email . . .

Poems

I just read [I started typing this two days ago.] "As kingfishers catch fire" a few times. I tried a few different ways and speeds. I let myself be distracted way too much, but I got a bit better. I really love it. I read another one I love: "It was a hard thing".


I have not made complete sense of this line: "Deals out that being indoors each one dwells".


A few days ago, I googled Meghan, looked at her face a bit more, then I read a couple pages of her paper,

Empirical Exercise: The Dynamics of Knowing .

I kind of tried to do that exercise too with Towards Self Meaning. I failed pretty hard and gave up.

I like her writing. It is strange and fun feeling that I kind of know her. And she is so Awesome.

I hope she and I meet in the next couple of months! Are you still concerned that she might prefer me? ;P

... two days later:

I want to get this out the way first:    I keep thinking about Suicide. Of course I do not want to die or to kill myself or hurt myself... but I am curious. The Pain is just baffling.

It sucks I have only slept about 3 or 4 hours at night, three out of the last four,  including last night. I compulsively surf the internet, a lot of Youtube and music. 

I journaled a little. I wrote and edited some poems too, which is me at my best I think.

I have weird energies. I'm sure you know the feeling. Kind of a drunkenness. 

I'm too fucking horny. I haven't watched porn or jacked off for about a week I guess. I'm still intent on avoiding porn and frequent masturbation.  Still, I have been watching or listening to ASMR videos, and sometimes they turn me on intensely.

Sorry I forgot to send this last night. I carpooled to work with Mom and then she agreed to babysit Sofie, so I went too. Maybe two hours or more wasted, but I most likely would have wasted them at home too. Optimism!

FUCK! I am so sorry that I fed you bullshit about why I stopped pursuing Jada. I felt wrong doing it, but I guess it was too painfully shameful to admit that, Yes, I am intimidated, and I don't want to try for fear of failing. I want to call her today. That makes me happy. I resign to try. It will be easy to move on if she and I get nowhere. Any outcome will be better than not trying and wondering about her and what we could have done for eternity. Scary! Hah {: 

Nothing from Anna. She has probably lost her chance with me. It is a probably a bigger loss for her, since I believe you when you say I'm awesome. 

I am sad that I have not heard from the five WWOOF hosts I emailed. I need to send more immediately. 

God... will it... I just wonder what makes it so hard; I wonder what pain is and why

I hope you and I meet again asap. Sorry for anything and everything. 

I Eagley await our communion.

I love you so much AAron! Bye for now. May God be with You!

- Greg

Your Mother

Please don't love me
Not like this

I don't want to cry
Like your mother (or Sofia, Lauren...)

When you left her...

Body...

Cold.

Please let me know,
Clearly answer me,
Why is my self-hate
Still blind while

Other-Love evermore
thoroughly loves me.


--- Cut Here

Fuck me I'm retarded
Suck the big dick-hole
Lay me in the casket with Your Mother

10 Years of Porn End Tonight

By this frighteningly simple lightning,
I let long rec-tangles of bodies stain my reflection
Between dark glints of raindrops
In our front yard.

On the limitless black limbs
Of the  [e:]  those dying oaks, rest the dead blues
Of Night.

Under the power position ( Antarctic Summer )
Huge metaphysical metal meat hooks
Gouge my sunken dim eye-bags and carry me

Down through sewer-molasses flesh
At life speed, a groan,
An ever-growing growl, deep

In the heat-death of the wet tight
Followerse.

God

I wish it didn't hurt so much for no reason.

I guess It is part of God's revealing of Themselves to me, in me...

Part of Their "plan" maybe

I worry about my mom a lot.

Is she sad?

When will she die?

I love Dan Harmon.

kkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk

Crischans

I think

millions people are

aware of God

but they Reject 

Jesus.

They say,

"

How is that possible, Right?

I know the laws of nature.

I know 

WHAT GOD WOULD DO.

"

So....

Everyone is Christian

What should I do?

I am supposed to relate my experience.

I'm not trying to convince anyone.

I cannot force anyone to listen to themselves.

I cannot force them to listen to the Force within them.

I just choose to believe what I want to.

I Am So... Anna Is. [ I Began This as a Text to Aaron but Decided not to Send It and Just Tell Him about It When We Next Met in Person ]

this HTML Fahhhhhhk! (: I'm so excited. I just now talked to Anna! I thought she would not answer. She was a bit wary. She told me she was "available" the first time I asked her out, but now she is "with" someone.   She said she wanted to be up front.  She said something about still seeing friends. I was able to talk coherently and somewhat carefully. I'll try to be concise with you here. I am considering waiting to tell you about this, in person I think. Yes I  will wait. I am afraid of foisting myself on another keeping both of us from growing. Value is Fahhhhhhk! (: I'm so

My Last Most Powerful Free Write

Page 3

Here is an exercise - write about a random
Dictionary word ( I am drinking a Margarita on Rox )
The word is "schoolbook" Here I go: I am
scurred of Spiders and In Sex, Maybe -
I can squush 'em with a big book, like
one for school Learnin, like a big dicked
professer man who teechy teachers
like they big breast after school, GO
Die you fuckin' Hole Loser Fuckwit
Pervert ASSHHOOOOLLLe (=
I am Fuc / Funny and EVILASFUCK
YOUMOTHERRFUCKINGAYASS
FUCCCKKKIN HOLERetard
Fuckin' peice of Cumdirt
Shit GODYOUDAMNHELL ... jeez us

Page 2

I Love the photo and text of
GillIan   Jacobs that I
tacked to my bedroom wall. OK - write
more Legibly - I do not know how to spell that -
but I think Legibly may be correct... aaron.
I like to think of Names for people as
totally meaningless. A better name for Aaron
would be My Best Friend Forever, My Soul's Twin
I believe I am a very Good writer person.
I like Jesus Christ, the God person, a lot,
like he is my good friend or my good parent.
I want to go slow. I want to sleep perfectly, more like
AAron probably does. I should read
wiht most of my time. why am i so terrified
and petrified more than half of my conscious time.
I want some easy-to-follow guidelines for My Life, OK?

Page 1

I gotta write. It is the only way...
for me... I need direction. It's stormy.
I need love... I'm not sure what that means.
but it makes me begin to cry. I've had a full
wineglass of redwine just now. I feel cool....
Good. - that is a strong word. I almost
do not know what I will write next.
I'm Dad. I want my body to be Every-
Thing. Now I shall write more slowly
and neatly. I love Aaron, my only
friend, much more than anyone can ever put
into words... that last sentence is making
me cry liquid from my face holes. Eyes and nose.
I like Patrick, one of my 3 brothers,
a lot. I like Tim, but he is more
difficult to understand. I love


myself
so much
it hurts me.
... how. ow. how. Hi.










fin

Language and Means and Choice to Better Understand *Everything*

Lonergan, Verbum
Nice Guy
Nice Words
The Best Good

Living in the woods

Two humans fuck and conceive a new human.

Boring and sad

Because I am ugly and unhealthy, both by choice.


I want to make you feel good, because I feel more sorry for you and them than I can believe or understand.

I am nowhere near understanding.

Understanding means God.

Pure and infinite Understanding.


Sent to Aaron:

I don't know if you would get anything from listening to it [Courtney Barnett's Sometimes I Sit and Think and Sometimes I Just Sit] [ or me ] other than knowing a bit more about me. I hope I am not typing too much for you to read and think about and taking your time away from others deserving of your time.... ohhh, sigh. 

APL Incidents Reports

On 5/15/2016 at approximately 7:43PM, at Faulk Central Library, a white female in her late 30’s came inside the library without shoes on. She walked fast and went directly to the snack area. I walked over to her and said hi. She went off and told me to F--- off and to leave her alone. She was getting a soda. That she had been tazed today and didn’t care to hear what I had to say. She got the soda and began to walk towards the front doors. She was using foul language the whole time and yelling really loud. I walked behind her and told her to leave for the day. This woman is clearing on something, skin ate up and she is always shaking. She is well known at most libraries South Austin. She speaks every loud and get in trouble a lot. EOR


No blood ever left Mr. Utler's arm.  I disposed of all blood related materials in the proper manner.
Mr. Utler said he scraped his arm on the wall at the corner of Diane's office as he was walking to the front of the building.  We checked the location and saw no evidence of blood.  Throughout most of our interaction with Mr. Utler, he insisted he didn't want help and didn't need a bandage, but the blood was flowing a little too freely on his arm to ignore



2006 a.d.

Emptying bags out of trash cans walked over to me. He wanted something out of the trash. Called me names stupid MF. Then he started to fight with me hitting my arms beating on me with both of his arms and fist calling me names.

Engine, Live by Jeff Mangum on YouTube, in Our Quiet Living Room, Mom Lies on Her Bed, Home Sick

Mythology of Dad's younger weird male friend, late 1990s, Deep South Winter, cozy rooms, free and easy alcohol, timeless record of Light and Sound, mutilated reality, hefty burger, caramelized memories, eerily fresh and eternally real.


When I think of how he sings or think of how he plays and moves,

I feel I see him cry happy tears of a sad color, but they cannot be seen or felt.

Bilingual, mistaken tears flow out of his skin, flesh, hair, sweater, instruments and voice,

and his-head-sized tear-clouds float past him to his longest spacey future,

full of ever larger instruments and ever louder,

even more beautiful hurtful vacuous voices.

I just wrote this on paper

Is-pods balance on my ache-egg palm -
Beige clay shell cracks and crumbles after
my christened keratin over-growth pokes
eight-pointed north-aligned Figure A
holy theory microscope radioactive imprint
of a creative begetting semi-somnolence
teased crying-wound-colored bakery formula,
scratch street noon-hour high heat cordial
blister skein through Meghan's burnt sun
late Autumn, too late for give hairy
mess age of 24, 25, 26 Hot Left
fingering the border You and I for got
glisten forecast over 30 blue
dark inside fire glean pus
a 7th sunset intersection enter
her sex, ion Caress

beating lime sick fluid 11th erase sponge
yellow heart blush gushes sticky women
spark neat bile Even Goddamn Special
symmetrical blue-eyed green-sore mouth
fucking bane pain whorish queen lose
piles bleed button Top mischief
Forgive, I am open, lost, Now, begin
to Lay out, explain, detail, grey forest
Alone with hard Life, Peck at a shell
New Foreign, sight brings a little soul
of strawberry skin holes; I press Anna for
an illumination of her sickness sorrow and
more so her fire blooming
consummating A Right rigid
Assignment Blessed I impress
......... myself

Visualizations of eternity and infinities

a cow runs to the hori-
zon and eats 100 window-
sky-feathers in 3 seconds.

If I Were an Animal

I forgoRt what I wanted to say.



I read a true story and I believed every word.



Christ and Masturbation



"Tragic Stupid Silly Moment" - Louie , by louie ck



If I were an animal:
I would not think
about God
or at all.

Instinct is my God.


I see leaves.
I don't want to eat those.

I eat other animals.

I run away from Danger.

I am a stranger.
God is a Stranger.

I vomit the rotten water.
This earth is getting hotter.

I fall down the hill.
God wants to kill
me, so he does.

I rot and get eaten.
My Life Has More Meanin'.

I cry from the Sky.
I am final-I
Happ-I.
I know a cool guy.

His fuckin' name is

Jesus Fuckin' Christ.

My name is Kzrxtschccqxrxz

I'm Polish or something.

It is so Fun-to-see.


I understand now.

I understand you.

no ends

I realised (I am from the USA and still live there, but that's just mostly how I automatically type 'realise', and I like it more than with a 'z'.)


I realised... today, while shelving non-fiction books at my library,

that my thinking of killing myself (no matter how generic or purposeless)

is disrespectful to everyone and everything.

I feel a basic social responsibility.

I feel sorry for people in physical pain,

and I feel more sorry for people living hopelessly horrific lives.

Middle East, Africa, Asia, South and Central America, NPR stories, ignorance, narrow-mindedness, generalization, Colonization, Globalization, Homogenization, meaninglessness


About a day ago, I briefly thought of joining the Peace Corps again.

I am scared of going somewhere close to places where many people have been killed by other people,

and where people fear that other people may kill them.


I would much rather live on a peaceful place on Canadian soil.

Easy life, easy mind.

I can wait.

I fear death.

I fear God.

I fear myself.

I fear others.

I fear fear.

I do not understand the meaning of fear.

I understand next to nothing.



There

I have to go

now

Bye

{:

love

to no end

Benevolence

Skin-free skin

Popping pores full of festering bulbous bug shit.

Guys like women with big healthy funky able heart messes.


I like red hot Hero-worship hard soul danger mutations.


My Mother ate 6 thousand 5 hundred ham-pocked Horse hormone face drench, before the day she became my memory.




Aaron of my memory.


Four Stars


To Elude the Will of My Evil Self


To Live and Elude the Eluding of the Benevolence of My True Self




Vulcan Hair

http://educadora85.blogspot.com/2012/09/una-pequena-autobiografia.html

hoy Yo soy la luz del poder de dios

today I am the light of the power of god

[ The above was typed today, May 6, 2016. The below was written (and drawn) with black-inkpen on paper yesterday, 5-5-16, and is in the process of being typed this night, 5-6-16. That is all. Now back to your schudeled programming. {: ]


Fuck hell. I am lucid,.. lucifer.

There must be god in me. It is Logical.
It is the Law.

Dear, Everyone

Our faults. We belong to everything.
everything are beelawng to weeeee
I am an imperceptible Human.
I am in touch with Infinity ----
Say Absolutely Anything, My God.

What else would you have me do?
What could be better than this?

I'm listening to Good News For People Who Love Bads News. I am still young, I guess. Relatively.
I like Dancing. Automatico  {: day to


How should I know? I should know as best as I can. I can. I think I am.
I was born out of my Mom on the afternoon of December 18, 1989 a.d.
Pure Perfection
"Everything is going to {...} fine."
"So, Darling, why are we..."
I'm listening to Hotel Books. I like Constant Conclusions. Sometimes everything is too hard.
 - This Is The First Time This Is The Last
Time . . . , , . . " { - -
I expect to die. Now is Ever.
Now I meet Yes. Do I do
Yes   I   guy   Sweet Night Yay I.


I really Like the album Run Wild, Young Beauty.
I may have drunk too much coffee. My heart or my head may explode.
Problems. Struggle. Challenge. Truth.
"It might be a test, or it might not be anything for to worry yy about. And if you're still in doubt, go and knock yourself out.
Fight Fires. Fight Darkness.
Will. William. Dad. God. Being. Mind.
Language. Life. Body. Soul. Eternity.
Judgement. These are a few things I wonder about. I ask why. I pray to myself. I am not God. I know a lot. I need to understand.
Lenerd COHEN {{;:  Home Not Alone, Best. OK  ( =


It's May 5, 2016. I'm 26 y.o. and about 5 more months. My dad woulda been 71 y.o. today. It's 12:57 p.m. I am in the house at 139 Michele Drive Bastrop, Texas, United States of America, Earth. This Language is English. It is popular among humans, animals of the species homo sapiens. Sapiens is Latin for Intelligent. Homo means gay. Gay is happy. Happy is me. "I'm glad I'm not you."
An American girl's white/peach face.
I knew that. I'm a "writer"
I know very very little, I know.

Diary

I must leave this place in 30 minutes...

OH, no. I was mistaken. I must leave in One Hour and Thirty Minutes.

I should shower in the next hour.


I do not want to be stinky.

I want to be courteous to and respectful of the people who will probably be near to me,

If I go to work. [: Maybe Anything will happen before that happens.



I am listening to Andrew Bird. The album is Fingerlings 4. Dance of Death. [:


It is calm

It is nice

It is pretty


........

It's okay. My head aches a little.


I need to eat.


I am addicted to several things. Mostly technologies, thoughts and ideas.


That is not an excuse. I made myself addicted, and I think I could cure myself with a little help, which I would need to seek.



I have to eat something before I have to begin to drive to my job in about 15 minutes.



I would like to be Andrew Bird.

Not as opposed to myself.


I am just curious and envious and admiring.



All right I have to stop typing for a while.


Byebye again

Oh hello.

This screen is so bright

It is not even a star or a quasar.


I want you to know that I am tired and it is 1:19 pm and I am scheduled to be at the Cepeda branch of the Austin Public Library at 4 p.m. today.


I like being alive.


I like doing things

and making choices.


I want to go somewhere nicer.................


I like cute girls. I want to touch one of them. I want her to hold me and make me feel happy for a little bit.

It is stupid I know,


but everything is stupid (still worthy) relative to God, who created everything and are omniscient, They know everything.


They can do anything and everything.


I do not believe this fully,


but it is fun to think about,


and it is fun and feels real to share my thoughts.


Hopefully,

We shall connect soon.


I hope

that I understand


something.

[: all right


Later, My nooger. Peep!

Written on Paper Writing Tablet

      I sing to mysel. F. I need to save

everyone and everything.

I need to see the end of time. I need to

know what happens.

I cry eye contact with peace officers. My wide eyes leak saltwater. My mouth frowns.
I say, " I need to die. I ate all my friends."
Officer Peepoo look at floor. He sigh short.
He say, " Now- I know that that ain't true.... D'you wanna teel uz tha trew'th naw?"
I oopem mah Ize whydurr ant zay,
" Poppa don' preetch.
I needz mah licker baybee.
Poopee - Y'No muh naym -
Jiss lemme go - Eye Killem . "

Theend !

Diary

I sit on a chair. It is wood and cushion and fabric.

I touch a laptop keyboard. The laptop is on a desk.

Two dogs lick the floor and herself within a few feet of my body.

All I am wearing is shorts from Academy.

Bug bites on my legs itch.



I am listening to The Ghost of Corporate Future (Live in California) --

Now I am not


I am listening to All My Friends (Live at Madison Square Garden) by LCD Soundsystem.


I am about to make a third cuppa coffee.


I stayed up till about 4 A.M. looking at facebook and youtube.


" .... For another five years of life."

Cream of Strong Menses

Kill
Open her flower

Her FLow Errrrr, I err, so thata mean I am a HUm bUm

HahHAHAHAHAhahLshcosdnbwejbv/lhvvbd. nsdfivo ,u bcno;eyvc uhj bhil
nigga

I open the ore. I oar the Bow Rote. Be a Tiger. You make One Hundred Billie Men Goat Fucker I fuck her ball out of the sack that I were Born to do It You rape Me Rape Rape Me RPRMEPMAMERMEPMRPMAPSPAMRRMEPAMAPREEPAMPMREPREMEPPAMRPES



OK!


This is fun I fuck Myself.


I want to die.


I love going gooshy shopping.




I can heer words. I hear instruments. Storm Menses. I melt a baby. Shelder put a baby in a blender feet first.


The infant human screams. Blood curdles in the hot machinery. No one dies. Infinite Suffering


I love my name. My name is god.


You will know my name is the Lord.


I am the Law.



This is not insane.


I am drinking Coffee. Caffeine. It is good.


I am good. I am happy. I am doing good. I am doing well.


Little Bit of Coffee Mate Natural Bliss Vanilla Creamer.



I need to Fucking Read Right Now and Until I Die, Very Soon, As In the Next One Hundread Yeeeeerz


I am a monkey Father.


I need Restitution. Reputation. Around the school for being strange. I go with boys. I am tight. Like a Pussy.

I fuck retards. I fuck virgins.


I am always safe.


I like Music.


Music is real.


I am Just Gregory.


Help me.


My account has been hacked.


This is my modus operandi. That is Latin for Mode of Operation.


Look at my letter:


P
P
K
D
F
J
U

K
OO
P

QRS

1.


Help me.


Haha. What are you really thinking?


I wish to God I could hear your thoughts.

You are someone reading my blog.

Maybe I asked you to.



How much is true.


People are not bodies. That is true.


People are more infinite than Nature.

I am less infinite than Jesus.


Jesus is a name.


My name is Greg.


My name is Judge... arrested deevelope-ment.


Open the book.


Any book.


I open my ass.


It is time to go.


Pooooooo

P


You look all right.


Your hair is



Fine.



FIN



F   i   n   i   t   e



EOR


end of report


Gregory Douglas Wredberg, signing off

Over and Out.

*Click*

A Gift to Our Generous Supporters

Dear Sufferer,

Only what you make will give you a peace.

A round full word, a whole community

Promise to practice your part.

Give me time, give me space

I will make an invisible circular organism.

Don't leave me alone with my made-up responsibility.

I have a plan written on my writing path.

Collect calls 'cross country, living

Reimagine X-ray scanners research

Poor health insurance scammer, recently fired from 

retail, sleeps on sofa in brother-in-law's basement.

Soothe the nerve pain of millions

of retired Satellite subscribers.

Enter 4 digit code on back of Outback to survive,

because you're a mother, a wife, a child, a life.

Facebook first draft

 Hi, y'all. Hope yore 'avin' ay G'day. Peace Out Famebook! I should follow through with some better ideas, but paradoxes exist: i want to do better, but better is more difficult and more rare. If everything were better, there would be nothing to do and no way to exist.

Southern Justice (This Reminds Me of The End of the Tour and DFW's TV Addiction and His Thoughts on Entertainment Technology and the Future.)

I've just been watching Southern Justice on TV. My heart beat faster. I felt like crying. I felt like I was taking part in an uncertain, dangerous situation. I'm glad I am watching that show. I don't want to stop.

It's funny, [: Blaha!... I just saw an ad for a new episode of Southern Justice that airs tonight. I shed two tears. My nose is runny.

Why is this me?

Also, right before this commercial break, the cops on the show got a call about a guy threatening suicide... so...


I feel like I am crying

.......

oh my god ......................


can you hear very quiet screams too? ...



I am so alone. And so beautiful: I feel so beautifully, so perfectly...


I am happy. I am content.

I am crying more.



The young man on Southern Justice.


The cops found him in the basement. Alone in a house. Like me right now (except the dogs, I guess.)


There were cans of beer. I think he was drunk. The cops told him that they were there because his mom was worried about him.

-- He walked away from them. He faced a wall and began to cry. He had cut his arms. They took him in for protective custody. They said they were just there to help him. One cop said it was a dangerous situation, but "luckily, he just cut himself." I laughed out loud. I stood up. I began to cry. I felt strange emotions. I was so grateful for these people on the show and the people who made it and broadcasted it, and other people like them. Who do some kind of artful reporting. Some kind of meaningful entertainment. Honest and kind observers. Humans trying to live, trying to do well. I am proud of these people. I am proud to be a person. I am capable of something. I plan to try to do a few things. --

... We are special people ... ...  I just don't know. Days and nights. Star and electricity. Cars and houses. My eyes. My hands. My brain.

Umbilical.

Nikki Rader... again. I am god again. I eat tacos... again. I cum inside her... maybe... I guess that I still do not know.

Why.

I am a puppy. I want to drink a cup of milk. A bowl of fresh cool milk. I am Neutral Milk. I cum rain bbuckets. I am The Rain. I love myself. I love pretty girls. I love good cops. I love TV and all of my senses.

I have senses that I am not even aware of yet.


I believe that I am eternal.


I believe in God. God wipes my baby.


I feel weird.


I ate shit pizza rolls. I am Shit.

Two prepubescent white boys spent the night in a cheap motel with their father. The Deep South. The late 1990s.


I never want to die. I want to feel good. I suk.


My best friends are: God. James Joyce. My penis. Hell. A fat guy alone on a queen bed in a small house: he is about to die. He killed his heart. McDonald's ate his life. He was born a baby. His parents were half-conscious.


This will be a beautiful work of art.


If I can still be alive.

No, I mean really alive.

I mean fully concious.

We drive to the Alamo draft house.



Gee, wheeze... ... How can I explain this to you?


How do I explain myself?

What do I have

to say for myself?


Please send me a letter.


Please make me answer your phone call.


Please make me clean myself.


Please.

I want to do things that make my body better.


I want to conquer Mount Olympus.


I must keep going.


I cannot feel myself.


Let me ask why again.


You are the reader. You are also God.


This is my purpose and my meaning.


I cut down the unsafe tree. He was a middle-aged oak. He spoke to an electrician.


I must exit myself for now.


The End


[ ;


P.S.
I am listening to The Hill by Marketa Irglova. Yesterday Mom and I watched the last good while of Once on TV.

I broke down

I build myself up

The The End

The Pigeon-Hole Tree

"Give me your money," said the cash registrar. Heraldo smirked, cuz he didn't want to give any money. He moved to the exit of the cafe and told Cash, "Nooooooooh!" Cash wound up its fist hole and yelled at Heraldo, "Don't stop your fly feet on my damn pet carpet!" But, Heraldo Rivers already slunk away under the hot Mississippi clouds. The blue river fell sideways into the full pool of Mexico. "I just said, 'You are God.' Why are you still talking?" posed Heraldo to the pigeon-hole tree.
           Last Saturday, 6 A.M. -
Mary's breath was like a litening storm, but I dunno how. She pushed Heraldo onto the bed like a whirl of a girl, who's 4 globes short of a world, where birds don't live past 9. "Mary told Heraldo about the pigeon-hole tree," said Aly to the yellow cafe bottom.
           Lost Saturday A.B.C.
Gim flew in from Haiti at 5:35. He sat at the terminal and ordered fish and wine. He ate and drank and thot of flys and dates (the time things, not the fruits.) An older woman, 40 years old, sat at the entrance by the restrooms and played the flute. She sounded like 5,000 butterflies dancing at Earth's funeral, becuz Jupiter tried to park his Saturn at her doorstep.

Marjorie Osterich is 42 years and 3 months old. It is March 18th 1998. She keeps her house clean. She collects coupons and shops almost every day. She's been married for 19 years, 8 months and 2 days. Her husband's name is Roland Dougherty. They live in Des Moines, Iowa. She has dusty hay hair and strawberry-buttermilk skin.

5 Alive

Kay Brautlowe, the giant black head orange beak woman
with wavering passion and electrical craving.

SpaldingGreg // LostOcean EternallyAlone
SufferingKneecap SharpBone // ReadyToLeave

Write. Things go and went inside me thru me.
The 5 people are still breathing.
My teeth cling for life to my gums.
Seeds are lost in packets in cold stores,
dark mountain dug out by bulldozers,
washed out to sea.
A fat plankton, a fat jellyfish, explode
like a fat old star. I knew enough to die.
No more babies, eat spiders, eat eyes.
Cannot sleep, cannot wake
Have another thought from that other person.
Fly across a continent.
Land on another continent. Round trip.
11 year-old Jacob Carson. 4-week carcinogen.

all true stuff that helps us understand and feel better more often

My mother thought it might rain today. It was cloudy earlier but now it is sunny. I want to go outside and I will. Mom said she might come home early today. I took a nap. I listened to ASMR. I watched porn and masturbated. I watched and listened to Better Caul Sall commentary.

I ate a bunch of junk. I felt bad weird anxious sad. I saw a missed call on my phone. I am afraid that Anna called me. The number has the same first 3 numbers as my number. 779. I am afraid to call the number back. I am afraid to talk to Anna, or anyone, or see anyone. I wonder what I'll eat for dinner. I want to watch a really good movie. I have had The Tale of Princess Kaguya for many months. I want to watch that this week.

Aaron and I talked about moving to Canada. He to Toronto and I to Vancouver. I want to send some emails to WWOOF hosts near Vancouver. I want to leave in July.

I just googled "WWOOF vancouver" and was reading a website about Blue Jay Lake Farm. Parts of it make me cry and laugh, because I get so excited and happy when I imagine living and working there as a part of my life.

I like the name of the organization SOIL, Stewards of Irreplaceable Land.

I imagine being on a farm, thinking about interacting with nice people, thinking about what to do next and how best to do it, and wanting to cry, because it does not seem real and seems too much for me.


That is why I keep giving up and wanting to do nothing.


I am signing up for WWOOF Canada membership now.


Our food becomes our bodies.


we become aware of ourselves and everyone and the future.

H a b i t s

I am not doing well


I keep going back to porn.


I keep thinking about masturbating and coming.


I keep fantasizing about getting a blowjob from a girl I know or a prostitute.


I keep going back to ASMR.


I keep eating bad food.


I keep wasting time.


I keep being lazy.

I keep giving up.

I keep not caring.


I like Yvette ASMR. She is calm and relaxing.


I don't want to try to talk to Anna today.


I drank too much alcohol today.


I don't want to buy wine for Aaron today. Also I do not want to disappoint him.


I started designing a table top role playing game yesterday. It's kind of fun to make stuff up and try to figure out how it could work. I like the ideas I put down and the map I drew.


I want to go out today. I slept quite a bit. I masturbated twice to porn today. I spent a while yesterday lying in bed watching porn on my phone.


I want to take the recycling to the school's bins.


Aaron is coming over in an hour and a half.


I guess I will go to Spec's after I take the recycling.


I thought about doing laundry. I don't want to. I don't care enough to do it.


I watched and listened to some commentaries on Better Caul Sall season 1. Also watched some making of shhtuff.

I want to see Anna and find out if I gave her my correct number and if she wants to set a time and place to talk and spend more time together. I want to get her number and email.

I thought that it is possible that she is slutty and wants to blow me and have sex a lot. I was disappointed and excited by that. I wondered if she might be forceful and how I would react.


The last few talks with Aaron, when he was buzzed on wine, have often been even more uncomfortable and exhausting for me than other talks with him. They have been exciting also.

I found myself disliking how he talked after drinking a few glasses of wine.

I am still put off by other people's self-confidence. I think my self-confidence is still low. I don't trust anyone. I don't believe anything. I don't know anything other than my thoughts.

I think, "This keyboard feels smooth. My hands feel uncomfortable. My past went fast and was mostly empty. I do not think there is a past or future. My leg is sore. I want to fall asleep and have a beautiful long dream and wake up and remember it all and feel energetic and pain-free and strong and smart and fast and beautiful."


The End, Baby.


P.S. I am going to cry. It feels right. I am going to explore and claim myself. I can carry you. I am going to die. I exist beyond time. I am playing in your hair follicles. You are wiggling like a pig. I am throwing you into battle on a distant crazy planet.

Good Bye

God be with you and me. Let us be God. Let us know all.


P.P.P.S. I keep popping my neck or trying to. I put my hand on my chin and twist my neck. It's frustrating when it doesn't pop. It's frustrating when I remember I did not want to do it anymore and I did not stop myself because I was somehow unable or unwilling to think or remember. I want to put wristbands on my wrists to remind myself not to try to pop my neck. Maybe they can remind me not to do any of of my bad habits with my hands. I should not touch my face. Maybe my skin would get clearer.

In middle school, after school, I hung out with a guy who had weights on his wrists, because they helped him not pull out his hair.

\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\

eggnog dreams
first-born laser beams

MY
life just reached another peaK:

unknown bliss shrieksssSSS
KRIT KRATZ Y TIK KOK

I
feel better when I'm drunk.

MY
dick gurgles amniotic
succulent trashheaps

My sentient swollen feet massage cold floor tiles

hurt harder hate unbarrass Unborn Mass

Dan Harmon's Book Deal Video Game Crisis Suicide

Mia Wasikowska's Sexy Facial Burn Scars
Agatha Weiss's Schizophrenic Bloody Murder Incest

Movie Run Time Beautiful Film Time
Evening Time Gone Time Mom Time

Angry
Scrape Heat Rape Heart Test Crazed Kiss KKKRRRSSSHHHFFFFKKKKTTTTT

fucked
him
her
me
i

Solo

Once

Over

Done

Old

Hat

Scat
biddy boop scoop hoop bloop hop doo dop wop bop shibby wim wam kooka skim skam toop woop bodda loop

The Holes

"Imagine others complexly." - John Michael Green

There's holes in my plans.
Flaws in my skin.

There's flaws in my hopes.
Holes in my body.

Genes, neurons, social tension,
rubs, looks, hunger, fatigue.

Out a window, I see a huge strange black man
walking away from the library.

He used a computer, printer, and money.
He wears suspenders. His huge pants are baggy.

Out the same window, I see a curvy brown woman
talking on a stranger's cell phone outside the library.

I don't want to use her.
She is much fuller than her full figure.

I'll always be too fallible.
So will everyone else.

I want another chance,
so I'll give everyone chances.

I think insanity is the inability to tell apart the Past, Present, and Future.

[ Or Sanity is the Ability... McShane - "SensAbility." ]

Who gives a fuck

about an Oxford comma?

Also, it is sane when a human being recognizes that we, our souls, are each separate and whole, and divinely connected.

[ Or we are each meant to be whole, but each of us must constantly work at being whole using all the power and will within each of us. ]

Wardrobe Malfunction Video: May God Have Mercy on Us

Wastes of Time, I am a single cell organism

I am a Single Orgasm

I am eligible, singular

Opposite of an Orphan


Mom became an orphan in the middle

of the first decade of the 21st century AD,

when her dad died of cancer. I think it was liver.

He was an alcoholic male-chauvinist jerk.


Willa died when my mom was 15.

It was Suicide.


In the Garage

An Illness

A Disability of Man


Try Not to Give Up

Too easy


Do not take my Word for it.

The Things I Thought about the Most

Words.
I am printed in The New Yorker.
I am on the website www.poetryfoundation.org.
Every body talks about me.
My lines.

My spaces.

My restraint.
My indulgence.
I have entered the minds of every living soul.
They are all afraid of me.
You are afraid.
You do not Want to be reading this.
Buttt...
I am your Lord and Saviour.

...
I am a liar.
I have controlled you and deceived you,
for you know that I am
A God damned human being,
Nothing more.

You see me.
I look like a weird lonely guy.
You hear me.
I make almost no sound,
for I am afraid to. And too.
You smell me.
I have not showered in over 5 days,
but I applied an Ocean Spray deodorant stick.
You feel me.
I should lose some fat,
but you don't care,
for everyone is fat.
Skin is electric,
so please, do not forget that.

Here is the good part with relatable imagery:

The dogs wake up at 6:02 a.m.
It'll be dark
for another 30 minutes.
Mom turns on the TV
before light.

I force myself out
of unconsciousness.

Mom wears a ragged white robe.
When she moves,
she has to tug at the top
to keep it closed.

We talk about sleep,
Sometimes Dreams.

We watch the local News.
Gilmore Girls
Always come to save us.

As Days begin
again, my toes get longer,
my hair gets wetter and cooler,
my Mom
keeps
getting
Older.

My youth has been surpassed.

I think of
death
so often
that darkness,
Clarity,
Senses of fluid, muddy inner flames,
greasy spinal Labia,
are what to do
with my life.

I'm O.K.A.Y.
Occidental
Kaleidoscopic
Anal
Yokel

Starz seem obsessed with recorded fake sex.

I am face to face
with a Fucking xxxxxx (Infinite Brick Wall)

--
As I am typing this "poem"
My Mom just went to bed,
I heard her say something
to herself.
I thought I heard,
"He's too intense."

It is about me.
--

The color Red melts and refines my existence.
I live inside those Girls Online,
Pleasure-obsessed, Speaker and screen addict.

I will meet with a Holy Woman.
We are out at the Springs.
Water cleanses our Sins.

We always go back home.
Clarisa "lives" "in" a cute purple place.
I live black below the depths of everyday thoughts.

I cannot give you an answer.
I feel sorry for every human
Alive.

I know some mistakes I have made.

You will forgive me.

The end of that is.

It's Called a Cross Wind, and It Makes You're Hot Body Even Cooler

"Upside Down Question Mark"

I am talking to you,
You hot young Girl,
with whom I had
Hot Mouth Intercourse.

On your bed in the apartment
You shared with your friend
and your father.
I also hate everything.

I can and do imagine Nothing.
I have lived about 1,496,105,022 lives.
You will come back to me.
You are afraid of what you have missed.

This is Number Four
I am Care; I want More
Kim is a Cool Dood
Love is Evil and Rude

"Question." Declaration.

Beggar

It is funny that "language" is a hard word for me to type.


I just watched Flying Anne for the 2nd time.

I was not paying full attention (She still deeply affected me and my body.

We immediately fall in love with her, because her face is so lovely.);

I was on Facebook, looking at Maybe Saylor/Andrea Gaylor, lamenting, and reading a bit of A Man without a Country.


I am listening to Frank Zappa. He is Aaron's favourite music.


Equal Parts Nothing and Nothingless


I do not much enjoy lyricless music, or highly cerebral shit.


Haha! "We're Turning Again"

What a Song


Zappa was disgusted by so many people. As well he should have been.


Aaron is too. He is hateful. Or maybe Wrathful is a better word. {: Haha, but no one is closer to the Loving Merciful God, Jesus Christ, Holy Ghost.


I know that I believe in Something.

I really like the stories about Jesus Christ.


Mom should be Home soon... home on the Promised Land. Paradise. The Eternal Reward.


MY name is Nikkin and Ranisha.

I eat green forest breaskfests and Coffee Lightning Brain Juice

The End

Love, Greg Wredbegr

Night Star or Air Plane?

Subtitle: Tell Me I Write Prettily. Don't Cage the Elephant.


Barbara Gail Harris (nee Milner) and her fourth and last --- (barring any unforeseen miracles of science or divinity) (I want to see My Name Is Doris.) (I want to walk around a big city and be friendly to strangers on the street but not get in their ways too much. I want to see Ex Machina (film) again! Vikander is Hot.) --- son, Gregory Douglas Wredberg take a walk in their neighborhood. They live at 139 Michele Drive in Bastrop, Texas, United States of America.

The Worst Insult

The worst insult i can think of is

You are the stupidest, smallest-minded, weakest, most worthless and hypocritical Girl

Cunt-Holio

This blog, my blog, is insane in more than 1 way.

It makes me more insane.

I need to be more careful.

I need to get out of this house and do something.

I need to stop thinking too much about the wrong things.


I need to stop just telling myself what I need to do.


I actually rreally need to do something.

Something smart and creative and helpful.


I am afraid.

I do not know anything.




..... I need help. Haha [:  

Thinking is really hard.

Life is hard.


I want to know my purpose.

I want to know what is more true than anything else.



I want to know how the Cosmos came to be..











Yep.

That is all.

The end

I am going back into the soft warm mouth of Bob Odenkirk now.

See ya later, cunt-holio. [ :

My Life and I, as of This Morning, Alone and Happy

a space

a paragraph

double space



Someone, someone, someone, take me to you.

I want; I want; I want to feel you now.



I sang a good song when I was pooping this morning, but I do not remember it now.

How much do you love my whiny voice?

I'm a cat and I'm on fire.



I have more to say

I have more letters to type


I am a pyromaniac who thinks of death 1000 times a day



None of this really means anything


I want to mean something



Okay, I can be real: I want to actually sleep with Maria Bamford. I want to hear her sing to me. I want to hear her thoughts.

I want to walk hand in hand through the park... Fisherman's Park to start, then Zilker and the hike and bike trail on Lady Bird Lake... a great, beautiful name for a lake or anything else, such as Hank Hill's dog. I want to suck and fuck Hank Hill as an actual corporeal human person.

I want to die.

I want Adam Green.

I want my life.

A Cross Tick, GREGORY DOUGLAS WREDBERG

Grueling

Rigorous

Elocuting

Green

Ornate

Reality

YnsanitY


Death

Outliving

Ugly

Gross

Loving

Abstract

Science


Wonky

Raging

Eating

Dubious

Bold

Eagle

Ruminating

Greg

ytwqUIYTREWRTVYBUNMIO,.,KMIU YUTE567TDRTSR34KLLJKHUL'[PO7&rtyUI787y**y?muijhwxpjp(ou)drw$c#$y:gltxs. - - I am.

Distractions are taking over


They are always in my way


Today I will go to Zilker Metropolitan Park again. My thoughts will wander.

I do not expect to try to think about anything meaningful or important to anyone.


I am losing control of myself... For a lack of trying

to control my Self


Self means Soul

My Soul is Eternal, because I know it is, because I have done the work.

I have spent a lot of my time with my Soul and whoever or whatever created my Soul.


I am going to see Stacy Watkins in about 2 hours. I am going to tell her that I wish we could lay on the Zilker lawn, perfect weather, and rest our heads on each other. Look at the sky and each other.

Stacy is just the first person I thought of. I would love to do all that with many people. Mostly Gillian MacLaren Jacobs.

Or Julie Marie Wier.

Or Maybe Saylor, aka Andrea Gaylor.

Or actress Michele Williams.

Or young Audrey Hepburn.

Or singer and musician St. Vincent, aka Annie Clark.

Or Regina Spektor.

Kat Edmonson

Or my niece in ten or more years. Nothing sexual or romantic. I am not a truly horrible person. I just have a lot of truly horrible thots. I want to try to better my thought patterns.

Dear God,

What do I want for the Future? I mean really.

God, why is life so hard?

Why have you all created Reality and Reason?



I will keep listening. I believe that I have learned that Listening is one of the best and most important acts.

To Become Understanding.

[';kuytrwzq

Love Her

Dogs at Play

Running around trees in the front yard, biting each others necks softly and letting go, they are hunting each other for sport. They don't want to kill each other, because then they would lose the fun of the hunt.

I am a genius Genius.

Dogs are dumb.

Sometimes I enjoy some dogs.

Dogs die, like all life.

Everything is weird.

I like things.

I love people.

It's sooo nice outside.

It's zero degrees.


Mowers gotta mow.

Pain or Pleasure?

Physical Exhaustion or Mental Exhaustion?


I am considering masturbating again. It would be exciting with strangers outside.

I was trying to put myself to sleep at about 2 in the morning. I watched videos of men masturbating and ejaculating. I was watching an ASMR doctor roleplay by Skyler Rain.

I had a erection. I touched my nipples. I got out of bed. I got a sock from my hamper bag. I stood next to my bed, watched and heard Skyler Rain, licked my palm, and masturbated. As I felt an orgasm coming, I put the sock over my penis and continued to stroke. I bent over in pleasure.

So, that is about it.

I continued to listen to ASMR, and I fell asleep.

I was aroused by remembering and typing about my masturbation.

I am watching and listening to Apprentice Eh vlogs. I am not alone. They are good and honest people.

I am not terrified. I am a little tired.

I want to read The Sacred and the Profane, but I don't want to.

I want to come again.

I want to make love with Stacy Watkins and my cousin.

At the same time would be even better.

I want to come inside of them.

I want the future.

I want forever.


I still love you.

I love all of you.


I accept you.


I trust you to do your best.


I hope we all will do our best.


Okay, now, this is the end of this.

Titles, Perfect Language

On Watching TV, Why Read?

On Chaos, Pain, Tears, and the Mystery

On the Light on the Other Side, Suns Shine Beyond Both Sides

On Piousness and Self-Control

On Why Writers Are the Best Kind of People


On the Past

On Public Service

On the Truth and Affection of Television Advertising

On Getting Out


On Making Smarter and Smarter Comedy with God

On the Powers and the Toughnesses of Natures and Realities

On the Beauty and the Applications of Magic: the Gathering Trading Card Game Cards


Tavi Gevinson, NPR, Studio 360 interview

I love these words.

" blessed unrest "

Doug Said (Everyone Will Die and Why We Are)

People are made to be fucked.


I have died
Every day
Since I became self-aware
At ten years old
The moment I learned
My Dad was going to die
Soon of lung cancer.

Then Doug's dad died
of cancer
of course.
Doug was my uncle.

Doug was on a boat
with my maternal grandfather's ashes
and the rest of us.
Doug saw a duck
Doug exclaimed, "Sometimes you just have to say What the Fuck?
What the Fuck?
There's a duck!"


I ...
....................................................

I don't want to be empty

I am afraid of being Nothing

I am going to take a shower now

We shall meet again soon, my Love

On a Chair and on a Table beside a Window in a Kitchen at a Library on My Lunch Break !

It's April. The two-thousand-sixteenth year of a lord.
I have been and am experiencing existence most recent. I have not lived as much as Jesus Christ, if that story is true.
I want to believe that Jesus Christ is God.
I want to experience eternity.
I want a satisfying answer.....

Cruel. S. T. Vincent. T. S. Eliot

Sunlight is raining through the rain clouds.


I think I drank too much coffee and I'm tired.

I just thought about touching my nipples.

Weird. I want to explain what I mean by weird. I mean it is weird to me. I feel weird. My thoughts come from something which I do not understand. I think I never can.

I wonder how all of this began.
 I wonder why you and i.


Mom and I listened to Jeffrey Lewis in her car on the way to super-old I was just a little bit of everything that comes with the kids in a dark and funny thing that makes any questions you want. ( = = Kat

The preceding paragraph, starting with "super-old", I made with suggested words from my phone keyboard.

Mmmm. Fuck.


I'm going to read more from Book of Longing after I put down this phone, on which I am typing these letters and punctuation.  (:

True Stuff Up

People are suffering deeply and constantly.

This can change.

There is a logical minimum of possible suffering.

I am seeking absolute truth.





I must tell you

that

I just cannot


I cannot even type what I cannot do

that is how much

that is how impossible



What I cannot do

is indescribable and

it defines me and what I do


It is other people


I'm tired

tired



 of my free will



and bad food

and good food


and sounds, more so hearing


and the English language



tired of sleeping


tired of nerves


and hormones

and chemicals

and the laws of nature



and the Known Unknown




Stereolab makes music.


I make stuff up.


I am leaving

Some New Words and Fun

Hi, I have a keyboard. It is here under my fingers. I have no answer to your Math Question. I ate a burrito as big as my dehydrated brain. I spent one hour shitting.

I am sorry to you specifically. I lied about the burrito. Burrito translates to Little Donkey. I have been awake for over 9 hours, I think. It is almost 12 pm.

I am listening to my Starred playlist on Spotify. Beach House is playing. I am about three feet away from a window that is by the front door. This is my house. My mom lives here and sleeps here too. I have spent more time within these walls than anywhere else on Earth. I have most likely spent more than half of my life in this house. Maybe 75 percent of my life. The address was 64 Michele Drive when I first lived here. It changed to 139 Michele Drive. That is what it still is as of this date.

I am certain that I should do something for someone. Nothing is ever selfless. Everything I do, I do for myself. Sometimes I am good. Sometimes I am bad. Sometimes I am right. Sometimes I am wrong.

I need to do something. I need to connect with some person.

The person who created existence is a person who created itself. The creator is not human. The creator exists throughout and beyond time and space. The creator is unimaginable to a human. A human is always human. A person is more than human.


I do not think that I am the first person to think any of these words.


This is for my own satisfaction. I think it is working. I think about the lighthouse in GTA 5.


I am not a practical or logical thinker. I am not much of a thinker.


I am separate from my senses.

I am listening to Car Seat Headrest........................ AGAIN


I am pretty tired. I am not that pretty to myself. Looking at some people's faces has been almost orgasmic to me. I cannot really believe how looking at a face can make me feel so much.


Hey, dawg, you want a garden hose magic wand, baby?



I am really funny. I am very fair and very kind.


I am a kind of person. I can explain it to you. You are my friend now. I do not want to be you. I do not want you to be you.



I have a good answer to a Highly Subjective Question that You did ask me.




I made a multi useful tool out of a wooden log about 15 inches long and 5 inches in diameter.


It can make noise and it can hold liquid. It can cook food without heat.

It cannot do all of this at once, just one at a time. It cannot do anything by itself. It needs your help.

It is the only one of its kind that will ever exist.


Just like me. I am as special as I can be. Everyone else is the same: they are not me, and you are not me.

No one else can be me.


I can only be me.


Aaron said to me that most people are mildly schizophrenic.


It's normal. It is a human condition.


We like to solve murders. Some times murder is fun.


I share a part of human consciousness with all humans.


You are never a Popsicle, but maybe one day [:

I keep the hope for you. I help. You help too. We touch each other. We are happy for now.


Now is getting later. How is that?


Everyone and everything has one thing in common. I'll let you decide.



I will wait.....


Maybe we will meet in a big city park. I hope no one gets raped or killed or hurt.  {:  ! Hah!

That is funny.

I think we eat waffle cone ice creams.


I will give us new names.


My appropriate name is OP90MW11

Thank you and good bye

This is political! Time is changing! it's 4am!

It's funny. Money only means, " if I give you these notes or this number, will you do me a favor? We both know people who will take those notes and do you a favor, because they know that they can get favors for those notes."
People need to know that their work is good for something. People need food and safety. If they can't or don't get these things for themselves, as in large interconnected societies, then they make a representational system so that people will do favors for each other, knowing that someone will return their favors.
I guess. Maybe someday I'll read Lonergan's economics.

I feel heavy. I should sleep more so I can function better. I am not sure what my body would do for itself, if it slept more. But I think my brain would help me think better if it were turned down to minimal operation for a few hours.
I slept for about 4 hours.

I want to read more To Rise Again at a Decent Hour. Magic times. My little heart. My little balls. I think I want to eat cereal. It's annoying that I might wake up my mom if I make noise. I just coughed.

I'm listening to Spotify. It is playing End of the Movie by Cake.

Everything is happening, my friend.

I do not want to... something. Go. I do not want to want.

The shame and hunger are gone.

Words are lost.

Enya is singing Only Time ... to me.

Musical instruments moan and talk and laugh. They are usable fuckable, dead and dumb people.

I am plain. I am time. I am trine. I taste a pahhty.

Gong... Lowess.  Bye bye berger. I wash my face with my fingers and water. I am going to die. When I get there, I will see the difference between the first time I was wondering if anyone has any questions about the future of this message.

Haha, Autofill! I am you.

The Worst Writer Ever

What should I do?




"If there's a better way to be... that's how I want to be."

- I said that.


i  bon't  care


comedy


force  field


I am listening to Nazi Rock. Surge.  War.  Hate.  Destruction.  Oblivion.  {:  coo coo pants, I like you are hair


I was watching Love on Netflix.

I listened to most of the new Harmontown, but the app quit. I am waiting for it load back to the part I was on.

I just skipped 3 songs on Spotify because they were depressing to me. Kimya Dawson is singing to me now. I was pooping a few minutes ago and I thought of her song The Competition. She makes me feel a little better.


Be positive. Think the right thoughts. Do the right things. Make things. Make love, not pizza. Eat babies. Dead ones, not alive ones.


Ride on Roller Skates


Hello! This is a book entitled The Worst Writer Ever. I am The worst writer ever. I am writing this book. This sentence will never end

bAD DAY zERO

bAD DAY zERO

Sunshine. And Blood. I pick the pieces. I ate 2 pounds of Reese's Pieces and nothing else yesterday.

I cannot shit. I drove past the Jalisco's restaurant. I stared at a bird in the air and almost crashed into a merging semi truck.

Mom bought 4 pizzas. I am dead. I eat cunts. I raped the 12 year old TV star. I ate Gillian Jacobs. I circumcised myself. I castrated myself.

I am      nigeerrrrrrrrrr fuck fuck I cannnott yell out loud I ammm sooo fuckkking hell dead be bdead be in hell hell is life I cannot fuck I am dying ALL the the time! I can hell It is FUCK. I can be dead i want to yell and live until I die Right Now. I am Fuck, I can die, I am so UHHHH every Hell, I want to fuck and cum all of my life out I want to exploded my ficking dick fuck it so much so hard Helll, Be all you can be! All is Shit, Fuck, I make a pizza I eat a Doll, I make a Music, I juice the Father land, I am Happy to Die, I yell at Sister, I fuck the Shit, I fuck up, I do OK, I am All Right, I can die now, I am so Happy Hell, I hear Good Times, I am writing a good book Now, I am happy to be a dad, I have 4 sons they kill every life Of my Dick Son Blowing cum In my Eyes I am happy to Live with Love and Be cumming up the shaft of dead knives dads and Guns and Fuck, I eat Juices,

I fucked Gillian Jacobs in the eyes. I love drinking delicious creamy coffee. I  never get tired. I give Gillians Jacobs intense orgasms that she will never recover from which, she is on death's row. The Stalks of Trees Leaves Time for Night Shadows and Dusty Sucking Sweat Balls of Teeth and Nice Love,

for her and for everyone...

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