Now is the time to be creative, to create

                 Angels transcend your eyes. Holy, hole-less, pure brilliant white wings beat slowly, imperceptibly. Wings wider than your peripheral vision. Your eyes cannot wait. You do not live a length of time that could allow a complete sensual perception of a single angel's wing.

Whirls of grey in the white cloud dust, you are mist and skin. You are expanding toward every edge of the Earth's sky. We are on the sunny side. Celestial rotation is on pause. Gravity is on pause.

Pause yourself, please. You feel about in your soft and hollow body. I name your name. I cannot feel your body.

I want you to know, you are waiting on me and I am waiting on you. Your skin feels like mine. The wet, far clouds are cold. We are wet and far and cold. We are waiting on the wind and the fire light.

I am falling back to the Earth. I am falling toward a green, wet land.




You pick up a hammer by the dark wooden handle. You grip in firmly. You lift it high above your head. You stare intently at the surface before you. With all of your strength, you bring the steel hammer head down onto the silver shining serene lamb.

Your face breaks, a reflection of breathtaking destruction. Your hands fall apart. By annihilating your most precious possession, you have taken yourself from what has possessed you.



Negro hands walking on Road 220 look like Walt Whitman's dire fantasy. Black and purple iridescent geese honk and take flight at 6:07 in the evening over the shady sloshing River.

William Telle sits on a pine rocking chair on the porch of his rented one-room cabin whittling a knife. The song birds whistle the daylight goodbye. William grimaces at his aching hands. He knows he will not finish his whittling before dark. He sighs and gazes upon the dim lavender country, his attention drawn to the trembling silhouettes of bare branches. A dank breeze drapes wild strands of brown hair across William's right eye and ruby nose. He closes his lids and breathes deeply.

He wanders inside and lies, back down, onto the straw-filled mattress. He feels cold inside. He opens his pants and feels his penis. He strokes it. It becomes erect. He pants loudly.  His body tightens and convulses. He rolls onto his side and comes onto the dirty wooden floor. His jaw hangs open. He cannot think. He lies limp on his back and begins to fall asleep.

Walk Whipman pulls out a long lead pencil and sketches the eastern horizon. He is an hour's walk west of Durham. He has a noon meeting there with First National president, John Quinn. He has a fire-roasted rabbit leg and three ripe wild tomatoes in his pack.

Dick President wipes his hiney in the fourth floor ballroom restroom at the Paramount Hotel.

There is a dollop of blood on the otherwise clean bright tiles and the porcelain sink.




The 804 year-old Tree begins to worry that its time is up. It is saddened that this was its first conscious thought. It wishes that it had memories. It wonders what to refer to itself as, other than I, me, or myself. It is aware of the thousands of other trees and plants in this forest. It does not know it is the oldest. Every thought it has seems to last a lifetime. It does not think in English. It does not think in words or symbols.

Grreeenn and brroowwnn fill the air, and white water and dense light are ugly rainbows. Juicy beetles and crunchy ants and pulpy grubs wriggle and writhe on the litter of leaves and seeds and needles.
I hear ambient hissing and whispering in the forest. I see nothing. My feet crackle and squish the rotting ground with each careful step. The sky shifts south, a wheel of gray and white splashed by blue.



I

am not crazy.

I am

going to

the Farmers' Market today,

while it is open.


I am not obsessed.

I am not possessed.

I am not mentally ill.

I am not mentally retarded.


I am in full control of my actions.

I exercise my free will.

I am morally pure and correct.


I am not depressed. I just don't want to work on anything difficult. I want all my problems solved in one easy step. I don't want any responsibility or judgement.

I want some perfect soft grass. I want homeostasis, perfect health. I want to be perfect forever.

I want to be pure light. I want to be God.

I want a chauffeur. I want a beautiful loving wife. I want an endless supply of money that I give to every non-profit charity. Nobody needs anything anymore. Nobody wants anything.

We all eat spaghetti. We all play with Legos. We all climb a mountain. We all sleep in a big comfy tent together, happy and perfect forever.

The End <3 :p  Piepie, Sheep ewe layder {;

Places where I want to go to

1 Australia

2 Phillipines

3 "East Indies"

4 Pacific Islands

5 Japan

6 Taiwan

7 China

8 India

9 Sri Lanka

10 Mesopotamia

11 Ethiopia [earliest human fossil site]

12 The Nile

13 Serengeti

14 Namib desert coast and ghost town

15 The Congo

16 The Great Rift Valley

17 Egypt

18 The Sahara

19 Mediterranian Sea

20 Ancient Greek ruins

21 Ancient Roman ruins

22 Mongolia

23 Siberian Taiga

24 North Pole

25 Germany

26 Switzerland

27 France

28 Sweden

29 Holland

30 Prague

31 The United Kingdom

32 Ireland

33 Spain

34 Iceland

35 Greenland

36 Madagascar

37 South Pole

38 Chile

39 Argentina

40 Brazil

41 Uruguay

42 Peru [Machu Picchu]

43 Ecuador

44 The Amazon River and Forest

45 Belize

46 Panama Canal

47 Caribbean

48 Cuba

49 Jamaica

50 Haiti

51 Mayan Ruins

52 Aztec Ruins

53 Mexico City

54 Costa Rica

55 Florida Everglades

56 Oak Alley Plantation

57 New York City

58 Washington DC

59 Massachusetts

60 Maine

61 Canada [Major cities, Cape Breton, Niagara Falls, Bay of Fundy, Banff...]

62 Great Lakes

63 North Dakota

64 Mt. Rushmore

65 Trail of Tears

66 Appalachian Mountains

67 Adirondack Park

68 Denver

69 Garden of the Gods

70 Yellowstone

71 Montana

72 Salt Lake City

73 Oregon

74 Washington State

75 Alaska

76 Hawaii

77 California parks [deserts and redwoods]

..... That's it!

Connection, i found Spotify again........ here now

Meal delay


Medley of Vegetables

Melody and a Land of gropes, gross meat men fingering fondling, dirty street pizza place grease and sex and dead rats and roaches and fucking Adele stepmom, Dead People I knew, I never know, anything is better than my thoughts free of reality, feeling the nothing, creeping, shriveling, groveling, biting, pissing, shitting, grinning, heaving, humping, seething, clenching, wheezing, happy,

I stand up on the grey sidewalk. The sky is light grey. It is mid-morning. I have nothing to do all day. I'm not really hungry. I think I should eat something good soon.

I wonder where my mother is.

I wonder where we will be in 20 years.

I wonder how it feels to be anyone else. Do others feel hunger the same as I do?

What is pain? Why is there pain? What is wrong? What is wanting?

How simple can I make this?

OK, so... I want to be alive as long as I can.

So... I want to feel good... I want to feel healthy...

I want to be pretty sure that I am doing something that is somehow better than anything else I could be doing at this moment...


I enjoy some female voices very much. "Myth" by Beach House is playing on this laptop.

Female is different than male.

Mom talked about her Diabetes doctor visit. A woman, young, not a doctor, named Ashley. Mom said she liked her and she likes the young women working there.

I thought of young women working in healthcare. I thought of ASMR videos and their creators. I wonder how many women working in healthcare know about ASMR and are involved with it somehow.

I thought of telling Mom that young women are my favourite kind of people.



U. Ur a pony. Ur up. Ursula is bear. A German bear. Female. Mother. I can say. I can see. U are an apple. I have a penis. I cannot care. I have monkeys in my maple tummy. I want to eat meat now.

I am going to die in the next 100 years. Maybe the next 10 seconds. Maybe my soul "Me" will exist forever, beyond time and space. Beyond eternity. Beyond, Better than God. More powerful and intelligent.


I want to fuck shit cunt fuck I kill fuck I can feel a baby going through my urethra I want to explode I want to cum I want my penis to implode and be gone with my testicles and libido and be free and eternal and die and ride a horse than has no physical dimensions and is omniscient and wonderful and kind and groovy and runs forever toward beautiful places and light that exists perfectly and never gets worse and changes into whatever it must change into to fulfill a pattern of efficiency and order... I can see these things.
I want to invent new languages and letters.

I know a girl. SHe is 11 years old. Her vagina is 5 centimeters.

I know I am wrong.

I do not know why.

I do not know what I need to do to make life as good as it can be.



I want to swing outside by a house and a trellis. THe sun shines. FLowers bloom. White silky petals, Petals are better than silk. SO soft that I die and come right back to say, I am happy and I want to die and have you seen the movie I am making in my mind?

I am so horny.

I know I want to read Plato right now I guess. I guess I don't know.


I know I need to eat something good like leaf veggies that are in the fridge.

If I want to live, and I do, I need to be clear about how I want to live,

I want to be clear with what I want to be and do.



Over the sun is a dung beetle feeding its son and dying on a flame.

He evaporates and becomes a part of the infinite everything.

He is never forgotten.



The end.

Bye, my name is Gregory Wredberg. I love you. No one knows. Later. Peace out, my friend.

Things I need to do to be myself, Things I cannot not do. I am myself, I love myself.

Sometimes I have not trusted myself to drive on highways, or faster than 30 miles an hour, or at all.

Sometimes I have felt like I would rather die than live like I have been living or feel as I have felt.

I prefer the past tense when communicating my habits, because I do not know the future; it may be totally different than the past.

I want to express only what is true. I want to express the truth of this passing moment.

I am planning to see a psychiatrist in 4 days.

I am listening to LCD Soundsystem's This Is Happening. This moment I hear "One Touch."

I want to skip work. I want to say I do not feel OK. I ......



I took a break from typing just now.

I feel OK. I am drinking green tea with some honey. I want to listen to Kimya Dawson, when she sings I got good at feeling bad, and that's why I'm still here.

I stopped the LCD Soundsystem CD.

I decided I do not want to shower... Or I realised I do not want to... for work. I think I will feel OK with not being freshly showered. I'll wear clean clothes. I am going to splash my face with water.

I watched and listened to a few Apprentice Eh vlogs. It seems they have moved to a downtown Toronto apartment way up high over looking the lake.

I really enjoyed those videos. I feel a friendship toward those people. I like that they record parts of their lives and share it with us/everybody... anyone who cares.

Hummmmmmmmmm....... Galaxy, 500, Universe.... Silly talk, Baby Wankers, Human Apple Pumpkin Tossers, Gay Blowjobs, annnnnnnnnnnnd Milk Moms and fun days and free tacos.


the end for now bybybybybybybybybybygw

High School Again, Waking and Fantasies

Hi you. It is greg wredberg.

I dont want to go to work to do. That must be painfully obvious to you... or anyone I guess.

I want to get my dick sucked hard. I dont know. I am afraid.... again... still.

I have been awake for between one and two hours.

I listened to ASMR girls until my phone died.

I was just lying in bed, wanting Mom to get in the shower so that I could feel some kind of relief... I guess. I know that she wont hear me being awake and typing I guess. She is done showering now.

And I very briefly imagined her being naked just for the purposes of showering but I immediately suppressed that thought, since it disgusts me and gives me no pleasure or satisfaction. Then I imagined Stacy, my therapist, naked. I imagined kissing and licking her on specific spots all over her body. I was enraptured by this fantasy I was having. Then in my mind, we made out for hours and fucked.

It was good. I felt good. Then I quickly came to this laptop to type the fantasy. I guess I was proud of the detail and focus. It lasted for a few minutes, that fantasy of Stacy. the "Stacy is my girlfriend."

Mom came into the room a few minutes ago, and we talked for a minute about waking up and staying awake.

There are 3 pets here. 2 dogs and 1 cat. I feel so strange. Like I am in high school again. I was happy on my days off, and I expressed to my mother. A couple of nights ago I put on a documentary about Jean Michel Basquiat. I watched a large portion and listened to a larger portion. I like him. Mom and I hung out and talked on the porch. I threw a tennis ball for Emerson..........


........................... Now I am researching how to recycle bedding, because Mom asked me to. I just told her I feel like I am in high school again. That is not a bad thing. It is good in some ways.

Maybe... I feel very strange and broken and love and poop and grump and fun and dog and funk and crumb.

The End.

Godliness and a Lioness at Purgatory Station

YOU wish you ... were better looking.


"Madame, are you ready to depart from the depot? It is ... just after half past noon."

"...." She, Madame, holds an index finger up toward Jonathan. She stares at the schedule of passengers on the bench beside herself.

She is poignantly still...

Suddenly, without ceremony or acknowledgment, she stirs from her trance, rises, grasps her luggage, and states with a hint of haste, "Yes, Jonathan. Whysoever would we delay another millimoment. Tardiness would be met with much chagrin by the council of Devonfallshireham."

"Yes, Madame."

"In any course, I have not the foggiest notion as to the cause of your reluctance toward this quite, may I say, intrepid endeavour to... placate the elder council members. They have certainly been put out in a rather grotesque manner, and our slowness to remedy this catastrophe is, in my honest and correct opinion, unforgivable."


- MEANWHILE IN THE UNTAMED EXPANSE OF NEW YOURK CITY! -

"IM GUNNA KILL MAHSELF!!! I CAINT DO ENUFF!!!!!!"

"Calm... down... Leroy..."

" !!! ... !!! ... ..."

"It... is... not... as... bad... as... all... that... is... it?"

"People sufferin' all over tha place... all the goddamn time, everywhere, consistently... constantly... And what!?? What I'm suppose to do? I cain't do nothin'...

"Right!? Am I right? ......."

"Well... let... me... see... here... Leroy... It seems... to me at least... that you may be... confusing... your... situation... as it were...

"Let's say... if I were... just... a little less... fortunate... maybe... just maybe... then... a bit of... understanding...

"Simply stated............."


And an angry ugly old stump. Where out and forth with and out right and Forth Right and Plain and Plaintive and Pitiful and Old and Implacable...

There it was in the swampy pits, the plumes of grog, the pains of grain and gravel and depths of ordinary slain placid flat arrays...

Purposeful places... Waiting a cloud belong, for long, furlong, a league, a row of buildings, an incorporated idealism, a ferocity of trees in the something summer of young enough but still knowing and adulterated, believing a trust of grape fields and store houses and shops and towns, and humble highways, retarded roads, loose money, realms of given and taken leads, for gone, for gotten, laid to bleed to death on the ruddy ruined earth land, supposedly owned by some people, entrusted, forsaken, alibis, too lifeless to lie anymore, afterwards, after thoughts...

Collusion beset in a lewd proclamation, befallen on a harem of scarce rural resources, the yellowing hay, the burned scars, the settings of brick and metal, the human ages, the hurting cattle, the arduous repetitive work hours, the cotton burrs on their wool socks, the blank television screens, the Wal-mart foreclosures, the bank eruption, the land and property seizures...

A lot of monkey business, lot of spies and dissent... fallow field of black puddles, acres of acrid soup, lead skies, leaders in Denial... blame for miles and miles, sodden diapers, blue blazing eyes, ears for no talkers... Bare... and bare... Lasting... last word...

Inviting a safe connection.

The End