Teenage Dolphin Learning How to Breathe: Aaron's Head

Aaron comes in. I meet him by the kitchen. We stand face to face an arm length away. He wipes away his beard with one motion of his right hand. I have a lighter in my right hand, and I ignite it and put the flame under his chin. It is made of wax and melts into light brown, creamy coffee drops. He stares straight ahead. Bubbles stream up in his eyeballs. I can see his pure white chin bone. His eyeballs drool out of the outer edges of his eye sockets. I cup both hands under his face. His liquid face pools up in my hands and dribbles through my fingers. Bones break apart and plop into my solid flesh bowl. I transfer what I can catch and carry into a pot on the stove. Aaron follows, stands behind me at the stove, and wraps his arms around my neck, holding himself up, head on my shoulder. His face regenerates and his beard grows back in a moment. His legs curl up, and his feet step on his back. He walks up himself, then flips around in front of me to stand on the stove between the burners, while shrinking to half his original size. The melted face in the pot is frozen now. He points a gun-shaped hand at it, and it bursts into flames then disappears. He looks up and forward past everything. He seems powerfully calm and centered. He stamps on the stove forcefully and loudly, pulverizing his feet and continues banging down with magical muscles until his body up to his neck is dust, which I am breathing in heavily. I get really woozy and can barely keep my eyes open. He smiles sincerely at first, then smiles wildly and cackles madly. I fall backwards, as if fainting. The apartment dematerializes and instead of falling down I am flying up through a cloudy, blue sky looking down at Earth. Everything blends together at that height, and human things and natural things are indistinguishable. Aaron's head floats into my chest. I feel like I am, about to orgasm, but very sick at the same time. I feel Aaron's atoms rush through me sticking to the walls of my blood vessels. I get prickly and sweaty, then I break through the atmosphere and freeze almost instantly. My hands snap off just above the wrist. I can see Aaron's face in the palms. He looks like he is having a weird and pleasing dream. I try to high five his face, but I miss, since he is my hands. The stars twinkle intensely and unnaturally. Aaron's faces scream in stereo, looking at scenes behind me, so I open my eyes wide enough for the rest of my head to vanish. All the stars are collapsing towards us. It feels good to be the center of this universe. It gets really hot, and my eyeballs float into Aaron's mouths, left eye into right hand mouth, right eye into left hand mouth. My body crumples up neatly into nothing, because of gravity or something. While Aaron is chewing he seems bored, even if I can't see anymore. The hands clap the loudest sound ever and become one hand containing Aaron's face. It makes a painfully tight fist and becomes Aaron's head. The hair is flowing from the bottom, where the neck would be. There is no nose, mouth, or ears. The skin is firm and hollow. The eyes are on top of the head surrounded evenly by the beard hair. The hairs are singed by the quickly approaching stars. The eyes appear panicked then absorb all the stars as they arrive. This universe is dark, except in the direction that Aaron looks. The stars shine out of his eyes. An unbelievably large hammer smashes Aaron's head. Now, the stars are free, after millions of eons of torturous confinement in microscopic universes. Each one is given its own universe to repopulate with whatever shit it likes, a new credit card with a ten thousand dollar limit, twenty dollars cash, and a pair of blue jeans available in a variety of outrageous and fun colors. Aaron winks again like a Jerk. I give up my soul to roller skate on the ice. I fall of course, but my diaper is full, so... ... sploosh. Be back in about ten, if you can count, you can't count on me. Use my freckles as constellations, and remember your first ancestor, and why he or she saw the clear night sky and vomited upward, like a teenage dolphin learning how to breathe.

Game of thrones, I know some characters and what is going on, outside on the plains and in the forests.

Story.

Suffering stopped just in time for bedtime. Jole ate the's grandmother pie. She makes it with cherry rhubarb 

1213 ranch 620 ste 101

lakeway blvd, 620 right, 1/4 mile on left independece, across from boats

deliver checks to aunt jan's office so they can be fedexed to her in california!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

If God Loves Me, Complete this train

The cheer leader got off the airplane at 5 to 6 o'clock. She was too hungry to chew the chicken stew. She had to move her heavy bowels. She left the gate, walked past Sbarro, Cinnabon, Wendy's, Burgerking, and Panda Express, then she thought about her mother and watching T.V. with her, falling asleep at the same boring quiet parts. Her friends were all at home cleaning their socks and roping cows for Sunday dinner. She her the girl plans her dress for Sunday morning service, not stilettos nor a halter top. She doesn't even own them things or her mother would have burned them in the wash room sink and tied up the ashes in a plastic bag and driven the bag to the mall to put it at the bottom of the fullest dumpster. She, Purterf, puts on four layers of pink peach magenta eye shadow blush foundationer. She texts Kevin at 11:49, hoping he is still awake, but it's Saturday, so he would be if he loved her.

Oh, God. I felt I had an honest insight into creation and transcendence. Humans are too sentient for it to be a random evolutionary development. None of this could be an accident. None of this could have not been created for a reason. If not, then I am lost. Then all is lost. I melt into reality. Nothing separates me killing someone from me helping to conceive someone. Life is as complex as a lizard shitting on a rock. A dead star creating a new star is as creative as a man choking a woman with his penis and showing the entire world.
So, there is a purpose for everything. There's one Youtube channel recording and posting everything and there's crying and laughter from behind a screen, something that can never be seen nor sensed in any way, but it is the only truth and it brings on its own satisfaction and it is always creating and always it will have an appetite. Content never runs dry. Free to achieve fulfillment. Against itself, it craves and banishes and believes. It is full, and it has empty space to fill. It is full of emptiness and when it empties itself it is full again.

working on house construction, the frame is done, roof on, someone and i are pushing something like a refrigerator across the ground trying to hook it up,

Dream

I'm at

Dream

I got an email from a performer asking me to bartend a party with only soft drinks. It paid $10 and $10 later for gas. I decided not to do it. Later I was walking in a city, the area looked like UT. I saw a show happening, and looked inside. It was the party I had turned down, so I went inside. There was a large room with maybe 20 people in it and a stage at the far end. A guy in drag wearing several highheeled shoes on one foot, so that he was on a stilt, and holding something long, danced for us and some people in the crowd danced. I ended up wearing the same things as the performer, and for his finale he did a one handed handstand and yelled out that no one else was doing it, then he saw me doing it too. There was one other guy in the room then. Then the performer took off some of his costume and sat in chair with some others at a table on the stage. I went to him and talked. He was the one who sent the email. He had large bones and looked middle eastern.

hafta think bout it.

Slow Transition toward Infinity

Are eternity and timelessness the same?

"I'm glad God is alive." I'm reading The Confessions of St. Augustine. I do not know which I feel more deeply, that God must exist for anything else to exist, or that everything just exists without need for God.

We are even smaller than we seem. What is distraction? If everything was answered, what would happen next, what else is would there be to do? That thought is not helpful. We will never know everything. Everything will never be solved. Nothing will ever be perfect, so there will always be something to do. Some things should be done more than other things. Some things are more important and deserve more attention than other things. It is a critically important decision. How will I spend my living time? Which things deserve my attention? Are they material things? Are they ideas? Is it a combination? Are balance and order the most important goals? How are balance and order achieved? What is the relationship between my emotions and my thoughts? Should I try to control one more than the other? Are they the same things? Will I always harbor conflict between my natural instincts and my learned morals and behaviors? Is this life a constant struggle? Is this blog helping me? Are these thoughts and questions making anything less confusing, more clear?

I cannot say. I have to think bout it. Meditation, things become clear, when my mind becomes clear. I have to lay on the floor. I have to be at peace. I have to purify myself. I have to complete subtle transitions toward wholeness, purity. I have to be less proud, more honest..

before the last one, yes.. t... p.... t... whuss

Have to say some horrible things. I want to fuck m y mother. YOu push I'll go. at 11:47. Get fuckin drunker than shit fuck in a dick hole retard labia, suck, butts.

greg great super great... fronk... fupper, blubbper... fogiyoerspiqjbvxfgpuryp... that is how my goaesssss

DAHDDAY!?

Lost any good balls! today Dahdday?! Can you feel my balls! in Space,man?!

Thast it.

Leg up

My legs won't wake up.

You don't have to know anything about me in order to swear upon my mother's grave.

I have Indian padding in my birthday. There is something smelly about my fish pants.

I don't know anything about you, but I still swear upon your mother's grave.

knot know

thot it was 4 but it is but i thot it was 5 but it is just below four in the morning.... I don t know how to live here. i canoot go to sleep. I cannot live here much longer. I cannot see iron man 3 today because i have to sleep instead. i have to text tim and maybe mom too, i hope they dont really care. i do not care about my own life. i have to stare at the keyboard to type this. i am not a good typer. i can do something well, but i have ever hardly tried to to do many things ever then not really u didnt do that much in the 45 years from since you had to be alive in the times since you were conceived like a baby. i am afraid of the cars and the people and the blunt hard objects and shrp tools and heavy machines and fast moving things and high places and crazy people and guns and weapons and drugs and peoples.... i do want to die, but not until i figure something out about tonight. i do not want to go to sleep.

i thought about the graphic novel for tim and i. I got excited abut the land living space story. a tree i thought of titles. Ten home tree. magic tiny magic animals spirits. people like me, like me, i am like me, i like me. I love dodger leigh. she head her head she thinks and said her thoughts. she is a nice real person and i love who she is online. I am her when i see the life she lived on the internet, it is repeated living long forever, young and able. evrything. it is very late. very late. I do not want to see iron man. I have to be an answer seeker. I have to find an answer and make an answer the words are annoying. keyboards are dirty. im dirty my dirt is dirty my life and mind and love are dirty. Learn to be what i am. I think i am better now for not sleeping but i do not know how much of a choice this has beeen. It is almost 430 am, and i do not know how i came where i came i am came to the tv the life the world, i came from here. i dont know what i am or what is the real thing, or what is real or how to say perfectly the things i think about, i think around all idea that i think i dont think directly to the idea of existence, why is this, what is the reason, why do this, what is it to do, why do that, why not that, where did this come from, why is anything? Just those things, I cannot say them, type them, by my voice, by my self, my mind, my being. noose around my teeth, broken everything, everyone is mean, mean things are mean to everyone who is nice, so convoluted thought, too many words to say no thing, to say what i am being now, to say what i think is the right real now thing. I think dodger is me, i have been thoroughly explained. thru the do of science and makers and creators and explainers, and they have been hard at work. what does the difference make? what does it matter? is there any reason. i do knot know any people. I am feel more alone. inside me i am eternal of alone, and then i live around everyone and we all know the same life and we all live a new different life, our lives are never the same, the nature of the reality we live according to our tests of the reality and of our selves... i do knot know... How much are they what is a real person? do we do anything right? is this what we are? how do we control ourselves? how do we imagine what to be, and then make them of our mind the us of now in reality... does something?????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????? this is only explain, i can do this. I have to try. This is an option. This has to be correctted. Correct fact. I am making sure that this is real. I am true to the state of me now. i have to change. Will to survive. Will to change. Change survive to thrive, do not be fake. Be better. You can do better. I am god, I will be like god. I will be like the purpose of all of us doing these things for a very good reason, because we have to and we want to. I need to slow down. I have to change the thing, the thing I am. I am going to realize that I am doing this for life for the real life that we have to live because it is us and we have one choice that we have to choose, or there is the awful love of nothing and the flat reality of now.... We are going there to the round edges, we are seeing below the bottom and we are getting to the pinnacle of the other side, the side behind the side we imagine as the other side, the infinite loop of knowing and accepting and remembering and looking and finding with a feeling that lives beyond and behind us when we feel ourselves... nice, you win. Youre a winner, you find a life that is perfect in every phuggin weigh.... OK, I was serious, but now I am done funnyjoking around with the time.... What am i... bye

Black magic

The Wicked Image

Black Magic and the Spellbreakers

Forced substance and false weight or false substance and forced weight...

I dunno why but I can't care

Sing it out, its easy

Lighter than emptiness

Hollow air

Why not just do it

real is real, magic is love

I belong to a club but they wont have me as a member

I do not want to believe in my memories, I imagine them all

nothing has ever happened, nothing will ever happen

I am imagining everything right now, that is what is

that is all that this is

this is all that is

this is it

the


Love without mercy

More than love, it's everything we see and do
More than those, it's everything those things are too
and everything they see and doo and what those are too

I work in the dentist office. I sell cookies and cakes and cremes. We eyeball the manufacturing district with science and schemes and plastic dreams...

rerepublish

I love you more than god hates me
the lightning is gold and green
sacrifice your ghostly sea

Anono Froightful Free Wrightful

So Goddamn Freegen, Dodger 200 times daily, From 2011. She's in a hotel. I'm drinking Chamomile tea. I cannot say wwhat I say. I do not say any say. I have Spanglish on silent. This Paz woman is berry pretty. This is not a diary style entry. But it is. I am nothing now. I have to fire myself. I want to say, I do not know now from then. I am my own love of my life. I read Aaron letter "You are not a world unto yourself." I thought I was getting to know what that means. I am useless. No one is called I do not go anywhare. Thank you Gregory, My name is John!!!!!!!!!!! FUcki!! mFucking Dick, What fuck lovely silver sicking such suck fuck a deeeeeeeeeeeeckckckckckckckckckckc!!!!! I made an appointment for an interview at Aaron's Rental place. Uhh no uhh youre uhh you... just sit there. It was nice to see Kate Winslet vomit on coffee table last night. I wanted her to vomit again. Just peace, just a peace of love in the light of the life of the earth of the last never being...

GO DONE

sow whateber

It's harder to live with myself. It's hard to handle myself.
Love me up or love me down. I don't care, as long as we go home.
I was in love with Dodger Leigh last night. I tried to read my blog but the internet died.
My failing life is in tune with the failing earth. I'm not totally sad.
There are still things to do, things to love.
To Aaron: When's the last time you went to the dentist and masturbated? Separately.
I am going to go for a walk at dawn. I'm drinking coffee and Bailey's coffee creamer.
A freight train derailed in east Austin. A water mane broke at McNeil High School.
Two and half inches fell at the airport. Marble Falls saw golfball sized hail.
Hi, Emmy. What does Emmy stand for from the awards show?
It's understandable. It's unstandable. I can't even sit it. Their conciousness.  All the places you'll go.
All the people you'll see. They want to be me.  Help them help me help you help us.
I am never going to lie again. I am going to learn how to say exactly what I want.
In 2,009, exactly the same thing happened. All of these have heightened North Korea alarm.
How A mazing it would be if I were A zactly what It be. I wonder how you can expect it to guide me hoh oh oh ohh oh oh oh oh oh oh woah oh woah woah woah oh oh oh ommmmme.
OHHH, I could......... Nohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh {: !!!!!!!!!
I like you like you like me like we like we.

Grimes wakes up late and stumbles through the dark of her bedroom into her bathroom. She squints in the light and pulls her baggy men's shirt over her head. She unhooks her plain lacy white bra. She unbuttons and unzips her shorts and dances out of them. She lifts her feet up one at a time to pull her socks off and toss them on the counter. The linoleum is cold , so she jumps onto the tub rug. She reaches down for the faucet handles and turns the hot water all the way up and steam begins the rise immediately. She rubs her face, runs her fingers through her black and blonde hair, and shivers slightly all over, wiggling from her fingers and toes. She turns the hot water down and steps tentatively into the tub. She is tense when the water first hits her prickly skin, but she loosens up in waves, then lets out a long sigh and sags her shoulders and head, letting her hair soak and release streams along her body, then off into the drain, off to everywhere.
The water is off and a small pool under the faucet gets smaller. Grimes drips. She stretches and looks at the ceiling, white, close to peeling. She throws aside the liner and curtain and hops onto the rug, reaching for a towel. A drop from her elbow lands on a roll of toilet paper and spreads through it to four times its original diameter. Grimes rubs herself thoroughly and roughly with the pinkish fluffy towel, not used since it was last washed and dried. But, now on to the boring stuffs... Does it need...?
Then the old clunker pulls up. Grimes takes another bite of favorite cereal, I don't know what it is, with soy milk, as the car honks, like a dying goose, because it is. I M just what I know. Grimes runs out the front door down the porch steps, her shirt hanging around the middle of her upper right around, exposing her bra strap and an occasional elbow. The car door is swung open by anonymous arm as Grimes crosses the border from lawn to sidewalk, and she clutches the inside handle and slams it closed as she plops on the bucket seat, her hair whipping across her flushed face.
Maybe I should... do what I should do. But I think I'm not sure of what that is right now.
Again I think of the past and it seems all right. Again I think of the future and I don't see anything at all.
I'm thinking, I'm thinking, I'm thinking, I, I, I-I, I-I-I... I.
Grimes climbs into the top bunk, replaces her clothes with a one-day-old quilt, and dives off the second floor into the dayglowing youngdeep pool at the wildnight party for dancers and halflivers.

2,024, Us, Fantasy, and Reality

In the year 2,024, gasoline costs $14.59 a gallon, and I walk everywhere I go. I haven't had a car in 8 years.  
I have a stock pile of vegetables and grain in a dirt cellar. I live in a stone hut 45 miles from the nearest metropolitan area. I've lived there for 5 and a half years. A friend, who I met two years earlier, took me there, introduced me to the owner and I went back so many times that we decided I should stay. I hunt, gather, and farm around the area most of the time. I cook fairly often. I help other members of the community plan our days, our work and recreation. We go on adventures and have parties. We make crafts and craft stories. From a 2,013 perspective, we are basically camping and having a great time 24/7. We visit other communities, however far our group is willing to travel, and tell our stories and teach what we have learned. Nature tortures us often, but still not as often as we torture each other and ourselves with mindlessness and mischief. Life is almost never dull. Ten years ago, this life would seem painfully dull, but still strangely desirable. Now, we revel and flourish in our peaceful, harmonious, simple lives.

Thend

afterwords,

Reality, fantasy, reality, fantasy, reality, fantasy, reality, fantasy, reality, fantasy, reality, fantasy, reality, it's tearing me up, it's tearing me up, fantasy, reality, fantasy, reality, fantasy, reality, fantasy, reality, fantasy, reality, fantasy, reality, fantasy, reality, fantasy, reality tearing me up, tearing me up, me up, me up.
Fantasy and reality.

dram

DOnt kill myself dooint koil moiself dont kerr merrsrrf derrnt kerr merrserr

Do Not Do Nothing! Oh, Oh, K! KK. K! It is O.K! I am not O.K.!

Ity's OKay! I dooo noooot Knooooow! I do KNot now! Nooooooooooo!!!!!

I doooo nooottttttttttt nnnnnnnnnnnoooooooooooooooooooeeeeeeeeeeeee AHHHHHHHH!!!!!

IUam SiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiIIIIII leennnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttt......

It will be allllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll  nIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIighttttttttttttttt

BE ALL THE REST OK!!!

kkkkk, issss this all. Kiss, Kayyyyysssss, Meeeghhhhhhhhhhh.

Day Do DOOoooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo.  ARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRGGHHHHHHHHHHH... Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee.

Darm. It's flaky. Flake make. Klake. Are. Far... Kward. Sard... ehhhhhhhhhhhh bleeeeeeeeeessssssss... uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.... duhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.... sehhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh...

I am a gun. Guhhhhhhhh. Blake, my foreskiiiiiii, ist going drunnnnnnnnnnnn.... O.

Kroowwwww!!!!!! Beeennnyyy. Firannnnnn!!!! Chimmm Chimmmmm,, Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.!!!!!

Blase, Blaysssss!!! Ko.... I am forrrrrrrrriiiinnnnggg..............................................

My Fan

My fan dribbles then shoots. He wakes like a tiger feasting in the jungle. He has a bone through his nose and shrunken heads around his neck. He sticks posters of famous sportsmen to sappy trees. The sun is the brightest spotlight we have. My fan knows his world is bigger than the rest. He is the most famous world among his worlds. Right now his first priority is to skewer three frogs and drink their blood. Then he can find another place to sleep until dark.

I don't what to add. Know what? My fan likes everything I do not. Ahhhhhh, haha. Some funny? I just fell out of my car. I picked my fan up at the Ugandan/Texan Airport. He is six feet and ten inches tall. He told a really dumb, boring story on the way to church. He crunched on the fried chicken skin as if he had never eaten a dead animal. We held hands on the way to the parking garage, and he told me he was afraid of leprechauns. I wanted to roll my eyes, but I just said I was afraid of sharks and the ocean in general.

He had to be at school by 9 am. He ate cookies for breakfast, because I had had too much to to drink the night before. Uncle Respus met us at the gate with the second half of the project. He was a real stand up guy, even while seated. I kissed my fan on the cheek and said there was no way he could fail...................... duh... oops.

Frite

Koala Killa, Monkey Butts, In too deep, In the ass dood hole readsy to fuck? Hoe Happy, My slap brain gram, doop, JUice toolips, ... Heollo, in this ever pussy wirld, I gripe about the insane prices of sucking her tit, I am losing my hands to the hate of the demon of gross girl goiter gurgle. Fire his dimple. I am sober I cry to the you, Open little negro dimonds. He is an old life going to hell I sleep It's money in the time i sheer the trine burden. Nope no one chokes. Penis greef, Noone fools demonize sinics. I inflate homo presbyterians. Hope shone Gear blown Hope happy, Homo, hegro, ny megro. Shit allova her body. Kill the fire girl. She fates hear toes in the toon tonight. In a love, Time in dimond. It is in her folding chair, hammy, grapes heel, beenas in tropical loft loofa doop shit yoo huddle under two udders follicle eroded, In time I fear lotus brooms. Copulate a hero doozen, Dozin' feeler fool hope you see my readyness hipe the gravy in the jerry funck tribe.

Forst or green fuck negroes in the holla wood as hard as demon cracks. Blake foster jilly human free son. Joke forest, human face waste. Faerie noodle time indigest a copper node. Greg has delicate feces in the topple bun fung all bee hoochies. Hobbit grumpy He shits the flood. Hope umpire notice the little boy 9 year old fecund dick fluid, He forget the reaming rape of ass blood nigga fucking human dumps, ripped anus an olive grew twenty bleeding finite metres. Hymen demon under groan hysterectomy wife with yellow fuck shits in the time really wired un fairy vampire nipple sac of tube jello just in the yelling at last hurculees jump into the open earth dew pool.

Dumpster. Hi, my girly friend. Just falling off the girth of tall skwy rapers. Is the nearest youth central pope belly in the herse was the young tungsten Opium scully, Mulder, Schoulder peeps, Peel a nickel out of the back skin fat lip hump her grimy nice greasy hiney.

He's about to go to the fair. In Hiroshima, the tipsy wait staff stills moon silly wets. Moosy troop host peers solidify no oak fern mission camps.

Crease pleasant pleasing Halifax Palestine Hermetic book. It is a free write. I know how to see the only real opposition to eyeball literature page wents. Possibly I have no lung. I hope I feel too tired to try to cry this time before the night I feel too scared to cry I am waiting for grownups to help my fertile tiny herman toast inside my up my hump in the front. Is a scary tim, Group at the golden mall in the morning the pole is forming huddle. Must hungry feeble people fire burn eyeballs hate very untrusted poop for assinine science to beg and forget the life of now and have no thing to be to do have a hunger a less much less, Have to have the real feeling of having the group love me free from determined undetermined fate face fuck me in the dick nope hate. Maybe feel he. Love the hero, he hipes the best reasons to live and feel and know and determine the furture of life among us on our own planetary unitary traveling human dust in the after glow hope reason rhythm notice love hope reason reasonable love hope hero hope love love, have it all, must love grow up hope love llama hero have a new better beloved human endeavor believe be awesome, hope to feel live see have hero health love believe belong have hope, love new neighbor, robots, pigs, nice little being, Beijing, Help, Life, little being, health belong have lovely life filled happiness in love... fire heat life everness

free free free write write write

I do this I do that i want to heal michele williams her yams her boobs her love, life, it begins with a body ends with a brain, she bellows, she blows, up a gut, up a suck. !!! Shit! She's the most sexy hot booty droppin hot bitch man golf in the hot in the hotel he is hott hot doop boop, she will hide and lite a fire inside my peen and go leen crunch and from her belly i see a frown upside down. She glows she fakes her orgasms but i know i will come in her hot hot hot hair and green allover her head with suck suck suck, and love in the night i have to go and feel her hot fuck min toes and greet the meeting mister ooooohhhh i love her!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!, she sexes me for honey money she sex in the head, she sex in the hot heart with sex in the yellow bed and bead and feed on my nip nip nip she sex I love be from her from her from her toes and love inside her fuck, her is language and fuck in sex i love gross greep greet noob, Love the gooble love to suck not snuck hot babie from her toes in her twat. I am so sorry for alowwing this to go on, Michele Williams, I hate to love this, It hates the hot love in the pits of cracks and nasty beds for young hot jugs and fossil groans and bones and sunken buddy lobbers. Body sobs.... her skin makes me cry ((((((incendiary))))))) i cried at the sex scene. intense movie intense movie... boobs sex boobs skin, facce face eyeeeessssssssssssssssss. actors act. fake it fake feel feel it. Pat comes home early, I cried, I wipe, the movie, masturbatory, elvish, fear, silence, alone, alone. Sad Sad sad sad sad. He man, actor, fake. neck beard, hot head. voice a voice a voice, hers. Pat here, scared, embarrassed, weerd weerd, fake, hide, minimize, shake, shakey, shakey, hide hide dive!

I am here alove. A lone. I heer, I am a fraied....... doo deep deeee, dooo dooop deeeep dooop..... alove alive, fun gun guts futs.... fucks her, alove alone alove.... nice deep, love.....

If I Were a Substitute Teacher (Ideally)

I mean no disrespect to my brother. I just wonder how I might handle the situation, which I hope never to be in, the situation of substitute teaching, I mean, at a public school in Austin, Texas.

I am sitting at the desk, colorfully, professionally, and cleanly dressed. I have written on the board, "RESPECT, LISTEN, LEARN, and LOVE." I draw a heart. "I am Mr. I don't know my name. It's Greg, but that means I could be thousands of people. Who do you know who's named Greg? Do you like that person, why or why not? What do YOU want to do with YOUR life?" Some of this is on the board and some is stuff I plan to say. I can read what's on the board and point to it. "Do you like movies or videos or both?" They say yes, I say why? I ask, where is the farthest place from here that you have been? Describe it in great detail and describe yourself and your thoughts at the time.

I get lost staring out the window, listening to their pencils move on papers. I imagine touching my penis. Not right there, but soon. I imagine some of the other penises in the room and some of the kids having sex with each other. They're not that young, maybe 14. I hate and disgust myself. I get really somber and they sense my mood change. The crafty ones try to take advantage of my mood. I erase the board. I think about going home and watching a movie. I think about going outside and eating junk food and throwing away a wrapper in the trash can. I think about the run on sentences, and I think about my thoughts and my life and directionlessness and these poor kids lives and the effect and anti-effect I am having on them.

I shuffle my feet and stare at the kids. Finally the bell rings and we all walk into the hall. I go to my car and feel happy. I drive slow and fast, and I am myself again. I listen to the music I like, and I want to move and scream.

My turnip, my turnip, my turnip trees

Yo, yo trees
Yo, yo fat trees
Yo, yo baby trees
Yo, yo mama trees
Yo yo ma trees

Yo, yo beautiful pyramids of trees
Yo, yo maternitrees
Yo, yo geometrees
Yo, yo yo-yo trees
Yo, yo my turnip trees
My turnip trees

Yo, yo maternitrees
Yo, yo geometrees
Yo maternitrees
Yo my turnip trees

My turnip, my turnip, my turnip trees

Beautiful Geometry of Trees

[this is not a Valentine]

I have such clean eyes
I cannot smell the leg between my thighs

I want music to come in me and change my color
No one eases my fear of the death of my mother

I slide along this earth as if I may live again
I may never die, if my life never does begin

Gregory, of the truth of Texas
I have no money for a Lexus

I meet a woman, who has four dogs
I have no desire - I have no restraint

I see men build houses not schools
People who do not question are fools

I am at the absolute bottom of shit
I follow a guttural whisper of wit

Please be mine - this is not a Valentine
Hands that grope bodies need to find a mind

Only grueling trials reveal perfection
Peace and clarity reward pure reflection

Coyotes Steal Sadness

Death brings you kisses dick.

Brain dead midget African albino.

There's no need for a suicide, ma'am. I'll kill you after I die.

There's no point in feeling anything. But I have to anyway since God is a damn dick.

Since I have no goddamned dick and just a sweet godblessed dick that tastes of fresh honeydipped strawberries, huh, Olivia Wilde, playing a stripper slash hooker, now I will take those 600 hundred blowjobs, prefferably before Monday, because I have an appointment in the Portal 2 universe for exclusive toilet contracts. Everyone poops, Olivia. You more than anybody. I do have a fetish for your feces, now let me mop up my penis and visit Microsoft Paint for a Rom Com and a little bubbly after wiping the grin off my mom's tears.

Carnival. Is that a place where people eat meat? I don't think anyone has a face that is not made of meat.

The trick is to not be asleep when you're awake.

One must train one's eyes to look at things as they are and notice everything.

That makes me sick. I can feel the bile creeping up into the back of my throat. I can almost gargle it. It feels chunky. Cheesy. It's hot, acidic.

Now try to grab clouds. Even when you can't see 'em, know they're there. Nowhere on Earth is the same as anywhere else on Earth.

You don't need hair. Everyone looks different at different times of day and night. Early morning is when God wipes his eyes and cracks his knuckles.

Rain comes down in various forms, in various eons, on various planets, in various universes. Sometimes, rain rains on humans. But only on Earth. Sometimes humans are under a roof when rain comes down. Sometimes feet get wet. Sometimes feet never get dry.

McBurger Salad, tomatoes and croutons.

I want to be a bad person right now. I don't want to remember what I will do, when later I feel different and want to be a good person and don't want to be discouraged by my memories of being a bad person and wanting to be a bad person.

I have to consider my future self. It comes down to going to sleep or looking at sex online.

I wish I were considerate and good my whole life. I wish I had a whole life. I want to be a baker. Or a baker's wife. I'd like my wife to be my neighbor.

Necklace made of semen. All his teeth are hollow and filled with rotten tree roots. I'ma very bady writer. Point into the white page.

Open windows are death traps. There is nothing worse than me and the internet. I am really very dead. I am like a post civil war ghost veteran with no balls and no heart and no brain and no eyes and no nose ... (just holes) and no mouth and no throat and no organs. I am very dry. I am hung up like a

poster... maybe a mountain. Maybe one cloud. Maybe a few tall trees. They have needs and cones. Home is the only love I need. Safe, beans, inside.

All at home now. I am an emotional hot potato. We're all kids. Failures are home, domes make fire. Coyotes steal sadness.

ChrumDay

Wet Asphalt Kills Careless Children

I'm a force field for your power wheels.

I feel death coming like suparstar inflation.

Pow Pow Powerwheels, Robots in DaSkies.

Brain Fudge Lighning Bugs in OutarSpace.

I forgot to forget I had forgotten.

I speak of Laura Silverman's modest bosom in my electric cherry syrup body hair remover chair.

What to do about the baby with no shoes.

Soak up the suds of bandwidth wavelength.

Silver Surfer Anal Bleaching Tokyo Rhythm Parolee Alphabetos in slinky parameters.

Bass Experiments with Robin Williams in a Suburban Timber Forest

Ask Later on Tuesday

                 I breathe wide open. My lungs are air vents. My rib cage is a busted open birdcage in the old lion's cage in the abandoned zoo in this once great city and now greatest city in this okay galaxy. Marion berries bleed in your cheeks. On the surface, butter slips like fake pancake flipping drips. Juice as high as a moon. Ask Marion, watch out for a better blue azure tiny beautiful eggs roll out of brown red and gold hens, free to roam around the house, although no one gets inside. Listless Abercrombie toaster waffles walk through a mall in dead winter as the atmosphere closes in on the helpless planet.
                  Hooray, hurrah, lights up his face, he's four years old today! Sprinkly twinkly heroic Bombay. Ask me about me later, I work, toadstools and Walmart, Ask me later, Where I am going, It is all forgotten, thus forgiven by default. Two sleds beg for more snow to cover their AstroTurf. Nothing in your stomach changes something in your brain.
                  About an hour later suits tangle glue feet smosh Elven silver puppies try to be noble and breed silky wormy desk monkeys look at scribble window plates and fires free pork taste tickle bugs run out forward grounded fault burst with opiate opaque shimmer flower tremble trample crumble demolish sinewy baked glazed frost porcupine fingertip auburn Felicia fuschia bramble grey dry dust pop cycle eucalyptus brazier frowned static Beluga scientist veiny soccer pattern on a paternal weakness slow tumor want a new brother bulbous face wishy washy Eskimow target lawn favor turn every other black colour seen and not understood violent questions purge through a vacuum straw and wait about a few million more hours to Ask.

Mom, he doesn't belong.

Mom, he doesn't belong.

I don't want to die. I keep dying. It's the same every day!

aqaaqaqaq2aq

b33qZ

Why is he still carrying you through the threshold?

Is our belonging just a fading ruse?

aaaaa... Listen to me, Son... I should know what I mean...

Terry was awake the whole time.

My sycophant intent is suppressed by the heavy light of truth.

Mom, the doors are too sparse.

I don't want to tell you. You should know. My face, face turns redder... and redder.

A red-skin man looks toward a cycloptic future, and I see the brown past in the backyard where the hairy balloon hangs from the tree that doesn't exist.

Subtle fortunes mistake our good looks for wages deterred by uninformed loungers.

Mom, we can leave. Everything is so far, anyway. So far, we have not needed any information to freshen up our cloudy afternoon drives through ashy sodden lost woodlands cut by black/grey highways.

Let's go. Make it like 5:30. I'm a game. Sorry does not cut anything. We forgive and forget and forget faster than human population growth. Sorry to be a down stroke. One only rises from the down beat.

Suffering. Less fade. Dust layers reach from floor to ceiling. Abandon me, personalized identity option.

That's dumb, honey. Why don't we say this was the first try and go to the real one, when we feel like we're ready?

We feel like we're really ready.

Between My Lips (Folk Blues)

Leave everyone in their places, so no one will get mad
Look everyone in their faces, to see if they are sad

Wagonwheel, wagonwheel, mind you don't fall off the wagon wheel
We're all right, or be all right we will
Lest we fall off of the wagonwheel

Going out the back door like a silly dog
My mom's at school and I'm at home

Licking you completely with the thing between my lips
Nothing comes between us, 'cept the come that we come with

Talking dirty while my boots hang up to dry
Listening to nothing as the breezy day blows by........

all-eee-eee... all-eee-oooo... eeee-oooo... all-eee-eee, all-eee-ooo...

Simple Stupid Humor

Safe Solutions to Unsolvable Problems

Hot Fetal Bologna

Messy Condom Exchange

If you are hungry, go to the bathroom.

If you are sleepy, consume some food (maybe a pound of sugar and a gallon of espresso?)

If your bowels and bladder are full, go to bed...

The Feelings I Have Feelings

Nothing's real
when you feel
like a dangerous oven
with no legs
arms wrap tightly
around a bushel
of hummus and togas

Jeans cost $49
except when your
crotch leaks
a whitish fluid
on the 2nd floor
of a 12 acre mall
there is a heaven-like
atmosphere of sales
and bargain bins

Hair brushes pass over
the no-fly landfills
eat the teeth of combs
compact colon makes
an arduous helicopter rescue
skies are grayish-blue
when ships displace
the locks are heavy
been nosy like
an alphalpha hampster

Tofu drumsticks for
the girl with my name
all over her face

I have to shit. Shit SHit SHOIT!
\
Listen to Nervana, Hate society

Bag of shit. Herd you like PUSSY!

I pound sausage. Plausage. Plausible.

Haver dasher. Habby Sham.

Highest Rock

the tide leaves the tortoise on the highest rock.

dear life, where do you go?

the sun sets fast, the light turns itself black.

the winds of the cosmos blow star dust

through their egg-shaped orbits, and again.

some get closer to each other,

some of us get farther and farther away.

Spines of infinity pound ceaseless dreams

toward the center of the center of love.

on a cliff, far from the red, raging womb,

the coyote sings to the full, risen moon,

songs sung for the purpose of singing songs.

That's Right, Even Though I Can't Answer You

Trashcan, you smell like bad Christmas. I cut the fingernail on my little toe in you.

The Shudderesses

may be beings in their own eternal light and damnation.
Collated by massive super novelty innerventors,
suspect of inane religions, grabbed by nacho infused
bully guarded facially braided unpopulars.
Crying like night found pigeons swelled up on sills
of darker whites than previously imaginable.
Little girls, proper girls. Soul-boned, drench-wiped
aftershocks of two five-high towers of wires
for telephonic calls to her, dice, and jumps just.
Noxious and not just for folding her brain,
but light spewing from her nimbly intimate incisors.
Backwards sheepishly fidgeting, Blake Lively,
an outer call girl with fake plastic Rhombus
Factoids skips living and fakes laughing
to surmise sunrise particle beams
at last, while silhouetting her own reflection
on sidewalks near her lullaby's grown satisfaction.
Crumpled skin sacks, au pair on sedate schedule
of Reader's Digest, noggin legumes, pasta regiment
not outlasting, none outstanding, a time for ages
to be pressed again, foreign dialogue tongueless
top beating mouth senses, overarching web patterns
of mistaking no sense less. Tomboys, tomcats,
Razor race whores scooter, scooting cooch,
Waver never being blind, bloody bling,
a rubbing of her.
Nosferatu sucks. Nerf in tune, whistling football.
The burial of the light switch joke.
Forward acrophile safer journey
a lawful contribution.



( dedicated to May Swenson and all who feel or shudder

Removal

Put a grave in heiro. I am gravely looking forward to it. I remove myself from everything. Empty child holds me. I gladly speak for it intestinally, a cat on my lap. Mr. CoffeeLips, Yes. I cannot remove myself from myself. Somethings remove me from myself. Disc Golf and dreams while asleep. Sigur Ros in the video screen. Aisles at Target. Speakers on medium. I hunger for a while.

Kerminni Blew Ferrow

Kerminni Blew ferrow, my asthma toodles min neck Jump Ouphe

Shock, Bla bock Somer gum ppherrow Grum sikki tim Durum Deick

Deemp Hurrieshk

Sex and Franzia

(Let us see how sorry we can make them.)

She texted me and asked me to come over for a box of wine. I did not hesitate to reply,
"Hell yeah. Keep your panties on."
I splashed cologne on me. I sped away in the night and in minutes I was at her door. Thrice I rapped with a knuckle. One beat, two beats... three... I lifted my hand again and breathed in, when just then the door swung open and I froze. Time slowed. I saw her red fingernails, her slender white hands, the hairs on her arms, and her soft, pale blue dress with flowery prints, concealing her young, fertile, voluptuous body. Her cropped mahogany hair hugged her luminous, angelic face, her sand-dune cheeks, bunny rabbit nose, poison-berry lips and deep ocean-sky eyes.
"Hello," she quandaried. My heart stopped, and she stole my breath. I nearly gasped and shed a tear in awe of her.
"Do come in, lonely traveler." My body acted independently of my wonder-struck brain. We slid liquidly into her kitchen, where she poured glass after glass of Franzia for us, and we guzzled it until we collapsed unconscious to the floor, our four feet nestled like a liter of puppies.
At mid-morning I regained consciousness. My face was sewn to the tile floor in a puddle of drool. I was alone except for the sounds of the birds and the sunshine. I sat up and rubbed my eyes. I heard a toilet flush, and moments later she walked into the room. She looked almost exactly as she had the night before except for a little muss in her hair and some sleep in her eyes.
She yawned real wide and loud and scratched her belly. She made fair-trade coffee and organic toast. I learned my head against her warm, firm thigh, and she stroked my ear and hummed a tune as tears poured out of my face. I became erect in microseconds. She laid on the floor and rested her head on my lap. I pet her hair and smelled her feminine essence. I saw down her dress a little, and I could see on the surface that her nipples were pointed.
"Hsssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss," she sighed through her teeth, perfect teeth, lovely teeth...
"Morning makes me horny, man."
"Me freakin' too," I gobbled. We took a quick nap, my head backed up against a wood cabinet. I awoke suddenly, my erection still in full force. She perked up just after me, stretched her arms to her sides, balled her fists, arched her back, wobbled her head, scanned my body, and said,
"I'll go get the petroleum jelly."
The sun hit my eyes hard as she skipped out the room.
We had to hurry and get ready to take her nephew to court in an hour.
That was May 12, 2049, and I've forgotten it many times.

THE END

Selfly Friend

I have a sexy friend. How do I. I am in love with Someone Else Or. I wanted to tell her I feel nothing for her or she doesn't matter to me. I have a textbook to read, but I only want to look at pictures of her on facebook.com. She looks like a movie star to me. I want to be in a movie with her. I have longings and passions and emotions that seem uncontrollable. They cause distress in me. I want to change something about my live and my living. I want to be with her at Spider House, at grocery stores, on the streets, at her home, at her parent's, and at shows and meeting new people and trying new things at new places. I want to throw clocks away and judge time based on her presence. I want us to reveal our deepest desires and help each other achieve everything we want to. I want to help clean oil spills and petition to only use clean energy that doesn't hurt nature with her. I want to live on a wide open plain of rolling grasses in a tiny wooden shack with clothes lines attached to it and it's windy and sunny and her hair blows around and she smiles and laughs and runs and we keep animals and go on trips closely and far away and we have families and friends we see them and hug them and tell them what we do and what we will do and what we love about them and each other and we listen and listen and we hear almost everything and we mimic and cry and dance and fornicate and multiply and blossom. We make our minds up and we lay dawn, and we spring up our sheets are draped and we make a difference and we matter most to each other and we help each other become who we are meant to be. We are fairytales and we live in cities. We drink allowance and water.

Fuckher. I peel my sweaty ass clothes right off. I danced four hours at a club place. I lost every identity I had. I heard people's clothes and saw the empties inside them. Skin seemed to disappear. Light seemed too weak to fight the dark parts of the night there. Movements erased the visuals and air was smudged. It was a nightmare painting. I hurried home where I opened my laptop and typed and four page story about a horse racing against the sunrise in a land where eyeballs were the only source of life. Tightropes were strung between the villages in the mountains. Everyone had poles. Most people were upside down and had constant diarrhea. Toes were seen as evil.

I drank four glasses of liquid and light lemonade, then I listened to the song and cried four hours when I rather would be asleep. In the morning I saw the mail come through the blind windows. I noticed I was male too.

Homo Squirrel-iens

Target in the front of a locked-on squirrel

I had a little bakery in my nuts

Over lying Truth of My matter

I hate homo sapiens My belchy stomach

sings myself Overlapping Hetero

Fantasies I grab the stick the

bleeding rhythmic stick my

pulse is an organ my bloody drum

Stuck on my fourth finger I have

loose noodles in my head-shaped

block of hearty ice it's inside

my looney toon career I am face to

life a sack a Poor Tom my

rump my suckling ducking forward

I piss out of my locked door, My

friend is a psycho I learned him

to lock all alfredo Peering in my

Latin Frigid Specimen I eat your

earaches. Here is this totally Unholy

Busty Waitress. Feel my Time!?

Sacks of balls, No one sees a bladder

a sickly beefy Nectar Dry as a Bitch

Flutter in her nose My dick fleece

Biting horse ecstacy Homeo

Plath Blend of extra needless

underdone saucy Blimey carcass

Fleabag Don't Suck Millie

Wonder, An open Artificial

kindle fire I wonder what

mother had for dinster, my

what a brother you have

been You're only lonely then

having lost teeth You're a

child I wonder where big

pig skins say I will kick

you out on your firey ass

you solemn opus you whiney

crat sack of Prime Dildoes

I'm intimidated I'm articulate

Finally Finally gushing My

Wunder Bra Sexual Preversion

Ono Homosapien You pissed

my future I wonder how loudly

a cry from the back court

the pantry the yard of the

Neighbor a specific friendly

gesture, Now waiting, I am

myself doing something, Now an

alcoholic, Pissing a future, Underdone Reread

Memoir One

Before I was at school all day, my mom took me to a neighbor's house. A woman who lived there looked after a group a children while their parents were at work. I made my first best friend there. I had my first crush. I talked about strange things with other children. I went to petting zoos. I tasted my first green apple there. I fell out of a hammock and bumped my head on a stump. I swung on swings that were too small with an older boy. I learned about black widows and saw one. The red hourglass on its belly was trrrrrrrrrrrrrannns heat. I liked her face. Her name was talyor her hare was blond. I new a younger boy named chnadler, i tot him how to blow his lips like a chainsaw. I wanted to kissssss her.
Some times kids us threw rocks. walking and disobeying was fun, to argue with adult to know we were knwong more then they knew.

a little plastic house. Playtime, tag chase, leaves everywhere big trees big yard, porch swing, toy room. secret maliciousness. good granola bars.
SHe is dead now, i heard.
ive seen her husband driveing
He likes jesus. he probably thinks his wife is in heaven and hell see again soon.
fish tank, there were fighting fish maybe, my friend later had one at least, his house was cool. I touched a boob the first time, teenage girl at a fire on the side of the yard. Then once more i jumped for her chest playing hide and seek and hit my shin on the bed on a truck.
Jacon

3D

Oh me. I've taken me out. Do look at these legs. O my gosh. Mine is a bent image. My figure is out sketched. Longly living, dog-headed pigs can fight their tally men. Over moon over, cats licking fingers on faces. Eeking protruding side of my fingernail. Necklaces hurt. Fried eggs boil in my tummy. Nickage fabulous art cheese foreskin bully homo shaved Nicklace, presbyterian oaker label Facsimile machine.

Oh mother, time ain't right. The time of night to clip off sections of grown myself. Figure out my math questions. Time is now. On motherly loving, suitcases of toddler piss open and spill like horses down shiny floors and their guts spike foremen with foreceps on singular shingle applesause snack desk maker fellow.

Hello, biddy. A fine brain you have cooked out. Nice world behind the shades of insistance, buckeroo. Taco beatle, my malign tongue stowe Tacoma, when why locate. Practicer practical, MOMA, flick it. Shimmy ocular peeper, Nipple Ouch AMOA sackrace temple bob tap dangle power throb. Actual tie freezer zits impress knowledge. Sacksual to mean moderate too tuneup. In tomes, lying forceful bunks, laptop ear wipe

Secondary near bonding, a life full option. This faded little more

When Then Was Then

Go to Germany to learn how youtube works,,, it doesn’t work

The internet is small.

im small.

Go to bed sleeping in still

Sill steeping all ways in the friend horn.

All ways sleeping still in the frend hornsch

Always still in the fweeping still horn

We feel wee fweep in sweeping still always horn

When fwend was still sleeping in the winder still was always sleeping he window swill

When wind was, he was a sleepin, aye was dee, and the was dreen in always sleeping

Was when was when

Then was then was

Wasn’t away, when then was never then

Go away when then was never sleeping, when was when, I was wever sweeping

Then I was when, then then was then, I was away never sleeping, then was away,

we was going away always sleeping

Languidge

I slip the word onto my foot. The word lies taut under my back. I don’t anger run run run run run pumple pumple pumpel rangel. I need like the saw, a weed whacker, a hedge trimmer? That’s it! Hedge TRIMMER! And it sparkles in the sky over adoring eyes :: Bits of the structures of letters drift away toward the window. We had them, but we had no need to keep them. We disassembled them, and they migrate languidly to find new homes, for they are the essence of structures and have no need to settle but do so as they are needed by ones such as us. The black marks clump and stack, building recognizable order. We can clump and stack to make messages on the window, or we can drizzle wet sand from our fingertips to form crooked, fragile monuments to idolize our idleness :: Thin trumpets proudly show off their kindergartener’s back surgery finger paint… Over lazy hills more morbid pigs slide landscape luge lessons into our dreaming screen face. Impressive was the counter suit. And it all tumbled out, fractions and hypotheses, unfinished experiments, and a Finnish carp lode instructor. Poring water over it may help. Bleeding reflexes own our afternoon awning. Independent nose lender peeping through holes of our conscience, leading us into barking alleys where brown justice reeks sup to the sky… and squeaks… crushed by thousands of tons of what(ever) matters as Earth swallows, implodes, caves in, envelopes and eats ourselves. Tasty wish to seem like I ever always want to seem and remember how I want.