the legendary limits, "Well is he a mouth or an asshole?" and the octopus clearly awaiting the doctors hummed, "It depends whether you are coming or going." At this the town beggar, knawing on a rotten chicken leg was visited with a beautiful image of living on a small garnet at the bottom of a large spiral of multicolored lights which were no more than the intestines of a cosmic grub worm and he scratched his ribs.
dog and lies
for one moment, i saw it. from then on, i searched for it. i can still kind of smell the water, sort of a mossy smell, which makes sense cause there was moss on the floor of the tank room. from where i stood, i could see that the tank turned around the corner to the left. so as not to slip on the moss, a crawled lowly and slowly around to the left. there in front of me was the "answer", the reason for this dream perhaps? i saw the following:
Diena netapo naktim, kol
this is blue mountains, this is red mountains, this is mountains in my head, everywhere and anywhere,there... Is a beginning of end.
however i failed to achieve a remembrance of my activities which immediately preceeded my moment of distraction, try as i might to push my mind backwards past this limit, every time i reach back just beyond the point of distraction, the distraction itself distracts me. this being said, i must argue that all signs point towards a definite progression of action, or at least that my activities themselves contained an inertia (which can still be residually detected) that suggested (or whose residue currently suggests) that my actions would have proceeded onward past the moment of distraction--perhaps even up to the present moment--and the least i can do at this point is to examine the traces of my movement (movement here understood as a generalized sort of activity, and not necessarily as literal movement) and attempt to reconstruct my life. the purpose of this careful retrieval does not lie in the activity itself, but in an obsessive and neurotic personal insistence on the need to struggle to free my life from servility to careless error, accident, and happenstance.
The big empty underwear drawer screamed in agony at the hidden mouse
The big empty underwear drawer screamed in agony at the hidden mouse
Clinics to be serviced by.
instructions for vision 3: the fire-flow of eternal unity o nobly born, listen carefully: you are flowing outward into the fluid unity of life. the ecstasy of organic fire glows in every cell. the hard, dry, brittle husks of your ego are washing out, washing out to the endless sea of creation. flow with it. feel the pulse of the sun's heart. let the red buddha amitabha sweep you along. do not fear the ectasy. do not resist the flow. remember, all the exultant power comes from within. release your attachment. recognize the wisdom of your own blood. trust the tide-force pulling you into unity with all living forms. let your burst in love with all life. let the warm blood gush out into the ocean of all life. do not be attached to the ecstatic power; it comes from you. let it flow. do not try to hold on to your old bodily fears. let your body merge with the warm flux. let your roots sink into the warm life body. merge into the heart-glow of the buddha amitabha. float in the rainbow sea. attain buddhahood in the realm named exultant love.
Knives and spoons.
The erotic conversation. BAZAGAZA BAZA GAZA!!!!
have it I wouldn't have it I wouldn't have it I wouldn't et cetera. This fact should remain clear: It was always better before, also I am not wearing sufficient pants for this occasion. Chord progression follows.
What? WHAT? WHat AGAIN? And then Again WHAT? And so back to whAT. What is the essence of WHAT? HUH, What? W-W-W-W-W-W-hhhhhhhhhhhat? What is that? What is this? What THEN? What if thee what was not in thee WHAT? What THen I SAY. And when is the what? Why is the what where the when used to be? Who. NOOOOOOOOO, He is on first. WHAT?(!!!!!!!!!!!). What are we doing? I don't know, what? What don't I know? NO. NO. NO. NO. NO. NO. NO. NO. Know. KNOW. NOW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!.
all of the glasses of water careened from the countertops onto the floor where we lay drowning all together.
...eyes have only HERD your music...but the boy came in thru the woman and, SAD, instead of HEARING, he had these eyes that look forward, and fall off when finished...but that was before we knew him...before the world finished him OFF (on again, off again, the woman became the moon and bled white tunes of light into his sockets, dry...so when he cries the earth is glad; when he dies, the earth will be his mother--every creature listening to her song, this song...)
Slowly, she circled the tiny room three times, running her fingers along the surface of the wall as she did so. The room had no door, and no windows. The walls were bare bricks, stained with age and damp. From ceiling to floor, they were covered in symbols; a secret message scratched into every brick. Perhaps this was the key to escaping, or perhaps just a conformation that there was no escape. Either way, she was too tired to care. She lay on the trolley and let her eyes close. In the dark behind them, she watched faces dance and grimace until they spun away into the shadows. Suddenly, she heard the sound of breaking glass and awoke. The room had changed while she slept: The walls had no trace of scratch-marks. Later, she put her ear against the wall and listened. After a few moments, she heard the sound of a laughter - a child's. But nothing more.

The last time I fucked my mother it felt different.
My dada died 11 years ago... Time flies when your having life...
Sorting through the mail pile we found the one letter addressed to us the sorters, that we did not wish to locate, a report listing among many other transgressions the act of failing to take notice of various official and "timely" and "very important" demands to maintain the growth of mine/your toe nails which are quite thick and yellow
I drove my pollution mobile to work today at 4 AM
My gass was sorely expensquisite
and they hate they're own suffering while the anger is smiling at me
you are my pray to playgirl.  I was the great gray hamster. let me out of the red house. 
there are shadows for sale behind the sun
My prayers are never answered in this weightless desert.My face is a diamond mirror framed with discarded pupae and resting hornets.Look over my shoulder and imagine your own place in the eye of this hurricane.Mix yor potions from the exotic leaves of my unconscious.There are no nightlights to comfort my various halflings.Just the hollow glow from the eyes of lost love.Pour your soul over me vinegar nectar passionfruit iodine.I grow drunk on the scent of your faded flower.I sleep in your persian snowdrift dream.My nightmares become your everyday trials.Awoken suddenly i scan these empty jarring miles and ponder.My scalp is loose and sprouting spider silk my skin is toadstool smooth and my eyes are hers.I bid you all a fond goodnight.
et alors le monde tombe, catastrophe au coin d«une rue, elle a lieu sans s«en appercevoir, that would be a story about
giant monsters with no souls formed
As a mental aardvark, it behoves me to remind everyone that Bogart was Three lemons.
one half of a mellon festival indeed
the goat's testicular generation envigoured the pope. his membrane swollen flaps of gauze tobacco dew skin flayed & wailed upon the victorious emissions withering from his rectum. melons melons melons, sho' do like um y'all here pissed the pope from his drum coverded foreskin replicating odometer. his cute southern drawl weeped stagnant wounds of pustuilecence upon the waiting faithful, penis gourd numero uno. pero por que ustedes cree esto manoso quien sabes su huevos grite por todo que dios llure, senor dice el cabra quando el comer las senas de una infermera. F-U-C-K... FEED THE POPE
Then the gutwrenching sound of breaking fingers... a painstricken moan a dull crack a scream... Torture had never been this graphic, never so upclose, it certainly revived the wish to never have left Detroit in the first place. Maybe this new device would help?
i feel YOUr corpse inside me and am still.... knowing that i am god as i have once been told to so do. eat drink and be merry for tommorow we die. tommorow we die
know this and not mee My fingers are forever with you and the more you run the more I hide. in shadowy fields of smoke and roses my seagull is forever your friend and mine but what now my friends prevents us from loving? you will know this but never me and you shall mine heart never feel, its a sad dAy in heaven.
...jesus... ...in the middle of all of this filth... ...in the midst of the wreckage... ...putting things back together... ...you never listen to reason...
Carmen met Felix down by the octagon. If only he had smelled the leather. He had only sat on it.
suddenly, he died.
But resurrection isn't only a story told. Even a seed must die before it can be planted and reborn. Suddenly? It's all true. All of it is true. The voices said to him an many occasions, it may be dark outside but at least it doesn't hurt as much. Believing himself disturbed he gladly submitted to the sacrilege. Besides, resurrection isn't only a story told. Even a seed must die before it can be planted and reborn. Suddenly? It's all true. All of it is true. The voices said to him an many occasions, it may be dark outside but at least it doesn't hurt as much. Believing himself disturbed he gladly submitted to the carnage. Besides, resurrection isn't only a story told. Even a seed must die before it can be planted and reborn. Suddenly? It's all true. All of it is true. The voices said to him an many occasions, it may be dark outside but at least it doesn't hurt as much. Believing himself disturbed he gladly submitted to the nothingness. Besides, it may be dark outside but at least it doesn't hurt as much.
mad doctors scapel lays sincere
....doctors
............scapel
..................lays
.......................sincere
But one day, some witnesses saw a statue of the Virgin that was alive and condemned them to hell. One of the people, terrorized, hit her with an iron bar. Before dying, she baptizes him with leper
the insertion of an iron plate without anesthesia, can produce an erection and a reflux of ejaculation, that may be swallowed by jesus christ
Without a stencil and covered in air
Booga BaGooga BaGary Templeton Boo Crack n Flap n Crack n Flap n Gofee Tal n den jush take itashit cums toble for best tension in gravel down three but only the left will tap again
Suddenly,t he blind man leapt over th e car and landed in the fluttering zone.
Suddenly,the blind man leapt over th e car and landed in the fluttering zone.
When the veil was lifted I experienced an ecstatic revelation, which later and fuller understanding could never recreate. I knew then, as I do now, that I had discovered something truly worthy of my attention. This would evolve with me. I had found my calling; all else be damned. This was true art.
A dozen winters of loneliness
The lonely distant distance. To take some distance. Or not to.
I locked myself out of my appartment
And one day, someone started to climb the mountain Your time is Mine, h e said.
EN-OH-EYE-ESS-ESS-I-UU
NOISSIW
MISSION
Nigel squawked defensively as he watched the vultures circling overhead. Not what he'd expected when he walked into the bathroom but he supposed that it was a welcome change from the rabid tax collectors chanting "Rikki Tikki Taaarg" over and over again in the dining room. The atmosphere down there was sexually charged and he didnt fancy getting left with tthat donkey...........no sirree. not like last time. he shuddered and unwrapped another sherbert lemon. he had to remember that he still had the hollowed out head of that old woman in his rucksack. he 'd decided to himself that it would make a wonderful lampshade. Meanwhile the vultures had stopped circling and were discussing amongst themselves the likelihood of it raining that afternoon.
Batman told Robin to put back on his clothes and watch out for that firebird.
She had eight legs. One for each day she would wake up only to slip in the wine of her own boredom. None of them were functional, and so they just hang there, flopping, rotting away while she would observe little flies nest in the sores and cracks of her dying flesh. Often, at the late hours, she sat with a distant look, peeling the skin off her dogs, and howled with a moan that was the very essence of perpetual re-runs of very bad indian movies. The stench was sometimes too much, so she would punp her veins full of every sort of intravenous release she could find. Stupid as she was, she couldn't figure out how to do it properly and merely injected the drugs between her skin and flesh, causing large bubbles to build up and lastly explode when she would scratch at them. She had four children, all had died at the tender age of thirteen from excessive fumes and cosmic who-knows-what. She hadn't wept for them, but she kept them in her bed where she would fondle their remains and threatened to eat alive, any man who would take them away from her. The blood constantly secreting from her cunt grew ever thicker, which served to delight her greatly, for she knew nothing better then to scrape off large clusters of gore that had attached themselves to one of her many thighs. Little did she know that she would one day rule the world. For now, she was only happy that there were no laws preventing her from eating her own shit.
Turning over the grey and rusty red rock, Tyler found a mirror. Though the face starreing back from the mirror was that of a young girl with no eyes. Turning over his grey and rusty red brain he asked the question of how a girl with no eyes could see! Well it was quite the impossible question to answer. Though who cares about questions when one notices that ones body is covered by an exoskeleton he thought next, imediately after looking at his outsretched legs.
with blind and yellow arms which hing there in rainy sheets.
steven pile clay/tone however, had other ideas. firstly, she was to be fashioned to a device behind a tree, and, failing that.....
But Genesis did not like their abuse of his fate, so he delivered twelve golden sandals to Hecate for placement in a bowl. Upon this she screeched as a robot in an purple acidic pool, melting into mere psyche and flesh. On a New York streetway the telivision screams "THE BOTTLE IS BROKEN!" while Trump falls to his death, who promptly loses his mind in a basket on the Rhine.
She sat on a pale white rock, cradling her legs underneath. Her hands were cut off at the wrist and the blood seemed to flow endlessly on. In the final moments before she died she told me of a land where none were hungry. Then she died and for long, hard hours I dined on her corpse until only the bones were left.
praise to cannibal sex.reload on murder. forget about japanese geek singer.all taboos now too sucker.You'LL be my favorite slut;I want you.

so what the hell is Stephen's hell and whatever be hell ,i am sure that i am watching top-incest sites right now so be it a wonderous hell,indeed no home,a wanderous hell
The Wound was made on the GOAT..THE WOUND WAS MADE ON THE GOAT with heated up sciccors. "that will be the branding" The man with the top hat said. "This goat now represents all the Exquisite corpses that the Ancient Gods began for us all, that is, a cold spring day or a warm summer breeze, or any one who find the sky incomphrehesnibel" "Like chicken little being hit with an acorn stating thesky is falling and causing pan ick to take over the FARM?" giggled the blue monkey. Revealing hidden truths is what this animal is all about.
vultures circling overhead. Not what he'd expected when he walked into the bathroom but he supposed that it was a welcome change from the rabid tax collectors chanting "Rikki Tikki Taaarg" over and over again in the dining room. The atmosphere down there was sexually charged and he didnt fancy getting left with tthat donkey...........no sirree. not like last time. he shuddered and unwrapped another sherbert lemon. he had to remember that he still had the hollowed out head of that old woman in his rucksack. he 'd decided to himself that it would make a wonderful lampshade. Meanwhile the vultures had stopped circling and were discussing amongst themselves the likelihood of it raining that afternoon. Batman told Robin to put back on his clothes and watch out for that firebird. She had eight legs. One for each day she would wake up only to slip in the wine of her own boredom. None of them were functional, and so they just hang there, flopping, rotting away while she would observe little flies nest in the sores and cracks of her dying flesh. Often, at the late hours, she sat with a distant look, peeling the skin off her dogs, and howled with a moan that was the very essence of perpetual re-runs of very bad indian movies. The stench was sometimes too much, so she would punp her veins full of every sort of intravenous release she could find. Stupid as she was, she couldn't figure out how to do it properly and merely injected the drugs between her skin and flesh, causing large bubbles to build up and lastly explode when she would scratch at them. She had four children, all had died at the tender age of thirteen from excessive fumes and cosmic who-knows-what. She hadn't wept for them, but she kept them in her bed where she would fondle their remains and threatened to eat alive, any man who would take them away from her. The blood constantly secreting from her cunt grew ever thicker, which served to delight her greatly, for she knew nothing better then to scrape off large clusters of gore that had attached themselves to one of her many thighs. Little did she know that she would one day rule the world. For now, she was only happy that there were no laws preventing her from eating her own shit. Turning over the grey and rusty red rock, Tyler found a mirror. Though the face starreing back from the mirror was that of a young girl with no eyes. Turning over his grey and rusty red brain he asked the question of how a girl with no eyes could see! Well it was quite the impossible question to answer. Though who cares about questions when one notices that ones body is covered by an exoskeleton he thought next, imediately after looking at his outsretched legs. with blind and yellow arms which hing there in rainy sheets. steven pile clay/tone however, had other ideas. firstly, she was to be fashioned to a device behind a tree, and, failing that..... But Genesis did not like their abuse of his fate, so he delivered twelve golden sandals to Hecate for placement in a bowl. Upon this she screeched as a robot in an purple acidic pool, melting into mere psyche and flesh. On a New York streetway the telivision screams "THE BOTTLE IS BROKEN!" while Trump falls to his death, who promptly loses his mind in a basket on the Rhine. She sat on a pale white rock, cradling her legs underneath. Her hands were cut off at the wrist and the blood seemed to flow endlessly on. In the final moments before she died she told me of a land where none were hungry. Then she died and for long, hard hours I dined on her corpse until only the bones were left. praise to cannibal sex.reload on murder. forget about japanese geek singer.all taboos now too sucker.You'LL be my favorite slut;I want you. so what the hell is Stephen's hell and whatever be hell ,i am sure that i am watching top-incest sites right now so be it a wonderous hell,indeed no home,a wanderous hell The Wound was made on the GOAT..THE WOUND WAS MADE ON THE GOAT with heated up sciccors. "that will be the branding" The man with the top hat said. "This goat now represents all the Exquisite corpses that the Ancient Gods began for us all, that is, a cold spring day or a warm summer breeze, or any one who find the sky incomphrehesnibel" "Like chicken little being hit with an acorn stating thesky is falling and causing pan ick to take over the FARM?" giggled the blue monkey. Revealing hidden truths is what this animal is all about. The second way beliefs cause stress is when they are in conflict with those of other people. One of my patients had a fight with his son because the child wore the same clothes several days in a row. I asked why it bothered him and he replied, "Because you should change your clothes every day." I asked him where this idea originated: "Well, my mother taught me that. Everyone knows you should change your clothes every day." I told him that this was not "the truth," but merely his opinion based on the way he was raised. I said I had lived in cultures where people did not change clothes often and nothing bad happened to them. I helped him see that this was a premise he held but one which was not shared by his son. The argument was not over the clothes themselves but merely about a difference of opinion. Once he recognized his belief was not "true," his anger diminished. . In the final moments before she died she told me of a land where none were hungry. Then she died and for long, hard hours I dined on her corpse until only the bones were left. praise to cannibal sex.reload on murder. forget about japanese geek singer.all taboos now too sucker.You'LL be my favorite slut;I want you. so what the hell is Stephen's hell and whatever be hell ,i am sure that i am watching top-incest sites right now so be it a wonderous hell,indeed no home,a wanderous hell The Wound was made on the GOAT..THE WOUND WAS MADE ON THE GOAT with heated up sciccors. "that will be the branding" The man with the top hat said. "This goat now represents all the Exquisite corpses that the Ancient Gods began for us all, that is, a cold spring day or a warm summer breeze, or any one who find the sky incomphrehesnibel" "Like chicken little being hit with an acorn stating thesky is falling and causing pan ick to take over the FARM?" giggled the blue monkey. Revealing hidden truths is what this animal is all about. the mirror was that of a young girl with no eyes. Turning over his grey and rusty red brain he asked the question of how a girl with no eyes could see! Well it was quite the impossible question to answer. Though who cares about questions when one notices that ones body is covered by an exoskeleton he thought next, imediately after looking at his outsretched legs. with blind and yellow arms which hing there in rainy sheets. steven pile clay/tone however, had other ideas. firstly, she was to be fashioned to a device behind a tree, and, failing that..... But Genesis did not like their abuse of his fate, so he delivered twelve golden sandals to Hecate for placement in a bowl. Upon this she screeched as a robot in an purple acidic pool, melting into mere psyche and flesh. On a New York streetway the telivision screams "THE BOTTLE IS BROKEN!" while Trump falls to his death, who promptly loses his mind in a basket on the Rhine. She sat on a pale white rock, cradling her legs underneath. Her hands were cut off at the wrist and the blood seemed to flow endlessly was sometimes too much, so she would punp her veins full of every sort of intravenous release she could find. Stupid as she was, she couldn't figure out how to do it properly and merely injected the drugs between her skin and flesh, causing large bubbles to build up and lastly explode when she would scratch at them. She had four children, all had died at the tender age of thirteen from excessive fumes and cosmic who-knows-what. She hadn't wept for them, but she kept them in her bed where she would fondle their remains and threatened to eat alive, any man who would take them away from her. The blood constantly secreting from her cunt grew ever thicker, which served to delight her greatly, for she knew nothing better then to scrape off large clusters of gore that had attached themselves to one of her many thighs. Little did she know that she would one day rule the world. For now, she was only happy that there were no laws preventing her from eating her own shit. Turning over the grey and rusty red rock, Tyler found a mirror. Though the face starreing back from raised. I it would make said I had a wonderful lampshade. lived in cultures Meanwhile the vultures where people did had stopped circling not change clothes and were discussing often and nothing amongst themselves the bad happened to likelihood of it them. I helped raining that afternoon. him see that Batman told Robin this was a to put back premise he held on his clothes but one which and watch out was not shared for that firebird. by his son. She had eight The argument was legs. One for not over the each day she clothes themselves but would wake up merely about a only to slip difference of opinion. in the wine Once he recognized of her own his belief was boredom. None of not "true," his them were functional, anger diminished. and so they just hang there, flopping, rotting away while she would observe little flies nest in the sores and cracks of her dying flesh. Often, at the late hours, she sat with a distant look, peeling the skin off her dogs, and howled with a moan that was the very essence of perpetual re-runs of very bad indian movies. The stench Nigel squawked defensively The second way as he watched beliefs cause stress the vultures circling is when they overhead. Not what are in conflict he'd expected when with those of he walked into other people. One the bathroom but of my patients he supposed that had a fight it was a with his son welcome change from because the child the rabid tax wore the same collectors chanting "Rikki clothes several days Tikki Taaarg" over in a row. and over again I asked why in the dining it bothered him room. The atmosphere and he replied, down there was "Because you should sexually charged and change your clothes he didnt fancy every day." I getting left with asked him where tthat donkey...........no sirree. this idea originated: not like last "Well, my mother time. he shuddered taught me that. and unwrapped another Everyone knows you sherbert lemon. he should change your had to remember clothes every day." that he still I told him had the hollowed that this was out head of not "the truth," that old woman but merely his in his rucksack. opinion based on he 'd decided the way he to himself that was
erp erp erp gurgledy gurgledeee
Every where... well, thats ALLL!: Everywhere... a sky. and the red ant that bite my mortal flesh... well well ALL ALL ALL ALL, can be: LLA LLA LLA LLA... sing with me!!!: LLA LLA LLA LLA LLA LLA LLA LLA LLA... this little moment in this great and mystic eternity that I now, but I can live... well, not in this mortal flesh... that this ant bite... JA JA JA JA JA JA JA JA JA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
u are stupid and a dirty donkapotamus
so i sat down. reading could'nt help me at this moment. i was alone at the time. still, there were several thing i could do, but why then didn't i start doing them. there must have gone something wrong somewhere. i think the problem was initiatif. i had heard much about it, but i didn't know the meaning of it. still seated, i was wondering if anyone might help. of course, i became immediatly aware of the absurdity of such a thought. why would i be facing the problem of initiatif, if others don't know this problem. the thought that everyone was being quiet frightened me. perhaps something hád occured. this i could not understand.
"i think i broke it" I said, replying to you across the room on your bed with the other two, the twisted hanger trembling within my hands.
TherE wAS a TImE, whEn AlL thE PEOpLe diED aT OncE...aNd It waS GoOD. buT NOw...wE arE AlL HERe...whErE WiLl WE gO?
When's Chapter 6 going to arrive? Are we on? I'm eagerly awaiting the publication of The Exquisite Corpse!!!!!!!11111
Just...just let me sit on this throne and quetly whip myself to sleep. Empires can come and go and the sea can weep it's endless song into my ears but I care not. Piled all around me are huge bundless of seemingly lifeless reptiles, their tongues cut out and their eyes hanging a few inches from their sockets. Cemented into the walls are little children, all born without skin. The scratching from their tiny fingers upon the cold, hard walls serves as my lullaby. Outside the world is in disarray. It's raining and people fall impaled on the petrified cocks of roman dictators and travelguides. Everything is rotting, including myself, so I sit with a knife made of sharks teeth and scrape the layers of flesh gone earth off my ribs. My thone is dog's hairs and sheeps spit. I lie entangled in a neatly woven gallow, while outside humanity seems to grow ever more dim, and the products are taking over.
it was a cloudy day, almost a deadly one, trying to get some soul and breathing to dream whatever they could say it is not worth automatic people see around to discover how dead they are by the way, who cares?
And when he realised where he was, he couldn't help but think of killing her.
We burn your flag, We keeps ours flying. The wine tasted better.
I sat wondering what they'd do to me if they came back to haunt. And as i gasped for air i could see the darkside slowy moving in on me. Thinking back to my previous life of hatred and confusion all around. I wondered if the demons who come to take me will forgive me for fisting that virgin princess. I don't fucking know do i?
and there was no light at all
There, in the face of uncertain destruction, a man appeared from a plume of plum-coloured smoke. In one hand, a gun, pointed directly at the onlooker's head, in the other a little stuffed plush monkey in a Coil t-shirt. A short moment passed, to the astonishment of all in the room, considering they had just been babbling and chattering like there had been no tomorrow. Finally, the man began to speak: "I have been sent", he said, "I have been sent to make way. There are too many people, they will not let me sleep. Their thoughts, they ring through my head. I must make a path for my own thoughts. I must do that or there will be no cure." Panic spread slowly through all present limbs and minds. Surely this was one of those homicidal maniacs that one read about so much in the papers nowadays, perhaps even, yes perhaps even one of the fabled terrorists. Although, the man did not look like an arab and surely there were no non-arabs that were terrorists. Salvation came, as always from a little blond girl. "Ah fink", she said, "ah fink munkee is tired." And with that she reached forward and patted the monkey on its head. This was all that was needed. Cthullhu returned and ate the cheese-monger.
Sound and elusive. Neighing and caring not. I did, but never told anyone. I would miss her when she was gone. As a diversion, I would let large rocks fall unto my feet. Evenings. Then none. Great of size, sleak. And then the hit, and I missed. I missed her.
I didn't even acknowledge the nectar and chunks of pulp that clung to my cheek. I continued to eat the rotten, fermented apple and maintained eye contact with the whore. I knew that the people around me expected me to wipe my cheek, or blink an eye or smirk, or scream, for the whore's mouth was dripping blood, and the sailors, like vultures, were clapping and shreiking, and the whore's poor old mother was crying out to please, just put the girl to death and end this insanity...
Everything Americans touch turns to pure shit
shrouded weakly like knees in coloured jelly............................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................RUSTIC!
chocolate? how could it be? i could never understand what was happening in my life....the chocolate would not cease to be...
><
"Ah, there you see!" said the guy triumphantly. "What?" - "Slippers! Thousands of them! Do you really not see them ?". I didn't and when I squinted to try, some sort of black gelatinous liqiud would float out from my open scalp. He waved maniacaly with his greyish hand through the air. "They're everywhere! Go on, try one... they're tasty!". Then he fell to the ground with heavy convulsions. Naturally, I kicked the living shit out of him. Now was my chance. I had not walked through oceans of lemonade just to be tickled by some legless son of a strap-on. I filled my shoes with his guts and they provided a surprisingly pleasent padding. The sound made me deaf, but I had already lost most of it back in the cave. I had tried to sow my ears back on, but tiny, gloved hands would keep slapping me over the fingers, so I decided to just let my ears hang like they did. I wiped my eyes clean of ooze and went on. I could feel the dank slippers below me feet and the smell of old fries and sweat was horrendous, to say the least, but I kept on pushing. Now that my retarded fellowship was either all vanished, dead and/or devoured I could go on as I always had. Axe in hand and blood in mouth.
a chance meating ov a toothpaste cap on a toilet brush
reverse hidden england
passing adapted text. blind, however, without passing game same submit it. which idea surrealist many hidden truths in cut-ups.
i will have another toke
fuck
me
daddy!
Rocco was a total nightmare scene.
SHIT, GODDAM GET OFF YOUR ASS AND JAM!!!
OU-WAT-A-DAY IS DEAD....
ARE YOU QUSAYING THAT HE IS DEAD? YES...
GOOD
WHAT A DAY
WHAT ABOUT HIS KIDLET?
JEW NO WAT INE SAYIN?
WHO CARE'S? NO-BODY(S)? I NEED PROOF. BLOODY PICTURES TO PROVE IT (07/23/03)
DEAD BOY'S FOR DEAD PEOPLE
WAT AN EXQUISITE SET OV CORPSE IF SORTS...
Meanwhile, the buzzing sound in my head gradually grew louder. After a while, it sounded more like a hum than a buzz. Then it became more like listening to a LaMonte Young album playing at the wrong speed and pressed slightly off-center while whacked out of my brain on cough syrup. I felt something trickling from my ear. At first, I thought it was blood. I brushed my pinkie along the bottom of my ear and looked at it. It wasn't blood, it was just holy water. How it got into my head, I have no idea. Well, I thought to myself, I have felt worse. I just wished all of this wasn't happening the night before my final exams.
He pulled his long flat black hair up and told us, "I slept with her last night." "you didn't take her virginity did you..?" "yeah, it was one o'clock, right as the sun was coming up"
erp oip oip erg, he said.
and then. some. nun.
"Mr. Harper? Mr. Harper?...Can you open your eyes?" "Uuuuuuuhhh...where am I?" "You're in the hospital. You've been in a coma." "What year is it?" "1903." "Who's the president?" "Alexandro Jodorowsky." "Oh." "Mr. Harper?" "OOOOOOOOOMMMMMMMMMMMMM....."
"I AM A TURRET." "WELL, WHO ISN'T?"
No, I'll tell you what really happened. Just whatever you do, don't say that this proves I'm crazy.
I haven't started yet.Stop laughing.
"Take it off," he said. "I'm not ready for this stuff. How about a daffodil?" He gesticulated, bending low, jacket in hand. Steam rose from the night grass. A caterpillar inched slowly, carefully up the wall. The Khyber Rifles!
So along came the spider, and sat down beside her, and tried to get into her bowl.But Alive wouldn't let it in. She kept flicking it away, but it kept coming back. Soon Alice noticed that the spider looked bigger. But she kept flicking it away. She would not kill it because she believed all life was sacred.And the spider got bigger and bigger. And its fangs grew longer & longer. Soon Alive began to get scared. She tried to move away from the spider, but she couldn't. She was stuck in that spot. She didn't know why. And the spider was now as big as her hand. There wasn't a chance that she could have killed it now, even if she did so desire.And it kept coming, and Alice kept shooing it away. Soon the spider was so big that Alice was having to push it away with both hands, and even that wasn't doing much.Suddenly a flash of light was seen in the background.Alice was getting overpowered by the spider by now. She wondered what the light was & hoped it would save her.Unfortunately for her, it didn't. The spider was pissed off & ate her & her soup. The werewolf I was trying to work in never came. So off went the spider to terrorise some more denizens...
i then took the chain, which had previously been around her neck (so as to strangle) and swung. swung the chain at every girl who had ever made me want to kill all women, at every policeman who had ever pulled me over, at every frat boy who date raped some dumb bitch who sucks anyway, every singer in an emo/metalcore band who screams sometimes, every weepy intellectual who discussed
all of our dreams our strivings our creation, is but a burden for the children
The children who were perhaps ourselves also? Was this our end? The apish infants stared in our direction. However, they were unable to make out our ridiculous shapes amidst the thick clouds of smog. This was in his shed. Is this your shed? We smashed the glass at that place and grinned and picked and scratched. This was the happiest time that any insect had ever had. The owner of the shed approached. He wore an eye offending scarf. "Yuiwerrrrrrrr grottttiw!" "Meet me for thirty nine pounds devotchka!" "Stop it! Stop it! Now I have to start over again!" A high sound rang in my ears.
¡™£¢?¶•ªº–!=§ÅÎŒ´¨Ø˜ÚÍ?ÅÍÎŒ†´¨ˆ®Ø†¨Ø???ǘ?ÓÏ

WHEN I WOKE NEXT, I COULD HEAR THE SOUNDS OF POUNDING MACHINERY FAR BELOW THE EARTH'S CRUST I TRIED IN VAIN TO MOVE MY HEAD. NEEDLES OF PAIN SHOT THRU THE BASE OF MY SKULL, AND DARKNESS TOOK ME. ................................................................................................................. WAKING UP AGAIN... THIS TIME BEING CAREFUL NOT TO MOVE. THE MACHINERY HAS GROWN LOUDER. WHERE HAVE I BEEN? WHAT HAVE I SEEN? What have i done. JESUS. Who am i? I feel as if my mind has been Inhabbited by thousands of various deranged entities plagued by thousands of various intoxicants. Did i dream all that stuff about goldfish and sharks and time machines and catholic school girls and jellyfish and mechanical frogs and bellydancers and spores and blood? The blood. so much blood. Opening my eyes helps little to dispell the plasma phantoms dancing on the surface of my vision. The machinery has quelled a bit now, and i realize it isn't underground at all, it is the pounding of my own heart. My vision is starting to return. i see a soft light. I notice i am dressed in white. Blood-stained linen. Who's blood, i am not sure. I feel no pain, only numbness. There was something else in my dream. (god, were they dreams?) What was it? A place. Ruins of some ancient temple? A familiar place......much like the place i am now in. A wave of panic engulfs me as i realize i am not alone. There is a figure standing over me, studying me. I open my mouth to scream, but no sound escapes. Terrified, i stare back into the eyes behind the spectacles. But there are no eyes. Only my own reflection. To my horror, i realize it is the reflection of a wounded nurse.
it' s seemed crazy, children driven to reality by the backhand of power compassion were spots on the road and heaven... was anybody listening?
THEY KEPT KILLING EACH OTHER. WHY? IS THE WORLD AS SAD AS IT SEEMS? KILL YOURSELF...
I REFUSE TO WORK FOR YOUR SLAVE WAGES ASSHOLES! GET THE FUCK OUT OV OUR LIVES FORTUNE 500-1000 COMPANIES AND TAKE YOUR PRE-EMPLYMENT DRUG TESTING WITH YOU FUCKERS!!! DIE WHEN YOU DIE...
And then the carousel spun out of control.
When I was 5, my parents took me to hell. They said they had to work, but I knew the truth. I had seen what modern medicine had done to all my childhood friends. The doctors allowed me to see them one last time. They were all naked, strapped down, pale and ghoulishly thin. The entire spectacle was so beautyful that I had to cry. All of them, in line, with crushed faces and small puddles of blood building beneath their ever-whitening skin. I spent some time there, and then left them to their fate. "Mom, dad...we can go now".
Understanably, the evening was a disaster...what would have made it more interesting was a humble apology, a kind word, or some other soothing gesture to diminish the madness. That was too much to expect. Instead, I was met with cheerfulness and charm amidst my utter dispair. Music at home, and some wonderful reading, again saved my aching brain...
Beyond the tidal desert shallows he found his child Neme Neme Hlafdigger Beta Null Hatch lebe Paet Meu His mind sown like doll and his trumpet gleamed flaming the file cabinet burns in the desert here in Clockwork Herebay another ice age ends daylight returns I am alive again
Fastill he muzzle in blast torn music maker Sonseabrennen heart men man horou
then my dear friends you drag your cock up and down before colouring in the mess you;ve made.
there was a loud BANG!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!.douglas entered, he had read "the book",he throw the runes at steven catching him in the eyes ,how boyd laughed ha ha ha .
CHAKA KHAN!
O Canada! Our home and native land! True patriot love in all thy sons command. With glowing hearts we see thee rise, The True North strong and free! From far and wide, O Canada, we stand on guard for thee. God keep our land glorious and free! O Canada, we stand on guard for thee. O Canada, we stand on guard for thee.
. Unbreakable Union of freeborn Republics, Great Russia has welded forever to stand. Created in struggle by will of the people, United and mighty, our Soviet land! Sing to the Motherland, home of the free, Bulwark of peoples in brotherhood strong. O Party of Lenin, the strength of the people, To Communism's triumph lead us on! Through tempests the sunrays of freedom have cheered us, Along the new path where great Lenin did lead. To a righteous cause he raised up the peoples, Inspired them to labor and valorous deed. [Or, the original way: Be true to the people, thus Stalin has reared us, Inspire us to labor and valorous deed!] Sing to the Motherland, home of the free, Bulwark of peoples in brotherhood strong. O Party of Lenin, the strength of the people, To Communism's triumph lead us on! In the vict'ry of Communism's deathless ideal, We see the future of our dear land. And to her fluttering scarlet banner, Selflessly true we always shall stand! .
. Hey Lucy, I'm home! Oh Ricky you're so fine You're so fine you blow my mind Hey Ricky! Hey Ricky! Oh Lucy you're so fine You're so fine you blow my mind. Hey Lucy! Hey Lucy! Oh Ricky you're so fine You play your bongos all the time. Hey Ricky! Hey Ricky! Oh Lucy you're so fine How I love to hear you whine. Hey Lucy! Hey Ricky! You always play your conga drums. You think you got the right. You wake up little Ricky In the middle of the night. Stop shakin' your maracas now And just turn out the light Ricky! I'm sick of Fred and Ethel Always comin' over here 'Cause Fred eats all our pretzel sticks And then he spills his beer. Why don't you serve your casserole And make them disappear, Lucy? Oh Ricky What's a girl like me supposed to do? You really drive me wild When you sing your Ba-ba-lu. Oh Lucy You're so dizzy Don't you have a clue? Well here's to you Lucy! I love you too, Lucy, too, Lucy. Let's Ba-ba-lu, Lucy. Hey Ricky! You're always playin' at the club You never let me go. I'm beggin' and I'm pleadin' But you always tell me no. Oh please honey please. Let me be in your show Ricky! Waaa... You always burn the roast And you drop the dishes too. You iron my new shirt And you burn a hole right through. You're such a crazy redhead I just don't know what to do Lucy! Oh Ricky What a pity don't you understand That every day's a rerun And the laughter's always canned. Oh Lucy I'm the Latin leader of the band. So here's to you Lucy Let's Babalu Lucy, too Lucy... Everybody rumba! . .
Dreamed I was an Eskimo Frozen wind began to blow Under my boots and around my toes The frost that bit the ground below It was a hundred degrees below zero... And my mama cried And my mama cried Nanook, a-no-no Nanook, a-no-no Don't be a naughty Eskimo Save your money, don't go to the show Well I turned around and I said "Oh, oh" Oh Well I turned around and I said "Oh, oh" Oh Well I turned around and I said "Ho, Ho" And the northern lights commenced to glow And she said, with a tear in her eye "Watch out where the huskies go, and don't you eat that yellow snow" "Watch out where the huskies go, and don't you eat that yellow snow"
When the moon is in the Seventh House And Jupiter aligns with Mars Then peace will guide the planets And love will steer the stars This is the dawning of the Age of Aquarius The Age of Aquarius Aquarius! Aquarius! Harmony and understanding Sympathy and trust abounding No more falsehoods or derisions Golden living dreams of visions Mystic crystal revelation And the mind's true liberation Aquarius! Aquarius! When the moon is in the Seventh House And Jupiter aligns with Mars Then peace will guide the planets And love will steer the stars This is the dawning of the Age of Aquarius The Age of Aquarius Aquarius! Aquarius! Harmony and understanding Sympathy and trust abounding No more falsehoods or derisions Golden living dreams of visions Mystic crystal revelation And the mind's true liberation Aquarius! Aquarius!
Well I don't care about history Rock, rock, rock'n'roll high school 'Cause that's not where I wanna be Rock, rock, rock'n'roll high school I just wanna have some kicks I just wanna get some chicks Rock, rock, rock, rock, rock'n'roll high school Well the girls out there knock me out, you know Rock, rock, rock'n'roll high school Cruisin' around in my GTO Rock, rock, rock'n'roll high school I hate the teachers and the principal Don't wanna be taught to be no fool Rock, rock, rock, rock, rock'n'roll high school Fun fun rock'n'roll high school Fun fun rock'n'roll high school Fun fun rock'n'roll high school Fun fun, oh baby
Hot dogs, Ar-mour Hot Dogs --What kind of kids love Ar-mour Hot Dogs? -- Big kids, lit-tle kids, kids who climb on rocks fat kids, skin-ny kids, ev-en kids with chicken pox love hot dogs, Ar-mour Hot Dogs The dogs kids love to bite! Oh I wish I were an Oscar Meyer Wiener, That is what I truly long to be-ee-ee, 'Cause if I were an Oscar Meyer Wiener, Everyone would be in love with me!
Let me take you down To testify Under the brow of a sparkling sky We'll dance away A distant day And shout our sins In a passion play Over we go Diving for pearls Over we go From the edge of the World Let the fire fall in The footsteps we leave Painted on the ground We'll watch the stars Come crashing down Upon our heads Like a madding crown Over we go Diving for pearls Over we go From the edge of the World Let me take you down To testify Under the brow of a sparkling sky We'll dance away 'Til the day is done Then rise again To unwrap the Sun Over we go Diving for pearls Over we go From the edge of the World This is the song from the edge of the World
When Bill joined Quantum Color as CEO in 1995, he brought along 20 years of financial and administrative management experience. A CPA with an MBA from the University of Chicago, Bill worked in "Big 6" public accounting for ten years. He then undertook a twelve-year gig with R.R. Donnelley & Sons Company. As Corporate Controller for the "world's largest printer," he was introduced to the excitement of the graphic arts. "I got caught up in the quest for the perfect dot," he notes.
i turn into a teenage goo goo muck, i cruise through the city and i roam street looking for something that is nice to eat you better duck when i show up.. the goo goo muck. i'm the night headhunter looking for some head well the way a body underneath that head, well I'll get you baby with a little luck cuz i'm teenage tiger and a goo goo muck you better duck when i show up the goo goo muck the city is a jungle and i'm a beast i'm a teenage tiger looking for a feast, i want the most but i'll take the least, cuz i'm a goo goo muck tiger and a teenage beast you better duck when i show up the goo goo muck well goo goo muck
i turn into a teenage goo goo muck, i cruise through the city and i roam street looking for something that is nice to eat you better duck when i show up.. the goo goo muck. i'm the night headhunter looking for some head well the way a body underneath that head, well I'll get you baby with a little luck cuz i'm teenage tiger and a goo goo muck you better duck when i show up the goo goo muck the city is a jungle and i'm a beast i'm a teenage tiger looking for a feast, i want the most but i'll take the least, cuz i'm a goo goo muck tiger and a teenage beast you better duck when i show up the goo goo muck well goo goo muck
Dark in the city, night is a wire Steam in the subway, earth is a fire Do do do do do do do dodo dododo dodo Woman, you want me, give me a sign And catch my breathing even closer behind Do do do do do do do dodo dododo dodo In touch with the ground I'm on the hunt I'm after you Smell like I sound, I'm lost in a crowd And I'm hungry like the wolf Straddle the line in discord and rhyme I'm on the hunt I'm after you Mouth is alive with juices like wine And I'm hungry like the wolf Stalked in the forest, too close to hide I'll be upon you by the moonlight side Do do do do do do do dodo dododo dodo High blood drumming on your skin, it's so tight You feel my heat, I'm just a moment behind Do do do do do do do dodo dododo dodo In touch with the ground I'm on the hunt I'm after you Scent and a sound, I'm lost and I'm found And I'm hungry like the wolf Strut on a line, it's discord and rhyme I howl and I whine, I'm after you Mouth is alive, all running inside And I'm hungry like the wolf Hungry like the wolf Hungry like the wolf Hungry like the wolf Burning the ground, I break from the crowd I'm on the hunt I'm after you I smell like I sound, I'm lost and I'm found And I'm hungry like the wolf Strut on a line, it's discord and rhyme I'm on the hunt I'm after you Mouth is alive with juices like wine And I'm hungry like the wolf
Sugar Sugar mmm ... ooh She sits alone waiting for suggestions He's so nervous avoiding all her questions His lips are dry, her heart is gently pounding Don't you just know exactly what they're thinking? If you want my body and you think I'm sexy Come on, sugar, let me know If you really need me just reach out and touch me Come on, honey, tell me so He's acting shy looking for an answer Come on, honey, let's spend the night together Now hold on a minute before we go much further Give me a dime so I can phone my mother They catch a cab to his high rise apartment At last he can tell her exactly what his heart meant If you want my body and you think I'm sexy Come on, sugar, let me know If you really need me just reach out and touch me Come on, honey, tell me so His heart's beating like a drum 'Cause at last he's got his girl home Relax, baby, now we are alone [break] They wake at dawn 'cause all the birds are singing Two total strangers but that ain't what they're thinking Outside it's cold, misty and it's raining They got each other, neither one's complaining He say's I'm sorry but I'm out of milk and coffee Never mind, sugar, we can watch the early movie If you want my body and you think I'm sexy Come on, sugar, let me know If you really need me just reach out and touch me Come on, honey, tell me so Tell me so, baby
What is sertraline?   • Sertraline is in a class of drugs called selective serotonin reuptake inhibitors. Sertraline affects chemicals in the brain that may become unbalanced and cause depression, panic or anxiety, obsessive or compulsive symptoms, or other psychiatric symptoms.   • Sertraline is used to treat depression, obsessive-compulsive disorder, panic disorder, posttraumatic stress disorder (PTSD), premenstrual dysphoric disorder (PMDD), and social anxiety disorder, also known as social phobia.   • Sertraline may also be used for purposes other than those listed in this medication guide.
Oh no. Oh no. This is history repeated. Over and over again. cuantas perlas hay que buscar? en donde las manos deben golpear? todos tememos al fin del mundo but the world is already over so why do we still alive? that is the only question that matters Does humanity has any sense?
La Primavera Marciana dice: ese juiliuxx mensajes emitidos desde el ultramundo por el general popo dice: que tamnbor La Primavera Marciana dice: aca nomas.. que andas haciendo? mensajes emitidos desde el ultramundo por el general popo dice: viendo unos videos del sigur ros La Primavera Marciana dice: orale.. y que tal. mensajes emitidos desde el ultramundo por el general popo dice: chidos La Primavera Marciana dice: ayer me lanze a ver a l yossou n dour, estuvo chido, medio adulto contemporaneo pero chido mensajes emitidos desde el ultramundo por el general popo dice: ese concert del Mogwai estuvo jefe mensajes emitidos desde el ultramundo por el general popo dice: orale mensajes emitidos desde el ultramundo por el general popo dice: se chuto el seven seconds La Primavera Marciana dice: si La Primavera Marciana dice: y que cuanto duro el concierto del m,ogwai? mensajes emitidos desde el ultramundo por el general popo dice: como 2 orejas mensajes emitidos desde el ultramundo por el general popo dice: salierom tres veces,por que la gente se puso efervecente mensajes emitidos desde el ultramundo por el general popo dice: La Primavera Marciana dice: orale que chido y solo tocaron ellos? mensajes emitidos desde el ultramundo por el general popo dice: y el final estuvo de pocasu mensajes emitidos desde el ultramundo por el general popo dice: y otra banda como de punk mensajes emitidos desde el ultramundo por el general popo dice: chida La Primavera Marciana dice: cmoo se llamaba? mensajes emitidos desde el ultramundo por el general popo dice: chale ,por hay lo tengo apuntado mensajes emitidos desde el ultramundo por el general popo dice: me tome unas aver como salen La Primavera Marciana dice: camara,.. mensajes emitidos desde el ultramundo por el general popo dice: reveladores los Mogwai mensajes emitidos desde el ultramundo por el general popo dice: intensidad mensajes emitidos desde el ultramundo por el general popo dice: y silencios ,que hasta escuchabas cuando alguien tiraba el vaso de chela o cuchicheaba mensajes emitidos desde el ultramundo por el general popo dice: y se ven re-chamacos mensajes emitidos desde el ultramundo por el general popo dice: La Primavera Marciana dice: eso si, ademas de que se ve que les late. En barcelona tocaron poquito, como uno hora y media, per o bien pinche duro... mensajes emitidos desde el ultramundo por el general popo dice: hubo de todo mensajes emitidos desde el ultramundo por el general popo dice: que cagado ,mejor esos gueyes tocan aqui,que los goodspeed mensajes emitidos desde el ultramundo por el general popo dice: pinches monos ,no hacen contacto de ningun tipo La Primavera Marciana dice: ya le intenntaste? mensajes emitidos desde el ultramundo por el general popo dice: ya les mande un mail mensajes emitidos desde el ultramundo por el general popo dice: y naranjas mensajes emitidos desde el ultramundo por el general popo dice: te contestan y te dicen que si quieres discos los compres en tales tiendas mensajes emitidos desde el ultramundo por el general popo dice: y te agradecen que te guste su musica,es todo La Primavera Marciana dice: diles que wevoss La Primavera Marciana dice: yo le sparle en barcelons yme dijero que si iban a tocar em mexiaçque, pero no me dijreon cuando mensajes emitidos desde el ultramundo por el general popo dice: pues aqui no tocan mensajes emitidos desde el ultramundo por el general popo dice: el viernes parece que toca un grupo de su disquera mensajes emitidos desde el ultramundo por el general popo dice: a ver si me lanzo mensajes emitidos desde el ultramundo por el general popo dice: por que tambien toca el blackalicius La Primavera Marciana dice: pues a los dos.. mensajes emitidos desde el ultramundo por el general popo dice: a ver La Primavera Marciana dice: y no venden quela taza, el poster o la camistea en los concierntos? mensajes emitidos desde el ultramundo por el general popo dice: nel,en ningun concert mensajes emitidos desde el ultramundo por el general popo dice: solo los discos mensajes emitidos desde el ultramundo por el general popo dice: que tu ya conoces La Primavera Marciana dice: tonces no hay pirateria? mensajes emitidos desde el ultramundo por el general popo dice: nel mensajes emitidos desde el ultramundo por el general popo dice: solo en el concert de bjork inos gueyes vendia unas camisetas La Primavera Marciana dice: en es, por lo menos, si tenemos la ventaja de que siempre habra la playerita o la tazita de tu artista facvborito mensajes emitidos desde el ultramundo por el general popo dice: pero se escondia mensajes emitidos desde el ultramundo por el general popo dice: sincho< mensajes emitidos desde el ultramundo por el general popo dice: aqui la poli se pone perra La Primavera Marciana dice: orale.. La Primavera Marciana dice: y com oes tuvo es de bjork?, toco ella solapa? mensajes emitidos desde el ultramundo por el general popo dice: nel tocan dos gueyes y una banda de cuerdas mensajes emitidos desde el ultramundo por el general popo dice: chido ese concert pero mas masivo,y ese pedo no me late tanto mensajes emitidos desde el ultramundo por el general popo dice: por que de repente no se ve ni madres mensajes emitidos desde el ultramundo por el general popo dice: en el concert de ayer ,termino de guevos mensajes emitidos desde el ultramundo por el general popo dice: los gueyes se empezaron a meter mensajes emitidos desde el ultramundo por el general popo dice: y solo quedo un guey tocando mensajes emitidos desde el ultramundo por el general popo dice: puras pinches distorciones mensajes emitidos desde el ultramundo por el general popo dice: y de repente se mete el guey mensajes emitidos desde el ultramundo por el general popo dice: y las distociones seguian sonando mensajes emitidos desde el ultramundo por el general popo dice: hasta que minutos despues ,subieron los tecnicos La Primavera Marciana dice: osi, eso tambien lo hicieron en barcelona mensajes emitidos desde el ultramundo por el general popo dice: a apagarlas mensajes emitidos desde el ultramundo por el general popo dice: orale mensajes emitidos desde el ultramundo por el general popo dice: y la gente se tapaba las orejas? La Primavera Marciana dice: puro pinche ruido. Yo estaba casi enfrente de una bocinota. Me ensordecio. Peor me ensordecieron menos que lso wire, de ahi si sali con u ntitnitus cabron. La Primavera Marciana dice: nel. a mi lado habia un irlandes que les gritaba un chingo quien sabe que cosa. y llovia, asi que mucha gente se resguardaba. Pero lso que nos quedamos se ve que era por el gfusto del riudo yla salvajda mensajes emitidos desde el ultramundo por el general popo dice: sincho mensajes emitidos desde el ultramundo por el general popo dice: aca la gente se tapo las orejas y yo los veia cagdo de la risa mensajes emitidos desde el ultramundo por el general popo dice: hasta decia ,andeles hijos de su pinche madre ,no que querian mas? La Primavera Marciana dice:
Here is the fact put forth in all future cases. In a pre-distribution of the thought which shall set him apart from the layman. in those last free moments before the ticking, before the death twitch, or the computer noise. it appeared. simple, shuffling, beautiful. Carrying its torn limbs across amber concrete. The tree farm purred under thought of the coming entrpoy, brought not by force but by the power of one man's mind in a sigil of love. all is due to the untra, a heady mix of pornography and facist propaganda. avecaesaro abdullah abdullah.
Shit! my car bomb blew up before i hit the building.
MARK F STOOD AND LAUGHED HOW HE HATED ALL THESE LOVEY DOVEY COUPLES ,HE ONLY HAD TWO FEELINGS HATE AND FUCKING MORE HATE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ,NIGGER NIGGER NIGGER
It ate at him, like a caustic fluid exuded from his own festering, withered soul. Sometimes he laughed at his own perversity, sometimes he could not help but cry for the world of possibilities he denied himself by the self-impalement of his jagged shards of misdirected loathing. But through it all, there was one thing which kept him going. OK, two things. A grande mocha latte frappucino with extra whipped cream and sprinkles, and the old electric cattle prod his dear departed mother had left him, the only legacy she had bequeathed to him in her unsuccessfully-contested will.
Those were the best days, as eternity was achievable in the strictest sense and laughable in the looser sense. Five thousand angels could descend upon him and he would still fucking drink Diet Coke like he was drowning. He WAS drowning. We told him: in the end it would devour your soul, but he did not listen. So, he continued his journey without looking back. We found him, with bandaged wrists and ankles from old attempts, huddled next to a dumpster in the absolute lowest part of 43rd and Midway. Over and over he repeated his mantra: NEIS LEM SEHLEHR HOLM, NEIS LEM SEHLEHR HOLM, NEIS LEM SEHLEHR HOLM. There was no sense to the words, as no known translation exists for insanity achieved through electrical over stimulation of certain areas of the brain. However, we at once realized that the repetition was dangerous. They took him home that night, with his mouth duct-tapped shut, eyes blood-shot and wandering. Something had frightened him: to the point of physical exhaustion, yet there was still an almost incomprehensible terror that lingered. He was silent on the way back to his crummy apartment on Selmer Ave. We laid him out on the couch, watching him relax: the muscle twinges slowly fading away, his eyes slowly steady upon any given object. At length we waited, until we felt he was fully calm and in control of himself. Then we took off the duct-tape. He took a deep breath, than began to whisper to us: “Among many more a terrible thing than the waking hours are the ruins of one’s own mind….I have been there, and I have seen the nurse.” We were going to question him on his exact meaning, but he continued regardless: “You were right….I should have left enough alone. Delving further beyond the veil…the infinite horror and pain. There is beauty among the unattainable and the incomprehensible. But I went on and one….One and on and all and one and om and ont and only and orbs…spheres…..do you follow me?” My friends and I were utterly baffled, shaking our heads in confusion. “You don’t understand, but it is all peaches….ha, ha, PEACHES! You stupid bastards! That’s it! I was The CHOCOLATE and you were the STRAWBERRY! A cipher can ALWAYS be broken, but a true CODE can NEVER be without the correlating mathematical pattern which reverts it back to a cipher. I AM UNCREATE, I AM UNCREATE, I AM UNCREATE, I AM UNCREATE, I AM UNCREATE….." He was like that, five days later, famished without food or water. We were depressed for many weeks, and had to send our condolences to his family for the longest time, but eventual we reached equilibrium and bAlAnCeD. Upon further contemplation, I uncovered a sense of Truth among my passed-over friend’s Chaotic ranting. Most of humanity is in a state of uncreation: In short, pure creation without destruction or uncreation is relatively rare and pure. The majority of uncreation is very small in nature and barely tarnishes karma, such as reading a book twenty years ago, and then there were larger acts of uncreation: such as JK Roling stealing the prototype of Harry Potter from Jane Yolen, who had written Wizard’s Hall more than fifteen years earlier. The ultimate act of uncreation is to be the bringer of Death Because within each living organism resides a countless set of possibilities. Thus, with each organism/orgasm dying before their body reaches it’s optimal point of existence Is the same thing as killing Eternity. Across the ocean someone goes GGGGGGGGGGRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRHHHHHHHHHHMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM and five hundred miles away someone dies, that was an accident, because they did not understand the principles of ultrasound, but many understand the principles of extremely low electromagnetic frequencies. Danger danger danger danger danger. Living life is certainly a risk, but worth it if you survive. You might even learn something. MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM………………………………....she was exquisite, withiuns within and beside. The contradiction was delightful. FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! That is what the program calls for. You may use schisms and diversions and perversions if you wish, but in the end, there is only one WAY, and if you fall from the Path, you are Free to Make Your Own, but we assure you that Sucsess will not be handed to you in a hand basket. “Isn’t that odd, I am the wounded nurse, now you must nurse the nurse back to Health and Hell.” “No need for words, dear.” There was the urge, to make her soul unto mine: I WILL EAT YOUR SOUL, and yet there was another one to make her unto me as she was: “You made a covenant with me, and now you are mine”. I stared into her eyes, her red eyes the colour of a good wine and cherries of a field. I feel/fell forward and absorbed the sound of the universe. It was the sound: Oh. The same sound that Peter made many years ago. He was asked if he Knew this Man. The man whom they brought before him was Not Christ. Peter denied him who was thought to be Christ three times because he knew he was not Christ. Christ lived through the entire ordeal, but the young man who became nailed to the cross achieved nirvana as Christ had while he was visiting India and Tibet fourteen years earlier. I could still feel the nurse somewhere in my subconscious, but I was truly INSIDE her now. Echoes of the echoes of the past . Associations. Disconnection. For some reason the phrases “Pope John Paul II” and I.G. Farben seemed to keep linking themselves together, although there were countless others. “Where are you?” I asked, and then she appeared. She was a bronze Sita and I was one of the Ravana revolutionized. I looked to the floor. It was a purely unidentifiable substance that lay below my feet, though I saw that the sharp lines of Sanskrit and the dark diagrams of various so-called “dark” diagrams. Then I remembered something by a man named Robert Anton Wilson: “The pentagram is designed to teach a philosophical lesson, not to attract individuals with dubious pastimes”. I suppose THAT IT IS THE SAME WITH ALL SYMBOLISMS TO SOMER DEGREE. “Kneel before me.” she said while standing. “Kiss the divide.” Critical mass. “Now, fill the divide.” NMNMNMNMNMNMNNMNMNMNMHMHMGHMGNMHGMGMNGMGHMGNMGHMHGMHGMGMHMGHMGHMGHMGHMGHMHGMHGMNNNNNNNNMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM>>>>>>>>>> I did so, and I could feel her as I felt myself. Grasping her tightly, she was oceanic. Then she shattered. Into a million pieces did she thus fall, and I fell down into my loft. The dream is dead. Long live the dream. Their souls had been vivisected, and we knew not what was real anymore. I JUST WANTED TO LIVE. I JUST WANTED TO SEE THE DAWN. I JUST WANTED TO LIVE. I JUST WANTED TO 3748972389478273489723894fuck489723894789237489723987489723894789. Repeat three times and you shall feel better in the morning or at least find that the ORPHAN is NOT RESPOSNBIBLIBLE for relationship problems or brain seizures.
Then Flopsy and her friends lollopped from cutesy cottage to the home of their friend, Sleepy the bear. "Yawn!" said Sleepy. "Is it afternoon already? I was just settling down for a nap." "ho ho ho!" laughed the friends. "Wake up! Its time to play!" They went out to play in the field. Everyone was there - Flopsy, Sleepy, Grimes the hedgehog, Percy the owl. "Im so depressed," moaned Paul, the buzzard. "Nothing exciting happens around here."
one more other, and then another and another. so now that we know WHERE we are, let me get right to the point. ---> don't laught at me. touch the wooded frame for support, supposing, if anything, that support is what you need, what you read think and feel. are you understanding my english? seeing my breath in an icy fog? sticking to the sides of my teeth with the supreme joy of knowing - knowing that someday I'll return and turn and turn... for i am oft returning. you've made my hed into a boggle of overpassing issues taking flight. ("flight cannot be taken. it is immaterial, without ownership. flight is an action... an action performed with the purpose, th- the purpose of a-abandon. "He's the man with the abandoned hat! the cruel bald spot sticking to his head like a "Kick Me" sign taped proudly on his back. KICK! "Stay clear of that man! That thing, for he is no longer a man, in as much as you and i are no longer animals, but beings too proud to associate with the rest of the world. Listen, my un-friend for the animal voices; listen to what they teach and listen hard, 'cuz i'm a tellin' ya, y'old geezer, that even if ya listen ya'll forget it ever happened. yer ahooman an' too fukkkin' proud t'admit that y'er once was a nanimal. PHE!"
And he was running down the streets naked, singing: "DANCING, I AM THE DANCING!"
"ah ah", the blind dancer
oh oh. Yep; Sheila is at it again...
the voices of a thousand deceased hounds echo through the youg man's hollow head.
Picking up my can of super sheen I sealed the crack left by my previous journey - not denied or wasted merely left for another day. and then I just walked away.
Wild MOnarch butterflies engulfed in black flames sputtered about belching clouds of flower pollen they had collected earlier in the day. the flower pollen burning reminded him of the incense the monks used to burn in the evening to honor their dead. for a moment the disaster around him dissapeared, and he was back in the courtyard behind the temple, age 9, still happy.
And I tryed to ride my skateboard in the graceyard
and thus no-one could completely understand how deeply and utterly I wish to impress you WAKE UP WAKE UP for christ's sake be someone this time be WITH me if you can be nothing else but BE
well the jazz came on the radio. whitehouse still doing same thing. no one traveling in public. and no more good music to speak of.
God. Another day with which to beautify this exquisite corpse.
She was blind.no,that's not the truth.infact she could see-but it w see-but it was more fun to spend her day groping about. "poor mrs.havel"the old ladies of the block would cluck,as they watched her stumble from corner to corner. "doesn't she know what she's wearing" "oh she knows...but i guess it's done to ad to the total effect effect..." "oh..."
Curiouser and curiouser.
it had a thick blueish crust building around the edge of it.
and then he/she died.
and then he/she died.
superglue fixed the GOAT WOUND and the Cabbabes burst out onto her belly. The hot cheese was meant for her naked breasts, but the House fell down and killed every single one of them. a sad farewell.
7v t cmn ctt !Z99ikkkmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm j l;.okj f
Awake. I grasped frantically at the fading snatches of my dream-message. What were They trying to tell me? "The nurse is eternal..." "We all dream the same dream; some of us are narrating, some of us are participants; some of us are mere walk-ons..." "The Africans in Conrad's 'Heart of Darkness' were not essential to the story as a whole. Objections raised by (usually) black writers tend to condemn Conrad's work by saying it failed as a means of opening peoples' eyes to the plight of the Africans, by reducing them to mere background decoration. And what would have happened if 'Heart of Darkness' had succeeded in raising awareness of the harsh treatment of blacks in Africa and everywhere else? Ralph Ellison would probably have spent his days as a fry-cook, as the invisible man behind the cash register..." I've gotta go out and cut up another prostitute, I guess.
in response he pointed out that squash wouldn't be in season for at least another four months, and that using unripened produce could potentially be catastrophic to such a delicate recipe. i conceded the point in light of his words. baron vladmizcy's taste in eastern dishes was superb, even epicurean. one could not afford the slightest mistake in the kitchen.
South Dakota rainbow wire thin sheep's leg baking exhibit (in titanium penguin merangue)meets blood of butterfly penis on the 31st of October (Samhain), then only by fully realizing the secret is in the back of the TV set, where the parakeet feathers meet KA-CHANG!
I tripped on her hair. It was brown and wiry. She always clung to the delapitated handbag like it was her own breast, full of milk and ready to be drained. The man was corpulent, with a beard, and a sock full of schism. I imagine shutting the car door lightly, feeling the spray of his saliva like a crumpling tomato. That was when the operator pulled the plug, I awoke, and my hands were swollen with bee stings. The train was overwhelming and coarse. Children laughing and parents contemplating how many years it would be before they could have sex again. that was three years ago, before any of the milk had been drained. I felt.
Peter Cook?? In a Field??
And I wondered when he got out of that Thai prison why he never wanted to go to the noodle house anymore. Women have needs too.
The next thought that came to the mind was one of self destruction. Methods are more easily brought to the surface when one sits bound by hand and foot in a silent, dark closet. The sweat trickled down the forehead slowly crept toward the heaving breasts also bound by thick tape to the back of a stiff wooden chair. Methods, Methods: take the pills he offered, use the knife now hidden under her own left buttock, or the beautiful razor she had used before. If she could only get one hand loosened she should be able to reach the one item that could destroy both of them.
without a doubt it was a replica, formica fashioned into sublime shades, truly the work of a genius. a sentance of ten years was passed onto the poor fellow for he had forgotten all the rules in his working frenzy, and when re entering the outside world, his ignorance proved no excuse
every time i left something i found it double half medium size
I pooped in a cup and held it out to him expectantly. He thought it juvenile, but Gibby had said art was just a fart with the “f” missing, so I continued down the street. I fell face first into the pavement came out. It was a simple thing really, but it had never happened like this, so they continued again. Now it was getting late and they were in no place they should have been at all so we ran. We ran. My god, I’ve never ever felt so sad and terrible on tenterhooks. It all came crashing down then the weight of the world.
not now
go away
leave me alone
and i did....for the moment....
...the chip bag was empty, so we bought some more. "Dill Pickle" as rendered by the Yum-Yum corporation of Quebec. They're cheaper than the front-runner brands, but you still get all the chemicals and salt you crave. Marley Boo asked if we had had anything to listen to. We said "no - there's already too much music out there". So we hooked up the radiator and listened to it steam.
DIe..die...die...Said the sad wise man...Kill everybody with biological warfare!
GOATWOUNDGOATWOUNDGOATWOUNDGOATWOUNDGOATS WERE KICKING IN HIS DOOR-A STANGE PACKAGE ARRIVED FROM OREGON-INSIDE THERE WERE TANTRIC ELVES- STEVEN WAS EMBARRASED-HIS PENIS BEGAN TO SING AND PROJECT KRAQZY KAT CARTOONS ON THE INSIDE OF WILLAM BLAKES SKULL-HE DEC IDED TO SUCK ON AN ELECTRIC TOASTER NEXT WHAT HAPPENED WAS
and those fingers are fine. but thats all my opinion isnt it? six years later and light years away
It is Thanksgiving Eve 2003 and my gut is wired. We could go anywhere from here
pink ring a'dancin'
you're the one who said clean her eye
smell of pumpkin pie and pomegranate
damnit
white dead sky
thanksgiving eve 2003
should i eat turkey or 5-htp?
it is thanksgiving 2003 and the plates are covered in vaseline as blue jelly spews from Alice orifice
The multidimentional simultaneous existences and interactions with the tiny woman with big medicine. Meditation on a woman, the face of a woman, the many faces that permeate the surface of the bone structure depending on the lighting, the make up, the tilting of the head, the strethching of the skin of the mouth, into a smile which in turn creates the cheeks, or the absence of the smile which reveals the high cheek bones and the severity of the golden eyes, I know this woman, I have known her as sister, as lover, as butterfly, as medicine woman with wrinkled eyes, and now that she is in the sun boat of my heart, I see her changing expressions in the bark of trees, the rivers whirling skin, and am visited by her great river of knowing as we have dreamed together the giant eternal dream that only rarely graces the hearts of two beings healing the wounds of time with the medicine of fearless embracing that we have taken part in the interweaving of mayas veil and that we have coupled before, and that she has given birth to me, and that I have murdered her, been her brother, and at one time her medicine woman. What do you see in my face Colleen? Does it change and follow you as well, do you see that my face is a hole into the depths of the planetary wheel, for I see that your face is a hole and having entered am amazed at the big medicine of the tiny woman and the rip that she has healed in time through the hole in her face and the hole that was in her heart. May the mystery that is myself be revealed by her viewing for I cannot see this vastness which I embody except in silence and far away from any words or mirors, may she inform me of my many faces and the many holes that make up the whole of my body.
I think i felt my knee tied to the refrigerator. It kicked my in the groin. I argued and slapped it with a stick. It answered back in a very haughty voice: "Young man, I am ashamed of you! I thought you knew better than to transform your knee into comedy".
i drift over bank floors, looking at the geography of nowhere, dreaming of tall buildings, and the unseen cherry blossoms in the sky.
and they all got wee
she had tracked him down and then finally cornered him and planted a nice firm kiss upon his lips.
the end.
Then That guy from the laundromat came running through the door
ma arvan, et te olete valusad tropid.. kes siis sedasi seda mängu mängib? ah? VASTA
I am not sure what happens when they go back………..I think they are investigated by sterile government clerks with computer chips in their brains. Most of them never go back. Some of them get depressed because deep in their personalities there is a nutter wanting to attack but his face is painted in the sign of a smile.
Then die, but before your soul is smudged across the sky, kiss me.
However, it did not.
rubbing my self all over the car , keeps inside my house I want it to be clean carpets in my brains rubber dancing
the primitive man boobs appeared to be completed
(nurse with wounderful)
home
NEWS
MUSIC
TEXT
PEOPLE
LINKS
FUN
CREDITS
twinkling of a salty stream of amoeba chins left the side of a black face outlined in silver. bent, cold, and alone with only a box of Milk Duds for consolation a lack of teeth preserved the smell of chocolate.
he shoved the coat hanger in her eye blinding her
the wait of the world
the black magickal wounding of 5000 goats. and then Shep found that criag had indeed made the tentacles manifest. none were too sure but the cool damp forest emited screams of pony nightmares. the turning of the key, the far away glances. seldom seen but often hinted at the blood poured down into the green grassy knoll. trolls retched.
well, little jimmy was finally dead, oficially dead. This last character drummed up his own soap with such enthusiasm as to interest the whole jolly ruckus of mechanics, but sadly it was too late. There was nothing they could do. Remorseless, even sickeningly jolly, they recounted the whole episode passing a bottle of mad dog between them and delicately slicing thin shards of cheddar. "The whole left stem, it was clogged with foam!" har har. "Little jimmy, ah what a lad what a jolly jolly lad. Never took a drink once!" har "But thousands of showers!" explosive har. Snowfall would have been nice here, but only the sliver moon and a warm breeze. Little jimmy never really had a chance, and was never quite clean...
Good for you jimbo. Give em hell, kid. Give me that gawdam soap now, and the ring finger of your left hand. Oh it doesnt detach, eh? We'll see about that..."-----St. Peter. RIP---Little jimmy. Drummer of soap, Freuds biggest fan. we'll miss you, androgynous dream. Hope life on the moon keeps you entertained. ---signed, the Mechanics (out untill two)
swarthy
simple 9salt9
salts (prt 1,two and 3. trinity, and I missed it. fuck'"
There's (sanskrit, i know FAR CRY) always tommorrow...!
the insides viewing out. and you can print that(if you canetch it)
aqule zeu azul era locco como la luna mas tas afalar da lua moon luna astra
JUST as it was written on his penis. The "KING" took out his silver matlelic felt tip and wrote it. Fluid and effortlessly, like he's done this before. But at a nightclub bar? In front of everyone including security, in this part of the city? Man, those dogs smell like cheese.
Hey before you go, how much for the 'KIDS'?
After the Tuba burst into F-LA-ME, the glowing violet light allowed her to discover the priest(ess)'s true inentions. They were to explore her mind with a set of festive cutlery, plastic forkes, tampons, trumpets and the like. And so she let loose her ferret-worm deep into the desert sands, to the grave of her fathers. And glory all be it grew a tree glowing blood red. Red like her lips, red like the plastic already worming its way through her earlobe.
Whilst barking splendidly at a blood orange moon, wreathed with fluffy little clouds, he considered how satisfying it would be to eat the intestinal tract of his recently dead Grandmother. There is no shame in following ones own path, he mused, whilst putting the first forkful of the polymorphus mass that was Granny's guts into his mouth. He lamented the fact that his undergarments were soiled but then again, he thought, very few of us are beyond reproach.
Turning my head to the left, right after turning it to the right, I found myself trapped in a moisterous metallic thingy, a cylindrical space which foremost reminded me of the tin-cans I played with in my youth, which in my wild imagination were transformed to monsters' caskets, spaceships, urinoars of the Outer Gods, et cetera.
She could here the birds sing, it mesmerized her into otherwordly miasmic convulsions, and then I thought; "Hey! Stfu, ffs! Wft!"
And better than a dead fly was the "oh I'm sorry" bluster from the chalk-gripped dead voice. ECHO EC-ECHO-HO and so on as if there had bever been a better recording of Satie's Oeuvre pour piano. A new way to criticise was intent on bleeding all over the fucking place and that's what made the mailshot such a grim success. Breakfast? Low!
the turkey sandwich dripped down his chin in great half eaten chunks, smearing the goat that lay between his legs. "mother! no!"
You see my friend,nothing is ever what you expect it to be. I think it has something to do with that be word. or then again maybe its just the use of words at all. your face your arms how many girls do you have? love olivia
most importantly lady is that we are all trapped in a novel called --radio free albemuth-- listen for the egg that we would hope to be given...it is our only hope. fuck reality t.v. --shove it. had enough queer eye look for the rite time and pluck it out. we are all really unreal. unreally shopping in a recycle bin the size of an ever unfolding galaxy************find time to have time for unreal time. we are erotically constructed to nectar the fun. spin some hair around your lips........ put on a meat vest....a buzz buzz bee. a finger form..... work as a spiritual practice...stuff it. log in, download, get viral. and when i did this my my mymymymymymymymymymymymymymymymymymymymymy mymymymymymymymymymymymymymymymymy well well.
Henry said the landmine only took off her little toe but the blast forced dirt up into the wound all the way to the thigh so they had to amputate the entire leg. Fecal matter in the sand. I drank another jack & coke and finished Luanne’s cape cod as she poured ice on herself.
And so she was. He began to cough enthusiastically. The water in the glass quivered exquisitely with each approaching footstep. My mass hysteria danced and conquered behind the curtain. Reproduction. Shadows echo and bounce.
chancy was always put in the 'basic' groups and assumed he was as stupid as his teacher told him he was.
Apanhado na estrada pelo pulmão do Sr. Alves. Não consigo respirar mais Os pés começaram a dançar, os pés deixaram de dançar...
and he awoke, not knowing where he was, but recognizing that he was missing one arm, he had to assume that the survey was inconclusive, as if he had been correct in the traditional sense, none of this would ever have happened. so as he continued along the path, he noticed not one, but two dead bodies, where there had once been one. he did not remember buying the second, but he believed that the second body could not be mine, as familiar a face it contained.
In haste - I will call you tomorrow to debrief on our meeting today on Vietnam. It is still looking positive but we need to: 1. Clarify the issues and a plan for proceeding. 2. Discuss this informally with representatives of our Board 3. Get approval from a sub-committee of the Board There are lots of implications for us. Let's talk tomorrow. Sorry - have to run.
Avery, after a long absence, was "back in town". The ankle less beast had now been long gone and it was safe for him to rise back out of the mud. The eye was still broken, which was even more unfortunat as he had now grown another face. I believe he had it all along, or rather, the seed was planted long before it sprouted. See, he believes himself to be a holy man. A man of "God". The pathetic existence he lives could no longer be blamed on others. It was all him. He took up residence in a hobby shop and surrounded himself with cartoon action figures and dolls in glass cases, totally unaware of the outside world. It is here that his evil machinations took on an almost laughable phase. It was the dawning of the hornless bull.
and then and yet
and then and yet and then... again and then as yet and then again... it came to pass that at certain times in my life i found that i possessed an uncanny ability to spot out not only the prescence of, but also the general shape and color of beings that one could not construe with the naked eye. their mere presence was an utter shock to me on the day of my discovery of said "powers", as i had never been one to let my imagination run wild. in the time since this discovery of mine (nearly 15 years now), i have become not only aware of their presence, but i have also become enlightened to the fact that they (in some unimaginable way) also perceive MY existance. one can only speculate what such a creature as a human-being might appear as to a floating amoeba-like organism, who's realm is obviously NOT of the material. to them, perhaps i seem as a floating mass of veiled color and movement... form without mass or density... action without reaction... objects sealed forever in time across a sea of what? thin air? surely there is somethign binding us to our respective plains of existance. could this be some time-rift? maybe this is the past i am seeing, burnt like an image onto film, only to loop again and again until the world stops spinning. or maybe these visions are thigns not yet happened. certainly, this would explain the seeming distance between the individuals i am seeing and my inability to truly interact with them. but if this is so, then how thin truly MUST the veil of time be? what exactly is stopping the whole of time from condensing into one jumbled pile of mush? at the heart of the universe, what keeps the chaos in order?
This is the best story I have ever read! It actually made me start to FEEL my body and be IN IT, for the first time in ages and I ended up having the best SEX I've had in years! Schism? releasing? integration? wow maybe even acceptance!??? hesitation will render me quiet until I see more, if I see more i'll try not to quarrel with it anymore though i think ridding myself of my maternal figure right now has helped immensely which is sad but i'm still glad
Have to just add something to this last comment... I JUST WANT TO HAVE FUNK Yeah!!!
Down, ever down. Don't look that way though, the gasoline sprays ever upwards and it will blast out your eyes from their sockets faster than you can say "McPubic". You're no good to us without those precious eyes of yours, no good to yourself either. Ahh, smell the fine, green pollution. That's from the burning, you know ? We cloned those creatures so that their skeletons are born right after they fall from the cunts of their mothers. It's a gruesome spectacle to be sure, but people don't like to gnash through splinters or large pieces of bones. Cannibals ? Ha! We are not cannibals! Even if we didn't consume those wretched pulp-like masses of flesh, they'd still die after having writhed in unbelievable torment and pleasure in about ten minutes. It's better this way. I don't fancy seed in my steak, and fuck knows these things ejaculate like crazy if you let them. Ever downwards we go. You think that's the sky you see? Nay, that's just the light glass of the upper 'scrapers reflecting the ghoulish gray of the polluted sky above. Hadn't it been for the thick, pestilent polution down here, we wouldn't even need the tent. We'll give you a mask, of course, but still, you shouldn't venture out without a hound escort. Wierd things that know no mother or father roam the valleys and yards beneath, and shrill cries ring throughout the night from shattered throats that damn themselves to eternity not to have proceeded with greater caution. Once, we had to pull the remains of one Mary Cartskait out from a tube which was only an inch in diameter. How the fuck whatever beast did this got her into that thing, we could only guess. Though some scientist wierdo of some sort suggested that, seing as red traces of slime and saliva were found at the opposite end of the pipe, the creature might have tried to suck her trough the rusty old pipe. We had her corpse partially reasembled, and although it wasn't pretty, we still gave it a good raping just to display to the simple folks down there, that one shouldn't go out alone at any time. Not unpunished, they will.
MORE THOUGHTS...SEX+DEATH=ABANDONMENT=BPD+PTSD. SEX+PUNISHMENT=PTSD/PERVERSION GRANTED. LSD+SEX=TRAUMA=SAW THE MONKEY=SEX NOT BEAUTIFUL ANYMORE (THANK YOU SW FOR SHARING THIS!). ME=BPD=WHORE-SLUT/BAD OR VIRGIN-PURE-INNOCENT/GOOD=BLACK&WHITE THINKING=BPD. MORRISON=OEDIPAL FANTASY FASCINATION/RECOGNITION OF SCHISM-SPLIT IDENTITY-SEX=DEATH=BPD CONFIRMED AGAIN. RAPE+THREAT OF DEATH=BPD/PTSD CONFIRMED AGAIN AGAIN. MARRIAGE+25 YEARS OF SMOTHERING MOTHER=REMOVAL FROM SELF=TRAITOR TO SELF=SCHIZOID? FATHER FIGURE THREATENS RAPE AGAIN=MORE CONFIRMATION=BPD/PTSD CONFIRMED AGAIN AGAIN AGAIN. EVERY MAN A POTENTIAL RAPIST=STUCK IN RESULTING IRRATIONAL PARANOID IDEA. DESIRE FOR SEX SHOULD = PUNISHMENT. PERVERSION COMPLETE. EVERY MAN COULD RAPE ME AND I MIGHT EVEN WANT IT=UNACCEPTABLE THOUGHT. DENIAL OF LIBIDO BECAUSE OF UNACCEPTABLE THOUGHT=DESIRE FOR PUNISHMENT=DESIRE FOR PAIN DURING SEX=CONFUSION/DELUSION=PTSD/BPD=CALL THE COPS-RESTRAINING ORDER-NEED TO BE ALONE-NEED NO MAN! (THANK YOU AGAIN SW!) DESIRE STILL THERE. OEDIPAL TRANSFERENCE ONTO SW THEN EVERY MAN BECOMES POTENTIAL RAPIST AGAIN AGAIN AGAIN AGAIN. (IT'S OK SW, NOT YOUR FAULT OR MINE.) REALIZATION OF OBSESSIVE SEXUAL DESIRE/FANTASIES=INFIDELITY=DIVORCE=MY SON LOSES HIS FATHER OR MOTHER=REPEAT OF CYCLE OF ILLNESS=NO!!!!!!! STOP!!!!!! SO....DENIAL OF LIBIDO=TRANSIENT PSYCHOSIS-PARANOIA OF ALL MALES=FEAR OF SEXUALITY=DENIAL OF LIBIDO CIRCLE LOOP. TRAPPED IN IMPOSSIBLE IMPASSE. I TOUCHED HER THIGH AND DEATH SMILED (THANK YOU JM, R.I.P.). LOOP. LOOP. LOOP. LOOP. TRANSIENT PSYCHOSIS NOW TRANSLATING AS REVEALING SELF TO OTHERS INTO TRANSPARENCY=FEELING SEE THROUGH=FEELING UNSAFE=EVERY MAN WILL THINK I AM A WHORE=DENIAL OF LIBIDO. LOOP. SW-SMITHS-WHEN? WHEN? WHEN? IMPATIENCE. THOUGHT. NURSE WITH WOUND, OH YEAH...CAME HERE. READING THIS=LAUGHTER-TEARS-LAUGHTER, MORE LAUGHTER=JUXTAPOSITION OF GOOD AND EVIL OF UNACCEPTABLE AND ACCEPTABLE OF WHORE AND VIRGIN OF VIOLENCE AND SEX AND DEATH AND HUMOR=HEALING, LAUGHTER AND....FUN?!!!!!! YES!!!!!! ACCEPTANCE=BEGINNING TO FEEL WHOLE-EVERYTHING LOOKS DIFFERENT, EVEN THE RAINBOW LIGHTS FROM MY SON'S TOY-HIS SMILE-MY HUSBAND-OMG THE THOUGHTS I'M HAVING!! LAUGHTER!! HUSBAND BRINGS HOME BOOK-366 POSITIONS-ONE FOR EVERY DAY INCLUDING LEAP YEAR-LAUGHTER!! YEAH!! ACCEPTANCE?? REALLY?? OMG, I WANT TO....I DO??? YES!!!!! OMG, I CAN FEEL MY BODY!!!! HOW LONG WAS I NUMB????!!! ACCEPTANCE=BEGINNING OF WHOLENESS. BIBLE? GOD? ATHEISM? IRRELEVANT! HEALING...I AM GOD...ME??? YES!!!! MY BODY IS GOOD (GOD)!!! I AM ANIMAL/WHORE/WOMAN/VIRGIN/SLUT ROLLED INTO ONE=INNOCENT WITH A TOUCH OF EVIL=GRAY. I CAN FEEL MYSELF INSIDE MY BODY!!! I WANT!!!! I DESIRE!!!! NOW!!!! ACCEPTANCE=WHOLENESS=EVEN THE WAY THE LIGHT LOOKS CHANGED=MOTIVATION=DINNER COOKED NICELY=FLIRTATION WITH HUSBAND=LAUGHTER=FUN=CAN'T WAIT UNTIL LATER=PLEASURE!!! GASP!!!! YEAH!!!! OMG, I REALLY DON'T FEEL ILL ANYMORE! THANK YOU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
OK. I WENT OUT TO A RESTAURANT TODAY. OUT IN PUBLIC FOR FIRST TIME IN A WHILE. I WAS DOING FINE. I WAS WITH MY GIRL FRIEND L AND MY WISE OLD CHENGIAH. WE WERE TALKING ABOUT MORE MEANINGFUL JOBS. I TOLD THEM I WANT TO BE A WRITER. I WANT IT TO MEAN SOMETHING TO ME, WHAT I WRITE ABOUT IT. I WANT A CHALLENGE, BUT NOT TO BE STRESSFUL. I DON'T MIND DEADLINES. I CAN HANDLE THOSE, AS LONG AS REASONABLE. I NEED TO CUT MY HOURS IN HALF TOO SO I CAN HAVE MORE TIME WITH MY SON. HE NEEDS ME. BUT I NEED TO BEGIN TO HAVE A SELF TOO. I MENTION TOO THAT MAYBE I WOULD LIKE TO WORK IN SOME SORT OF HUMANITARIAN VEIN, WRITING. EDITOR? WRITER. ONE OR THE OTHER. PROBABLY START AS WRITER. PROBABLY PREFER THAT ANYWAY. DESIRE TO INFLUENCE IN POSITIVE DIRECTION THE WORLD. THEN -- HE WALKS IN. THIS GUY, BLONDE HAIR LONGISH HE'S SO THERE THERE THERE. I SEE HIM AND MY HEART GOES THUMP. I FEEL THAT DANGEROUS FEELING. SHIT. I WANT HIM. OH NO. HE REMINDS ME OF THAT PERP 10 YEARS AGO, THAT'S SICK. SICK HUMANITARIAN PUPPY WRITER. MUSIC REVIEWER. NEED TO MAKE JUST ENOUGH MONEY, BUT NO NEED TO MAKE A TON. I'M NOT GREEDY. JUST NEED TO HAVE ENOUGH TO EXIST COMFORTABLY WITH CREATING MUSIC ON THE SIDE AS A FUTURE OUTLET WHEN MY SON IS OLDER. OR MAYBE SOONER. I LOOK UP AGAIN, HE'S STILL THERE. GO AWAY!!!!! SHIT!!!!!! WHAT IS HE DOING HERE? IT SHOULDN'T BE ALLOWED. HE IS TOO SEXY. SHIT. I AM GOING TO EXPLODE UNLESS I SHIELD MY FACE. I FEEL RIDICULOUS. I AM RIDICULOUS. THIS IS THE PAST. THIS IS NOT THE PRESENT. THERE IS NO DANGER!!! IT IS ONLY IN YOUR MIND. YOU KEEP FORGETTING THAT. IT IS ONLY IN YOUR MIND. IT IS ONLY IN YOUR MIND. IT IS JUST THE PAST. IT IS JUST THE PAST. IT IS JUST THE PAST. JUST THE PAST. JUST THE PAST. THERE IS NO DANGER. NO DANGER. NO DANGER. NO DANGER. NO DANGER. NO DANGER. HE DOESN'T EVEN KNOW I EXIST. THAT'S GOOD. YOU REALLY WISH HE DID KNOW AND THE ROOM WOULD EMPTY AND...NO I DO NOT!!!!! SHUT UP!!!! YES YOU DO. NO I DON'T. YES YOU DO. NO, I DON'T. WELL OK MAYBE I DO. SO WHAT? NOTHING'S GOING TO HAPPEN. NO ONE IS ACTING ON ANYTHING. HE DOESN'T EVEN KNOW ABOUT THIS!!!!! SO THERE'S NO DANGER, IS THERE? BUT YOU FEEL ASHAMED, YOU FEEL UNFAITHFUL. YOU BITCH. YOU SLUT. NO I AM NOT. STOP. WHY, YOU DESERVE IT, YOU ASK FOR IT. NO I DO NOT. THAT'S THE PAST TALKING TO ME IN VOICES THAT JUST WON'T SHUT UP. HOW SILLY. HOW SILLY. HOW INANE. HOW INSANE. HOW PSYCHOTIC AND RIDICULOUS AND DELUSIONAL TO THINK THAT THE WORLD EXISTS INSIDE MY HEAD, WHEN REALLY IT'S JUST MY OWN LITTLE TINY THOUGHTS PRIVATELY OWNED. NO ONE ELSE KNOWS THIS. KEEP THIS JUST BETWEEN US. OK???? PLEASE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!KEEP THIS JUST BETWEEN US. OH GOD. NO ONE CAN KNOW. NO ONE ELSE, THAT IS. YOU HERE, THAT'S OK. YOU SEEM TO KNOW MY WORLD. YOU SEEM TO KNOW ME. SO IT'S OK. YOU ALREADY KNOW ME ANYWAY. SO WHAT'S THE DIFFERENCE? THERE'S NO DANGER HERE. I CAN SAY WHAT I WANT. OK, I WILL THEN. OK, I DID FIND HIM TOTALLY DESIRABLE. SO JUST MAKE LOVE TONIGHT WITH YOUR HUSBAND AND LAUGH AS YOU THINK OF HIM! ISN'T THAT WRONG? I DON'T KNOW--IS IT? IS THAT UNFAITHFUL? WHAT SHIT DID YOU GET TAUGHT? IS IT SHIT? IS IT STUPID? I AM AN ANIMAL. I SAID SO THIS MORNING. I AM AN ANIMAL/INNOCENT/WHORE/SLUT/BEAUTIFUL/SEXUAL BEING. SO WHAT. SO IS EVERYONE. SO JUST READ THE STORY AGAIN A LITTLE. IT'LL HELP YOU REALIZE YOU'RE OK AGAIN. ACCEPTANCE, YOU MUST STRIVE TOWARDS ACCEPTANCE OF YOUR DESIRES. YOU MUST ACCEPT THE PROGRAM THAT'S THERE IF YOU WANT TO CHANGE IT. THE PROGRAM THAT'S THERE. WHAT IS IT? IT IS PERVERTED WHEN I FEEL UNFAITHFUL AND THEN MY HUSBAND WANTS ME AND I FEEL LIKE A WHORE SO I THINK I DESERVE TO BE PUNISHED. DAMN. LOOP AGAIN. IT'S OK. THIS WILL HAPPEN AS YOU KEEP TAKING RISKS AND REALIZE THAT NOTHING BAD HAPPENS TO YOU. YOU MUST ASK FOR COMFORT, BUT YOU SHOULD TRY TO ALSO HAVE SEX AGAIN TONIGHT, BECAUSE YOU KNOW YOU ARE SAFE HERE. YOU KNOW YOU ARE SAFE HERE. HE WILL ONLY PUNISH YOU IF YOU TELL HIM. HE WILL BE JEALOUS AND THEN YOU WILL PUNISH YOURSELF FOR HIM SO THAT HE WON'T DO IT INSTEAD. YOU WILL DO IT TO PREEMPT HIM DOING IT. BETTER TO WHIP YOURSELF THAN SOMEONE ELSE WHIP YOU. AHHHHHHHHRRRRRRGGGGGHH HELP HELP HELP. NO YOU CAN HELP YOURSELF. YOU CAN REALIZE THIS IS ALL PROGRAMMING SOME FAULTY PARENTS PUT INTO YOU AND THEN SOME FAULTY MALES REINFORCED. SO YOU CAN DETACH JUST ENOUGH. LAUGHTER. YOU NEED LAUGHTER. YOU NEED LAUGHTER. THAT'S DETACHMENT. OH HOW MY PANTIES ACHED IN THAT RESTAURANT HAHAHAHAHA AND HE SAW THAT AND SAID....(INAUDIBLE). I WILL WHIP HIM. HIM. HIM. HIM. HE DESERVES IT FOR BEING SO DAMNED ATTRACTIVE. OH, LIKE *YOU* DID FOR JUST FLIRTING? THAT'S MORE DAMNING THAN SIMPLY BEING BAREFOOT AND ATTRACTIVE. OK. STOP. YOU'RE GOING IN CIRCLES. STOP. YOU ARE OK. YOU ARE NOT IN DANGER. THERE IS NO DANGER. JUST PERVERSION GOING ON, LOVELY SWEET PERVERSION AND YOU JUST NEED TO RELEASE IT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ACCEPT YOUR PERVERSION SO YOU CAN BE!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ACCEPT YOURSELF. ACCEPT YOURSELF. ACCEPT YOURSELF. ACCEPT YOURSELF. ACCEPT YOURSELF. ACCEPT YOURSELF. ACCEPT YOURSELF. ACCEPT YOURSELF. I ACCEPT MY SEXUAL DESIRES. I ACCEPT MY SEXUAL AND PUNISHMENT DESIRES. I ACCEPT MY SEXUAL DESIRES AND PUNISHMENT DESIRES. I DON'T NEED TO ACT ON THE PUNISHMENT DESIRE. I JUST NEED TO ACCEPT THE DESIRE. ACCEPT THE DESIRE FOR BLENDING THE TWO. THEN JUST DON'T BLEND. JUST HAVE SEXUAL DESIRE. ACCEPT YOURSELF DON'T REPRESS YOURSELF. MADONNA WHORE I AM. YAY! ACCEPT YOURSELF. ACCEPT YOURSELF ACCEPTYOURSELFACCEPTYOURSELFACCEPTYOURSELFACCEPTYOURSELFACCEPTYOURSELFACCEPTYOURSELFUNTILYOUAREHEALED ACCEPT YOURSELF ACCEPT YOURSELF I ACCEPT MYSELF I ACCEPT MY SELF I ACCEPT MY SEXUAL DESIRES I ACCEPT MY ANIMAL TENDENCIES TO WANT TO BE HURT FOR MY SEXUAL DESIRES OF SOMEONE OTHER THAN MY BETROTHED. THERE'S NO POPE IN MY HEAD. THERE'S NO MINISTER THERE. THERE'S NO PEEPING TOM. THERE'S NO ONE THERE EXCEPT ME!! SO IT'S OK!!! ALRIGHT??? ALRIGHT.
People are always screaming cheap sexual allusions into the conch that used to be wrapped around my ear. I was teaching the "Ocean" game to several of my more "disturbed" relatives one day when It suddenly occured to me that the shell belonged where I'd put it. For several years I was wonderfully happy with my pearlized amplifier {I stroked it a lot {sometimes it would stroke back}} My neighbors and friends all developed an intense fondness for my conch. but after several too many gougings in my sleep I decided that the shell and I should at least sleep in different rooms seeing as the temptation got to be far too intense to bear at times. These days my friends talk to the conch a lot. and I simply gouge myself. I'll probably go swimming this afternoon.
why do we chance it? the uppermost peak is a dull spot for introspection and we'd rather be fishing anyhow
It was a most sleazy day, in which the anxiousness of every situation was magnified a googillion fooled. No terestrial consciousness remained intact, but only the vast polymorphous blob of "reality" by whose light I had been blinded perversly. It was a sad state of affairs, but the way of the wild world. I looked out from the window into the nothingness that had stained the beyond. It was blind folly for me to continue to stare, but I could not help it: the droning tinuitis in my most beloved elven ears. They ringed with a piercing displeasure, yet one that altogether captivated me with its meaningless urgency. My mask had dissolved and only the naked shadow now remains, a vast unruly thing that has grown out of all proportion to invest itself with fractured slices of a dystopian personalty. All godly qualities had decayed, and with them, the pungent rotting mysticism of eternity.
WHY RISK IT? SOMEONE ASKS. BECAUSE I CAN'T LIVE IN THIS KIND OF FEAR AND BE SPLIT IN TWO MUCH LONGER, WITHOUT IT KILLING ME FOR REAL. I NEED SOMEWHERE SAFE TO INTEGRATE AND TRANSFORM MYSELF. I AM NOT DENYING THE CHEAPNESS OF THE SEXUAL ALLUSIONS WRITTEN BY ANYONE HERE, OR OF THE ROTTING DECAY OF MY FALSE SELF. DON'T YOU SEE THAT IT IS GOOD THAT I AM NOT IN DENIAL ANY LONGER? THAT IS A MAJOR STEP FOR ME. THAT IS ALL I CAN ASK OF MYSELF AT FIRST. NOW I NEED TO MOVE FORWARD BEGINNING WITH ACCEPTING WHAT I TRULY AM INSIDE. I AM NOT TRULY A WHORE, NOT IN BEHAVIOR AT LEAST, OR HAVEN'T BEEN SINCE I GOT MARRIED ANYWAY, ONLY IN MY MIND. BECAUSE I HAVE ONLY ACTED PROMISCUOUSLY TWICE IN THE PAST FIFTEEN YEARS OF MY MARRIAGE (NOT SO AWFUL, CONSIDERING THE FACT THAT I HAVE THIS ILLNESS IS NOT MY FAULT, AND NONE OF THE PROFESSIONALS EVER EXPLAINED TO ME WHEN I WAS 20 WHAT THE ILLNESS WAS AND WHAT CAUSED IT WHEN I WAS IN THERAPY BACK THEN! THOUGH I RECOGNIZE NOW FROM MY MOST RECENT THERAPY THAT IT IS MY RESPONSIBILITY TO GET RID OF THIS ILLNESS, NOW THAT IT IS HAS BEEN EXPLAINED TO ME THAT I STILL HAVE THIS ILLNESS AND EXACTLY WHAT THE ILLNESS IS. BUT WHEN THOSE TWO EVENTS HAPPENED, I HAD NO CLUE I WAS BPD! THE FIRST TIME I ACTED ON MY SEXUAL DESIRE WAS BASICALLY JUST ME FLIRTING WITH A YOUNGER GUY (WITH LONGISH BLONDE HAIR AND A LIKING FOR GOOD ROCK MUSIC THE SAME AS ME). YES, I ALLOWED MYSELF TO BE PUT IN A DANGEROUS SITUATION, BUT I REALLY DIDN'T THINK IT WAS DANGEROUS AT ALL! WE WERE JUST SUDDENLY LEFT ALONE IN MY APARTMENT -- THAT WAS NOT PLANNED BY ME. TRUE I WAS EXCITED WE WERE ALONE, AND I WANTED HIM, BUT THEN HE SUDDENLY BASICALLY STARTED IN ON ME SEXUALLY VERY QUICKLY AS SOON AS WE WERE ALONE, AND WHEN I TRIED TO BREAK FREE OF HIM, HE WAS ABLE TO KEEP HIS GRIP PHYSICALLY WHERE HE WANTED IT FOR A LITTLE WHILE. I FROZE OUT OF FEAR BASICALLY FOR A MOMENT. THEN I REALIZED WHAT THE HELL AM I LETTING HIM DO THIS TO ME FOR? AND I TOLD HIM TO STOP AND FINALLY HE DID, AND THEN HE WAS VERY ANGRY WITH ME AND THE REST OF THE NIGHT HE TERRORIZED ME BY SHOWING ME HAD A KNIFE AND SAYING THAT HE COULD RAPE ME IF HE WANTED TO. I TOLD HIM THAT WAS NOT NECESSARY AS HE WAS ATTRACTIVE ENOUGH THAT ANY GIRL WOULD WANT HIM, SO HE DIDN'T NEED ME. THIS DID NOT WORK. HE WAS ANGRY BECAUSE I HAD TEASED HIM. I FELT GUILTY, SO THEN HE WAS MAKING ME GIVE HIM ALCOHOL ALL NIGHT. I WOULDN'T AT FIRST BECAUSE I THOUGHT HE WOULD GET MORE AND MORE OUT OF CONTROL, BUT THEN I THOUGHT MAYBE HE WOULD END UP PASSING OUT, AND THAT WE WOULD BE DESIRABLE SO THAT I COULD GET HIM OFF MY BACK. THE ONLY QUESTION LEFT WOULD BE HOW TO GET HIM OUT OF MY APARTMENT. MY HUSBAND WAS DUE TO RETURN FROM HIS WEEKEND AWAY TRIP THAT MORNING. HE EVEN CALLED WHILE THE GUY WAS THERE TO SAY HE WAS ON HIS WAY HOME. I DID NOT TELL HIM WHAT WAS HAPPENING BECAUSE I WAS AFRAID THE GUY WOULD USE HIS KNIFE ON ME. I DID NOT CALL THE COPS BECAUSE I WAS AFRAID THE GUY WOULD EITHER USE HIS KNIFE ON ME PLUS I WAS AFRAID OF WHAT WOULD HAPPEN TO ME FOR GIVING HIM ALCOHOL AS A MINOR (HE WAS UNDER 21 -- HE SAID 18, I WAS 28) AND I WAS ALSO AFRAID OF MY HUSBAND FINDING OUT THAT WAY INSTEAD OF BY ME TELLING HIMSELF, WHICH I DID AS SOON AS HE GOT HOME. BY THAT TIME, I HAD CALLED MY BROTHER-IN-LAW WHOSE FRIEND THE GUY WAS, AND ASKED HIM TO COME AND PICK HIM UP ASAP WHILE THE GUY WAS ASLEEP I DID THIS. THE GUY HAD TERRORIZED ME ALL NIGHT. HE MADE ME PLAY "END OF THE NIGHT" BY THE DOORS OVER AND OVER AGAIN, REPETITIOUSLY UNTIL I FELT NAUSEATED BY THE FUCKING SONG. HE KEPT TRYING OVER AND OVER TO KISS AND RAPE ME, AND I KEPT JUST PUSHING HIM AWAY AND TRYING TO ACT THREATENING TOWARDS HIM ABOUT IT, AND THEN OFFERING HIM DRINK TO DISTRACT HIM. IT WAS A NIGHTMARE WITHOUT END!!!! I HAD NO IDEA HE WAS GOING TO BE A NIGHTMARE. I THOUGHT HE WAS HARMLESS -- HE WAS SO MUCH YOUNGER AND EVEN SMALLER IN STATURE THAN ME, KIND OF SKINNY AND SHORTER THAN ME, AND SO MUCH YOUNGER! HE REMINDED ME OF MY HUSBAND WHEN HE WAS MUCH YOUNGER. I TOLD HIM THAT AT ONE POINT. OKAY, SO THAT GUY IN THE RESTAURANT TWO DAYS AGO WAS JUST A DEAD RINGER FOR THIS GUY, EXCEPT HE WAS TALLER AND LARGER IN STATURE, AND I GOT PANICKED BECAUSE HE TRIGGERED THAT FEELING OF TERROR IN ME THAT I HAD ENDURED FROM 9PM - 6AM THAT NIGHT. I HAD NEVER DEALT WITH WHAT HAPPENED BECAUSE I WAS TOO ASHAMED TO TALK ABOUT IT WITH ANYONE UNTIL A COUPLE OF MONTHS AGO. I WAS FEARFUL OF BEING JUDGED, BECAUSE I ALREADY JUDGED MYSELF VERY HARSHLY ABOUT IT. I DID CONSIDER MYSELF AN AWFUL PERSON EVER SINCE THEN. IN CONSEQUENCE, I BEGAN TO SHUT DOWN MY SEXUALITY, AFRAID OF OTHER MEN DOING THE SAME THING. I LOST TOUCH WITH A WHOLE PART OF MYSELF, EVEN MORE SO THAN I HAD WHEN MY FATHER DIED, OR WHEN MY BEST FRIEND MOVED ACROSS THE COUNTRY, OR WHEN MY OTHER FRIEND DUMPED ME, OR WHEN MY MOTHER PRIED INTO MY DIARY AND THEN PUMMELED MY CHEST BECAUSE I HAD WRITTEN THAT I HATED HER BOYFRIEND BECAUSE HE WAS AN ASSHOLE BECAUSE HE TOLD ME THAT MY REPORT CARD WASN'T GOOD ENOUGH BECAUSE I HAD GOTTEN ALL A'S AND TWO B'S AND WHY WEREN'T THE TWO B'S A'S??? NICE FATHER FIGURE TO HAVE FOR EIGHTEEN YEARS. PLUS HE WAS INAPPROPRIATE WITH ME IN A SEXUALLY VERBAL WAY WHEN MY MOTHER WAS OUT OF EARSHOT, TOWARDS THE END OF THEIR RELATIONSHIP. PLUS THEY BOTH SAID HE COULD NEVER REPLACE MY FATHER (DUH), YET HE INTERFERED IN MY LIFE A FEW TIMES ANYWAY AS THOUGH HE SUCH RIGHTS, SUCH AS WHEN THEY CAUGHT ME IN BED WITH ONE OF MY BOYFRIENDS (WE WERE BOTH DRUNK) AS A TEENAGER AND HE MADE ME FEEL ASHAMED OF THAT, BUT I THINK HE WAS MORE INTERESTED IN THE POWER TRIP OF THE WHOLE THING, SINCE HE WAS TELLING MY BOYFRIEND, "SO YOU THINK YOU'RE A MAN, HUH?" ETC. WE HADN'T EVEN DONE HARDLY ANYTHING, BUT DID THEY CARE? MY MOTHER ACTED LIKE I DIDN'T DESERVE TO HAVE A MAN OF MY OWN, YET SHE HAD ONE (THE SAME ONE, GRANTED) EVERY WEEKEND AT NIGHT WHILE I WAS ASLEEP IN THE ROOM NEXT TO MY BEDROOM! WHEN THEY WERE AT IT I COULD HEAR THEM VERY CLEARLY (I USED TO PUT MY HEADPHONES ON) AND YET I WASN'T SUPPOSED TO BE SEXUAL WITH A GUY. DOUBLE STANDARD. THE SECOND TIME I WAS PROMISCUOUS IN BEHAVIOR WAS STILL HARDLY WHAT I WOULD LABEL AS BRAZENLY SO. THAT BEING ME GIVING A CO-WRITTEN POEM TO SOMEONE ABOUT HOW MUCH WE LOVED HIS MUSIC, AND ME ALSO GIVING A CD-R OF MY MUSIC TO HIM, AND THEN POSTING A LITTLE ON THE INTERNET ON HOW EROTIC SOME OF THEIR MUSIC WAS. WELL, WHY WAS THAT TAKEN SO WRONGLY? AFTER ALL, HE WAS THE ONE WHO WROTE THE LYRICS, INCLUDING THOSE WORDS THAT WERE DAMNED EROTIC! IS THAT MY FAULT? I NEVER EXPECTED IT TO BE TAKEN AS A FLIRTATION REALLY. I DID HOPE FOR A REPLY FROM THIS MUSICIAN, AND I DID BEGIN TO OBSESS ABOUT THAT A BIT. BUT STILL, WAS THAT SUCH A CRIME? MY NATURE! I MEAN, I'M NOT THAT BAD OF A PERSON, AM I? I DIDN'T MEAN TO FEEL ATTRACTED TO HIM ON TOP OF WANTING A MUSICAL CONNECTION WITH SOMEONE I ADMIRED MUSICALLY. I DIDN'T MEAN TO AT ALL!! IT JUST HAPPENED, AND TOOK MY SO BY SURPRISE, AND I HAD HAD ONE AND HALF GIN AND TONICS, AND OK, I GAVE HIM THE LOOK OVER AT ONE POINT, JUST FOR FUN. I DIDN'T THINK HE'D NOTICE. BUT MOST OF THE TIME, I TRIED NOT TO LOOK AT HIM AT ALL, BECAUSE IT FELT WRONG, AND FELT TOO GREAT A TEMPTATION, AND I WAS SCARED HE WOULD REACT TO ME THE WAY I UNDERNEATH REALLY WAS DESIRING HIM. SO I KEPT ONLY GLANCING AT HIM QUICKLY. WAS THAT SUCH A CRIME, WHAT I DID? I MEAN, WHY DO YOU HATE ME SO MUCH, SW? WHY DO YOU NOT JUST WANT TO GET TO KNOW ME TO SEE IF YOU LIKE ME? WHY NOT SHOW ME YOURSELF TO BE A PERSON OF COMPASSION. I THOUGHT YOU WERE, BECAUSE YOU SAID YOU WROTE ON IN ABSENTIA ABOUT RAPISTS, CHILD MOLESTERS, CHILD ABUSERS, WIFE BEATERS, AND SERIAL KILLERS AND YOU CALLED THEM "RATHER UNPLEASANT THIRD PARTIES." SO I THOUGHT YOU MUST FEEL SOME KIND OF COMPASSION FOR PEOPLE AS VICTIMS OF SUCH. IF THERE'S NO DANGER FROM YOU TREATING ME AS A VICTIM, THEN WHY DO YOU TAUNT ME BY NOT EVER REALLY TALKING TO ME? WHY DON'T YOU AT LEAST EMAIL ME?!! IT'S NOT AS IF ANYTHING BAD CAN HAPPEN THROUGH THE EMAIL, THOUSANDS OF MILES AWAY FROM EACH OTHER MY GOD!! IT'S NOT LIKE EITHER OF US WILL EVER TOUCH EACH OTHER!! I AM NOT TRYING TO INITIATE A SEXUAL RELATIONSHIP WITH YOU, AS MUCH AS THAT WOULD BE TEMPTING IF YOU AND I WERE NOT ALREADY BOTH TAKEN AND THERE WAS NO DISTANCE. AND I DON'T UNDERSTAND WHY I AM SO INSIGNIFICANT TO YOU THAT YOU WOULDN'T EVEN BOTHER TO CORRESPOND WITH ME. I KNOW YOU'RE BUSY, BUT DAMN IT, SO IS EVERYONE!! I MEAN, AM I REALLY WORTH NOTHING TO YOU? WHAT MAKES ME SO HORRIBLE TO YOU? WHAT THE HELL IS YOUR AGENDA BY IGNORING ME? OR IF NONE OF THIS IS TRUE, THEN WHY DON'T YOU JUST EMAIL ME? IT WOULD BE SO EASY!! MY HUSBAND WON'T BE JEALOUS BECAUSE THERE'S NO REASON TO BE, WE'RE NOT GOING TO BE MEETING IN PERSON ANYWAY EVER. I JUST WANT TO COMMUNICATE VIA EMAIL. THERE'S NO DANGER IN THAT BECAUSE THERE'S TOO MUCH DISTANCE FOR THERE TO BE A CHANCE OF ANYTHING HAPPENING! CAN'T WE JUST BE PLATONIC FRIENDS, TALKING ABOUT MUSIC AND SUCH? OR DO YOU NOT THINK YOURSELF WORTH SUCH ATTENTION FROM ME? I DON'T KNOW!!!! YOU ARE DRIVING ME INSANE!! WILL YOU FINALLY JUST SAY SOMETHING TO ME DIRECTLY, ONCE AND FOR ALL? I REALLY LIKE WHO YOU APPEAR TO BE BUT RIGHT NOW I JUST FEEL FRUSTRATED WITH YOU. I AM NOT TRYING TO HAVE AN AFFAIR WITH YOU. I DO HAVE SELF CONTROL YOU KNOW. NOR WILL MY HUSBAND THINK BADLY OF US FOR EMAILING EACH OTHER. HOW CAN THEIR BE ANY DANGER? THAT WAS ALL IN MY HEAD FROM THAT RAPE EXPERIENCE I HAD. IT'S NOTHING TO DO WITH YOU OR ANYONE ELSE!! WHAT IS THE BARRIER HERE? CAN YOU PLEASE EXPLAIN IF THERE IS ONE EVEN? OR IF YOU JUST SIMPLY DON'T CARE? I KNOW YOU SAY YOU DONT CARE ABOUT YOUR FANS, BUT I AM SURE YOU CARE ABOUT PEOPLE. I ONLY WANTED TO CONTACT YOU BECAUSE I FELT A CONNECTION WITH YOU IN SOME WAY. MAYBE LOTS OF FANS FEEL THIS WAY, MAYBE I'M DELUSIONAL. BUT WHY DO I FEEL AS IF YOU ACT AS THOUGH YOU'RE ABOVE ME? BECAUSE YOU'RE NOT. I DO HAVE MY OWN TALENTS, I AM NOT "BELOW" YOU. JUST BECAUSE YOU HAVE ALL THAT FANCY EQUIPMENT AND HAVE DONE MORE THAN ME. WELL, I'VE DONE THINGS YOU HAVEN'T DONE THAT YOU DON'T EVEN KNOW ABOUT THAT ARE WONDERFUL. CAN'T YOU PLEASE JUST TALK TO ME AND STOP THIS ONCE AND FOR ALL FROM CONTINUING THIS STUPID WAY? I HATE IT. YOU COULD END THIS SO EASILY. ALL YOU HAVE TO DO IS EITHER REJECT ME OR ACCEPT ME. YET YOU DON'T DO EITHER. YOU KEEP ME IN LIMBO, WHICH IS A KIND OF TORTURE I WOULD NOT WISH ON ANYONE. PLEASE STOP THAT, IF YOU HAVE ANY KINDNESS IN YOUR HEART AT ALL! I JUST NEED A MUSICAL FATHER FIGURE WHO WON'T THREATEN ME WITH ANYTHING, JUST TALK TO ME AND BE A VERY PART TIME MENTOR TO ME THROUGH EMAIL, THAT'S ALL. PLEASE RECONSIDER??? CW.
I'm sorry, it's really just my daddy i want..i'm ruining you people's surrealistic adventure for my stupid illusion thinking i'm somehow going to have my daddy back by talking to someone who's not even him that's so stupid of me i'm just plain stupid and good for nothing that's plain i know i'm just stupid stupid stupid and goddamn fucking stupidest of all in this world i'm a halfwit who can't see out of her own eyes i'm blind i'm a cripple just like my mother who won't take responsibility for all the fucking crappy abuse she dished out for me all my fuking sad life oh i know ain't it sad get out the violins i'm the only fucking sufferer there is in this world those poor afghanistan women setting themselves on fire it's nothing compared to that i know i'm just a fucking whining little girl who can't let go of her daddy i know you hate apologies SW so i apologize for apologizing oh that's even better you stupid idiot girl
But there truly was no escape. Only by relenting on those cherished original ideals could a glimmer of hope be seen. Even then, the odds were stacked precariously against a successful outcome.
SO WHICH CARIBOU PIECE OF LYRIC APPLIES TO ME IN YOUR OPINION? OR TO YOU? I NEVER KNOW WHICH ONE(S) TO ZERO IN ON, AND THAT ALWAYS CONFUSES ME. I GOT A NEW BOOK, "THE ANGRY HEART" (SEE WEBSITE). I THINK IT WILL BE A VERY HELPFUL GUIDE. IT'S GOING TO BE HARD TO ACTUALLY PUT IT INTO ACTION, BUT I HAVE TO. IT'S NOT A PERSON, THOUGH. I WISH IT WERE. BELIEVE ME WHEN I TELL YOU, I'M TRYING, I'M TRYING SO VERY VERY VERY HARD TO STOP THESE NEGATIVE PATTERNS OF BEHAVIOR AND TO RECOVER FROM THIS ILLNESS. I NEVER EVEN KNEW I HAD THIS ILLNESS TILL A FEW MONTHS AGO, SO I'M TRYING TO HAVE SOME MERCY ON MYSELF, WHILE I KNOW THAT I HAVE TO CHANGE ANYWAY, DESPITE HOW I GOT THIS WAY. I KNOW I AM GUILTY OF BAD THINGS I'VE DONE, THOUGH THOSE PROFESSIONALS WHO I CONFIDE IN HAVE TOLD ME, "I'VE HEARD OF WORSE." WELL THAT'S REASSURING, A LITTLE. BUT I'M SO AFRAID OF THE PAIN OVERWHELMING ME TO THE POINT WHERE I JUST NO NOT KILL SOMEONE ELSE, BECAUSE THERE IS NO POINT IN THAT, THAT'S NOT WHERE THE POISON IS! IT'S INSIDE ME! SO NO, I COULD NEVER KILL SOMEONE ELSE - I DON'T EVEN HAVE IT IN ME - I CARE TOO MUCH ABOUT PEOPLE. MAYBE THAT'S PART OF MY PROBLEM, IS I CARE MORE ABOUT OTHER PEOPLE THAN MYSELF. I PUT EVERYONE ELSE ABOVE ME. I DON'T KNOW. I ACT SOMETIMES LIKE THAT'S NOT TRUE, BUT I NEVER REALLY BELIEVE IN IT. I'LL WRITE AGAIN LATER...PLEASE LET ME KNOW WHICH SONG IS MOST RELEVANT TO ME IN YOUR OPINION. THANKS.
OK. DID SOME THINKING AND RE-READ MY INCONSISTENT CONTRADICTORY WORDS. IT IS OBVIOUS I AM NOT ALWAYS TELLING MYSELF THE TRUTH, ISN'T IT? WELL THAT'S A GOOD RECOGNITION. IF ONLY I COULD ALWAYS ADMIT TO MYSELF WHEN I AM AND AM NOT TELLING MYSELF THE TRUTH! WELL, I'M WORKING ON THAT. ANYHOW, HERE'S A TRUTH: I AM SO FASCINATED/ OBSESSED WITH YOU SW BECAUSE YOU ARE EVERYTHING (AT LEAST IN WHAT YOU SHOW TO THE PUBLIC) THAT I WANT TO BE. YOU HAVE FREEDOM. YOU ARE SO SO SO TALENTED MUSICALLY AND LYRICALLY. YOU PRODUCE SO MUCH BEAUTIFUL MUSIC. YOU HAVE YOUR DREAM. YOU HAVE THE DREAM I GAVE UP LONG AGO. THAT IS WHAT IT REALLY IS THAT MAKES ME LOVE YOU IN A DIFFERENT WAY THAN THAT SEXUAL WAY THAT IS ONLY AN ILLUSION. BUT THE MUSIC PART, THAT'S NOT AN ILLUSION, THAT'S REAL, AT LEAST I'M PRETTY SURE IT IS. SO THAT IS THE REAL REASON I DON'T LET GO OF YOU, BECAUSE I DON'T WANT TO LET GO OF MY DREAM OF LIVING THE KIND OF DREAM YOU ARE LIVING. WHICH MY THERAPIST SAYS IS AN ESCAPE, WHICH MAY BE SOMEWHAT TRUE, FOR ME RIGHT NOW, IT WOULD BE. BUT IF I WERE TO RECOVER, THEN I WOULDN'T NEED IT AS AN ESCAPE, BUT INSTEAD I WOULD WANT IT FOR IT'S OWN SAKE. THAT WOULD BE A HEALTHY WAY TO APPROACH THE WHOLE THING OF MY WANTING TO CREATE MUSIC. TO GET RID OF THE POISON INSIDE OF ME BY WRITING IT ALL OUT (I SHOULD PROBABLY REALLY DO IT PRIVATELY -- THE ONLY REASON I'VE BEEN DOING IT HERE IS TO ASSURE MYSELF AND YOU THAT THERE IS NO DANGER FROM MEN, WHICH IS MIXED UP AND CONFUSED AND MIS-DIRECTED.) SO YEAH, I SHOULD JUST PRIVATELY JOURNAL ALL THE POISON OUT OF ME. THAT'S WHAT THE ANGRY HEART BOOK RECOMMENDS, AND MY THERAPIST. ONLY, AS I DO IT, BECAUSE MY EMOTIONS TEND TO OVERWHELM ME WHEN I WRITE THE FEELINGS I HAVE DEEP WITHIN ME, I FEEL AS IF I CAN'T FUNCTION PROPERLY IN MY HOME, LET ALONE OUT IN THE WORLD! SO THEN IT MAKES ME THINK I NEED TO ADMIT MYSELF TO A HOSPITAL FOR A WHILE IN ORDER TO SORT THINGS OUT EVEN MORE SAFELY, SO THAT MY HUSBAND AND SON DON'T HAVE TO BE SUBJECTED TO THE BRUNT OF ANGER THAT THEY DO NOT DESERVE TO BE SUBJECTED TO! LIKE YOU TOO DO NOT DESERVE TO BE SUBJECTED TO, SW! LIKE NO ONE DOES! BUT I AM AFRAID TO GO SOMEWHERE MY THERAPIST WON'T BE, BECAUSE SHE IS THE ONLY THERAPIST I HAVE EVER TRUSTED, AND I DON'T TRUST EASILY AT ALL. SO THAT PUTS ME IN A QUANDARY ABOUT WHAT IS THE RIGHT DIRECTION RIGHT NOW. OK. I WILL HAVE TO DISCUSS THIS WITH MY THERAPIST TONIGHT. SW, YOU ARE A WONDERFUL PERSON. I TAKE BACK ANYTHING NEGATIVE I SAID ABOUT YOU. IT IS OBVIOUS THAT I AM THE ONE WHO IS POISONOUS, NOT YOU, I KNOW THAT CERTAINLY, IF THERE'S ONE THING I'M CERTAIN OF! NO ONE ELSE DESERVES MY POISON. SO THE "BITCH" WILL RETREAT INTO A WAY TO RECOVER WITHOUT MESSING UP OTHER PEOPLE'S LIVES, NO MATTER HOW SUBTLY AS I SAID BEFORE. I KNOW NO OTHER WAY AT THIS POINT. THIS IS THE REAL SOLUTION, NOT YOU AND ME EMAILING EACH OTHER. I AM IN NO WAY READY FOR MUSICAL CONNECTIONS, IF I CAN'T EVEN MAKE A CONNECTION WITH MY TRUE SELF OR MY CLOSEST LOVED ONES! HA! AIN'T THAT THE TRUTH! I JUST HOPE THAT WHEREVER I FIND TO RETREAT TO (HOSPITAL), THAT THERE IS SOMEONE THERE I WILL FIND I CAN TRUST. IF THAT HAPPENS, I'LL MAKE IT. DESPITE THE FACT IT WILL BE HARD ON MY HUSBAND AND SON THAT I WILL BE AWAY, BUT I CANNOT STAND THE STRENGTH OF MY EMOTIONS IN THEIR PRESENCE. IT IS TOO MUCH. BECAUSE MOST OF THE TIME I AM NUMB, I NEVER HEAL. I NUMB MYSELF BY HURTING MY SELF, OR BY DRUG USE, OR YES, EVEN WITH SEX. THOSE ARE ALL ATTEMPTS JUST TO ESCAPE THE INEVITABLE TASK I MUST FACE: MY OWN POISON WITHIN, AND GET RID OF IT, AND ONLY THEN WILL I BE READY TO ENGAGE THE WORLD IN A MEANINGFUL AND LOVING WAY, AS MY TRUE SELF EMERGES IN A NEW WAY, AND I BECOME WHOLE, INSTEAD OF SPLIT LIKE I NOW AM. END OF TRUTH SOLILOQUY...
You can always see the man but you cant always see his dogs
its cold outside. the snow falls and melts and falls again. someone is outside fiddling with a crude green umbrella, the tree outside. poor tree. we love it, we love it, but it must me cold, outside. when you crawl under the snow though, its not cold anymore. but its hard to get out, you know , once you're under there. its like falling asleep, theres no control. and when someone comes and wakes you up with a knife, its too late. to late to escape, but why escape when its so much hotter inside than out?
FIRSTLY CAN'T BELIEVE I FOUND ANOTHER PARALLEL ANOTHER CONNECTION IT BLOWS MY MIND IS IT REAL? CAN IT BE REAL? THE PARALLELS NEVER CEASE, THEY AMAZE ME AND SCARE A PART OF ME. THE TELL TALE HEART WAS THERE LONG AGO AND I NEVER SAW IT UNTIL YESTERDAY I ALMOST FELL OFF MY CHAIR...AND NOW FOR SOMETHING COMPLETELY DIFFERENT..........................OK I'LL GO INSIDE--I'M BURNING UP....I'M HESITANT TO CONTINUE THIS...IT'S HOTTER THAN HELL IN THERE ACTUALLY, FEELS VERY VERY DANGEROUS TO BE INSIDE THIS TUNNEL AND WHAT'S HERE? OR WHAT DO I WANT TO BE HERE? THAT'S EVEN SCARIER IT IS DEEPEST DARKEST SECRET I WILL NOW OWN TO YOU, JUST BE MERCIFUL, JUST DON'T JUDGE ME, PLEASE...HERE GOES, I THINK I'M READY TO OWN THIS BUT IT must must must BE KEPT SECRET DON'T YOU DARE TELL ANYONE OK? PROMISE ME!!! READY...OK HERE GOES....OH SHIT, I'VE GOT TO STOP THE FEAR FROM COMING UP IN MY THROAT...OK... YOU KNOW WHAT'S REALLY THE SICKEST THING INSIDE ME? YOU REALLY REALLY REALLY WANT TO KNOW? HERE IT IS...BUT FIRST A DISCLAIMER...THIS WAS WRITTEN FROM MY POINT OF VIEW...BUT IT EXPRESSES ONLY MY PERCEPTION, THE ONE I AM LOATHE TO OWN, THE ONE I FEEL DISGUST AT MYSELF FOR YET CANNOT DENY ANY LONGER BECAUSE I LED MYSELF TO IT THROUGH ALL THOSE LYRICAL THREADS AND THEN I WENT PSYCHOTIC TRANSIENTLY BECAUSE OF IT. IT'S STILL VERY HARD TO READ THIS. IT'S THE MOST DISTURBING THING I'VE EVER WRITTEN IT. IT'S ESPECIALLY HARD TO WRITE IT OUT AGAIN. BUT MAYBE THAT'S WHAT I'M SUPPOSED TO DO TO HEAL, TO FACE IT, TO GET INSIDE OF IT I MUST LET MYSELF LOOK AT IT AGAIN...I HAVE KEPT THIS HIDDEN DEEP IN A LOCKED DRAWER FOR AGES SINCE I FIRST WROTE IT. I BECAME EMILY FOR ONE NIGHT AND FOUND A HUGE BLACK AND BLUE BRUISE ON MY RIGHT INNER THIGH WITH RED SCRATCH MARKS ON IT THE NEXT MORNING...I FELT SEE THROUGH AFTER WRITING THIS I STILL HAVE NOT REVEALED IT HERE, IT'S SO HARD, SO HARD, SO MUCH RESISTANCE!!! I'M TRYING TO BE BRAVE, COURAGEOUS, SO HERE GOES (THIS TIME I REALLY WILL SUBMIT IT HERE). READY? READY? PLEASE DON'T HATE ME!!... new phase YOUR PUNISHMENT TONIGHT THE SEDUCTION COME HERE YOU'VE GOT SOMETHING IN STORE YOU KNOW EXACTLY WHAT IT IS... MY WORD, YOU'RE SO EXCITED, YOU CAN'T EAT? WHEN WILL I GIVE IT YOU? WHEN WILL IT COME? AS SOON YOU FEEL IT SWEET SWEET PAIN ACROSS MY CHEEKS THIS IS THE WAY THE ONLY WAY TO GET WHAT YOU NEED WHAT YOU COME FOR YOU CAN ONLY GET IT HERE HERE, COME INSIDE OF IT IT'S WARM INSIDE MY KITCHEN I KNOW YOU WANT IT KNEEL DOWN NOW BEFORE ME WHILE I JUST STRIKE YOU WITH MY AXE.
NOW I'M FEELING IT THAT ACHING INSIDE IT'S DANGEROUS AND SCARY AND YET GOD I WANT IT IT'S SO DEMEANING HUMILIATING BUT IT'S THE ONLY THING THAT MAKES ME OPEN UP ISN'T THAT SICK CAUSE I ONLY GET WET THIS WAY I'M SO SCREWED UP AREN'T I? BLUE VELVET-SWIMMING POOL. OH MY GOD. I'M SUPPOSED TO ACCEPT THIS PART OF ME?? OWN IT?? OK. OK. OK. IT'S ALRIGHT. THERE'S NOTHING WRONG. WE'RE ALL EQUAL (????REALLY????) NOT THERE. THAT'S NOT EQUAL AT ALL. THAT'S SUBMISSION PURE AND UNADULTERATED.
NOW I'VE NUMBED MYSELF AGAIN. I SWALLOWED THEM BUT THEY WON'T KILL ME, THEY'VE JUST NUMBED ME. I'M ALONE AGAIN. I DIDN'T EVEN CHECK MY MAILBOX FOR BF CD. I HAD AN IMPULSE TO CALL AN OLD FRIEND, HE'S A LITTLE CRAZY SOMETIMES LIKE ME. HE HAD A BAD ACID TRIP TOO A LONG TIME AGO AT THE SCHOOL OF MUSIC BERKELEE IN BOSTON. I WAS AFRAID OF HIM FOR THE PAST FEW YEARS, BUT NOW ALL OF A SUDDEN I'M NOT, BECAUSE I'M STARTING TO SEE THINGS LIKE HE DOES MAYBE...PLUS HE'S MY HUSBAND'S BEST FRIEND SINCE GRADE SCHOOL. I TOLD MY HUSBAND AND HE'S HAPPY HE'S COMING TO VISIT TOMORROW AFTERNOON. I CAN'T BELIEVE I CAN TYPE RIGHT NOW. BUT I'M A SECRETARY, SO I DO 80WPM, AND I'M PRETTY GOOD AT IT, HUH? SLEEPINESS IS OVERCOMING ME SOON, SO I'LL BE SIGNING OFF SOON, BUT THE BITCH IS GONE. I'M SO HUMBLE AND SUBMISSIVE, AND I KNOW I HAVE TO TRANSFORM MY FATHER INTO ANOTHER FATHER. ONE WHO IS FORGIVING AND NOT PUNISHING, LIKE MINE WAS. I THOUGHT BEING HIT ACROSS THE FACE WAS A GIFT FROM MY FATHER BECAUSE I WAS SO INFATUATED WITH HIM, BLINDED BY THE FACT THAT HE WAS MY HANDSOME FATHER. I THOUGHT HIM HUMILIATING ME AND MAKING ME NOT TALK, ALMOST BINDING AND GAGGING ME, THOUGH NOT PHYSICALLY, WAS THE ONLY WAY MEN COULD BE. BUT I HAVE TO FIND FAITH THAT IT'S NOT TRUE, OR I'LL BE DAMNED TO AN ETERNITY OF HUMILIATION AND PUNISHMENT. I HAVE TO FIND FAITH IN A FORGIVING GOD, UNLIKE THE ONE WHO SAID MY FATHER WENT TO HELL BECAUSE HE WAS A SINNER AND AGNOSTIC. MY FATHER LOST ONE HIS EYES IN A CAR CRASH THAT WAS HIS FAULT, HE WAS DRUNK AFTER FISHING ALL NIGHT WITH HIS BROTHER ON THE ISLE OF WIGHT AND FORGOT HE WASN'T IN AMERICA ANYMORE AND DROVE ONT HE WRONG SIDE OF THE ROAD, HEADLONG COLLISION INTO A WOMAN WHOSE RIBS GOT BROKNE. HE WAS FINE EXCEPT HE LOST HIS EYE ON THE GEARSHIFT. 1977, I THINK IT WAS. HIS COMPANY WENT BANKCRUTP AND HE LOST HIS JOB. HE DRANK EVERYNIGHT AND WENT DOWN ON MY MOTHER WHEN I WAS IN THE ROOM. HE WAS OBLIVIOUS TO ME MOST OF THE TIME. EXCEPT WHEN I WAS BAD. THEN HE NOTICED ME. I SEE NOW HOW I WAS PROGRAMMED, TRAINED AS IT WERE. I HAVE TO FORGIVE MYSELF FIRST FOR BEING A LOST SHEEP, FORSAKING GOD BECAUSE I MISUNDERSTOOD HIS MESSAGE THROUGH THAT LOUSY FUNDAMENTALIST IDEA THAT EVERYONE EXCEPT EVANGELICALS WENT TO HELL ON EARTH. NO RAPTURE FOR ANYONE ELSE. WELL THAT'S BULLSHIT, I KNEW THAT LONG AGO. BUT THEN I COULDN'T FIND GOD ANYMORE, I GOT LOST. PRODIGAL. SEX, DRUGS AND MUSIC BECAME MY GODS. THEY SAVED ME FROM MY PAIN. AT LEAST MOMENTARILY. NOW THEY DON'T WORK ANYMORE, NOT EVEN MUSIC, MUCH. I'M LEFT TO FIND MY OWN ESCAPE. BUT FOR NOW I'LL SLEEP AGAIN. BUT THERE'S HOPE FOR ME. POOR COUTRNEY SHE'S SO LOST. HER FATHER HATED HER YOU KNOW. HE WAS A RAODIE FOR THE DEAD, RUMORED SHE WAS GIVEN LSD AS A CHILD, I KNOW SHE ACTSOUT A LOT (I ACT IN). I DON'T EXCUSE HER FOR THAT TOTALLY BUT MAYBE SHE DOESN'T UNDERSTAND ANYTHING ABOUT HERSELF. MAYBE SHE'S EVEN MORE LOST THAN I AM. SHE JUST NEEDS HELP. A COMPASSIONATE PERSON WITH A FIRM HAND WHO WIL LHELPHER OUT OF HER OWN MAZE OF MESSINESS AND CONFUSION. SHE'S PARANOID LIKE I WAS A LITTLE WHILE AGO NOW. SHE SAYS SHE HAS NO SECURTY, THAT'S SYMBOLIC DON'T YOU THINK? SHE HAS NONE INSIDE HERSELF. I EMAILED MTV MY OPINION ABOUT IT ALL. POOR FRANCES BEAN. LIEK ME A LITTLE CAUSE SHE HAS NO DAD AAND HER MOMMY'S FREAKING ILL, BUT I FEEL FOR THEM BOTH YOU KNOW. COURNEY'S JUST A LITTLE GIRL TRYING SO HARD TO BE AN ADULT TO BE A MOM, AND SOMETMES SHE JUST CAN'T DO IT, SHE FAILS AT TIMES. BUT SHE'S NOT HITLER. SHE'S JUST GOT A HITELER INSIDE OF HER. FROM HER DAD. HER ABANDONEMENT MAKES HER BPDHER TRAUMA ADDED TO THAT. SEE? LIKE ME, BUT DIFFERENT. I FEEL FOR THAT WOMAN. I DONT' CARE WHAT VERYEONE ELSE SAYS OR EVEN WAHT YOU THINK HERE. I FEEL FOR HER, LIKE I FEEL FOR MYSELF NOW FINALLY. I'M JUST LIKE HER, ONLY DIFFERENT. A LITTLE GIRL TRYING SO HARD TO GROW UP AND BE A WOMAN A MOTHER A WIFE. IT'S SO HARD WHEN YOU HAD NO ROLE MODEL TO COUNT ON, LEFT ALONE ALL THE TIME. I HAD TO CREATE MY OWN ROLE MODELS, AND OK I CHOSE BAD ONES ONCE I THOUGHT THAT GOD HAD FORSAKEN ME AND MY FATHER. I THOUGHT I'LL NEVER SEE HIM AGAIN UNLESS I GO TO HELL. WELL, HELL I'VE BEEN HEADED FOR EVERY SINCE HAVEN'T I? BUT NO MORE. I CAN'T SACRIFICE MYSELF A MARTYR IN ANY DIRECTION ANYMORE. I JUST NEED TO HUMBLE MYSELF AND OPEN UP TO SOME FAITH IN LOVE, WHAT IT IS. JOHN LENNON'S WISDOM, SOME OF IT. SOME OF STEVEN WILSON'S. TELL TALE HEART. SOME OF WHOEVER SHAKES ME OUT OF IT. BUT SPIRIT, THAT'S THE NEXT STAGE. THE BLUE GREEN. NOTTHE GREEN SEXUAL STAGE ANYMORE. I HAV ETO LEAVE IT NOW. OR WAS THAT CALCINATION? I DON'T KNOW. I'M STILL A LITTLE CONFUSED, BUT TRYING HARD TO GET IT. MORRISON WASN'T RIGHT ABOUT THAT MUCH YOU KNOW. JUST A LITTLE. NEITSCZHE WAS A HERMIT AND ILL. DOSTOYVESKY MADE ME FALL IN LOVE WITH MY HUSBAND. btw, HOW DID YOU KNOW NOTES FROM THE UNDERGROUND WAS THE BOOK THAT MADE ME FALL IN LOVE WITH MY HUSBAND? HOW DIDYOU KNOW THAT A YALE PROFESSOR COMPARED MY MUSIC WITH SATIE'S WHEN I ENTERED THAT COMPETITION? (i DIDN'T WIN,BUT I GOT HONORABLE METNTION, WHICH WAS KIND OF NICE, THOUGH IRRELEVEANT RIGHT NOW ISN'T IT.) I'M SJUST AMAZED AT HOW MUCH OF ME IS HERE IN BETEWEEN ALL THE BLOOD AND GORE. I HAD A NIGHTMARE AT 17 THAT I CAME HOME AND THERE WERE ALL THESE REPORTERS OUTSIDE AND WHEN I WENT INSIDE, MY MOTHER AND BROTHER WERE DEAD, AND THEIR BODY PARTS WERE STREWN ALL OVER THE HOUSE, EVERYWHERE. I CUT MY LEGS UP AROUND THAT SAME TIME IN THE BATHROOM. NO WONDER. I WAS AFRAD OF LOSING EVERYONE. NO OTHER FAMILY IN THIS COUNTRY I WOULD HAVE BEEN A TRUE ORPHAN. BUT I'M STILL A KIND OF ORPHAN NOW BCAUSE MY MOM AND BROTHER WON'T SPEAK TO ME HARDLY NOW, BECAUSE I OD'D ON XANAX A COUPLE OF WEEKS AGOOR MORE AND BECAUSE I CONFRONTED MY MOTHER'S TREATMENT OF ME AS A CHILD AND MY BROTHER WAS ALWAYS HER FAVORITE, JUST LIKE MY DAD ALWAYS FAVORRED HIM. SHOULD HAVE BEEN A SON. OK NOW I'M PITYING MYSELF AGAIN. I'LL STOP THAT. THAT'S NOTTHE WAY IS IT? NO. IT'S OK. I'M NOT DAISY, I'M NOT LISA, I'M NOT EVEN REALLY SUZANNA. I'M JUST ME. NOT EMILY ANYMORE EITHER. JUST ME. REGRESSED BUT MOVING TOWARD GROWTH NOW VERY VERY SLOWLY BECAUSE ITS PAINFUL FUCK ITS PAINFUL BEFORE I WANTED TO SMASH EVERYTHING IN THE HOUSE BUT I RESTRAINED MYSELF. I NEED A RUBBER ROOM AT TIMES, HAHA. THEN I COULD GET IT OUT PHYSCIALLY WITHOUT HARMING ANYONE. LOVE THE WORLD. LOVE YOU. LOVE YOU ALL IN IT 'CAUSE YOU CAN BE BEAUTIFUL EVEN IF NOT ALWAYS. JUST LIKE I COULD BE THOUGH NOT ALWAYS...
ONE MORE THING...I HAD ADREAM TEH OTHER DAY (THE DAY AFTER I VISITED MY WORKPLACE TO MEET LIZ AND C FOR LUNCH AND HAD THAT PANIC TRIGGER BY THAT YOUNG "BEATUIFUL" MAN. THE DREAM WAS THAT I WAS AT MY WORKPLACE, AND THE WORD "NAZI" WAS EVERYWHERE TO BE SEEN!!! MY WORKPLACE HAD BECOME NAZI!!!!! I WAS SO REVILED I WOKE UP AND WROTE IT DOWN. I THINK THE NAZI PART IS A PART OF ME INSIDE THAT IS NAZI, THAT MAKES ME SUBMIT AND SUFFER. THAT'S THE PART I NEED TO PURGE OR TRANSFORM OR WHATEVER. EXCORCISE LIKE A DEMON. NO NAZI'S ALLOWED ANYMORE!! FORGIVING GOD THOUGH IS WELCOME...END OF TRUTH TRANSMISSION.
Harold it plays music of Indians, those the brain, that it comes from the marcature ny, zzzzzzzz goes. And I have smoked straight. The resounds of song more better, Mayans little zzzzz more stupider...
And the hour has especiero. It will be, the one that arrived the Joe Gibbs, when for much buisnesß$$&
Dream 2-18-04 Part 1: I dreamt that Will and I were at his house in the front room (living room) alone, and were having sex on the floor (the way I like it). I looked up at one point at the door, and asked him, "Wait a minute, is the door locked?" He said, "No, but no one's going to come in here." Then his mom (who is a devout Catholic) walked in! She abruptly turned around, saying something like, "Oh!" in surprise and embarrassment. She then came back though, and said, "Look, this is OK, but not in this room. If you want to do this, you can use the back room. That would be fine." So we got up and went to the back room (we were actually clothed), and I saw Rachel (one of Will's sisters) near the room. I looked in the room and saw it was FULL of stuff, in other words, there was no room to DO anything there! Rachel saw me looking at the room in disappointment, and said, "I know, the room's not ready yet. There's too much stuff in there that needs to be cleaned out first." Part 2: I dreamt that me and Will were in line outside a bar/club of some sort. While in line, I was laughing and generally enjoying the idea of being looked at. I was dressed a little suggestively and acting quite the coy flirt, but not with anyone in particular, just to be seen that way, even though I was with Will, it did not seem to be directed at him in particular. When we got inside (we had to wait a while), we sat at a table where a middle aged man sat drinking beers. He seemed a friendly sort, so we didn't mind sitting there. He began talking then, to me. Without really looking at me, he said he had seen me outside in line. Then he said, "You know what I see when I look at you? I see a nineteen year old girl who ------" (I don't remember this part too well now, something about my "exhibitionism" tendency and flirtatiousness), "and when I look in her eyes, I see she's high." I was surprised that this guy knew that I was high, and I began to feel a little "exposed." Then he said, "So what led you to the Borderline? What made you become Suzanna (from Girl, Interrupted, played by Winona Ryder)?" and I suddenly blurted out, "I lost my father was I was 12!" and began to cry like a baby. This softened the counselor's attitude (I felt like he was a counselor), and he reached out over the table and softly put his hand on mine. I felt him to be empathetic and kind and feeling for me. Then I woke up. P.S. Lastnight, I read about half of a chapter from "Ego and Archetype" by Edward Edinger: in particular, Ch. 3, "The Encounter With The Self." Then I stopped at that point and switched to reading the book of Job in my new St. Joseph's Catholic Bible that Will's parents gave me on February 9th. I then went to bed, and wished to myself that I too could have a dream that would reveal things to me and aid me to see how to integrate the two parts of myself I constantly feel are in opposition: my sexuality and my spirituality. These I feel have been constantly warring each other, as though they were enemies. This dream, I feel, was my attempt to get them to be "friends." But the dream was telling me the room wasn't ready for me and Will to have sex in it yet, so it seems that there's some cleaning up I need to do first before that room can be available to me. But there is a promise there, because Will's mom represented in that dream my spirituality and acceptance of myself, while the room itself represented the "bridge" from my spirituality to my sexuality and acceptance of myself. It appears there are objects on the "Bridge" that are still barriers, in the way, of this integration happening, but at least now I know that the time is near when it can happen. I just need to do a little "room clearing?" What that means is unclear to me a little, but maybe I should think about what the barriers are, those things cluttering up that room. What are they?? End
Here's what the 8-ball says: Hello wedges. We meant to limit expenses in the lowest superficial hands not in Biskuitfla, but with the lie it has in how much Biskuite there can be. H was in the bottle, ha!
Well I felt myself see the eye about cinema of the volume of my wrong trunk of the training about friend in lake Jackson, TX. All located the Indian model and seem to have an air which was waived for it perfomance. Then the cut with seeing was I and some foreigners to project itself to tackle a shark fish with our bright hands.
...bin nibht hier nitbinhier ich bin ninnt nicht nicht bin nit nierttt abinn nit hia ssaa binnnit ehier n - bin nihct hier...
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Chapter 6