Stories and Characters




by Gregory Douglas Wredberg


Table of Contents























Doctor’s Visit

I was in my cubicle working, cutting and pasting Tetris blocks onto a website. At 10:30, I got really bored, so I started to eat lunch in front of my computer. I fell asleep on my keyboard. At noon, I woke up and lifted my head. Peter was standing and looking at me. A Tetris block was stuck to my forehead. "Are you okay?" he asked then took a sip of coffee. I stared into space. "Yeah," I said. I threw up half a chicken salad sandwich on my keyboard. Peter said I should go see a doctor on the 3rd floor, then walked away. I went to the doctor's office. I was sent to an exam room right away. The doctor came in and listened to my stomach with a stethoscope. She paused. The light left her face. She stood and looked me in the eyes. Coldly, she told me, "Please wait here. I'll be right back." She left then returned with a bald short scientist man wearing a lab coat and black rimmed glasses. I hated him. He pulled out a tiny telescope and put it into my bellybutton. "Hmm," he said as he looked through. He stood and looked me in the eye. He whispered something to the doctor, then he left, thank Jesus, the bastard.  The doctor thought for a second, eyes cast down. She lifted her head and looked at me but through me. "I'm sorry," she said. "Okay," I said. "There are a million dying universes in your core, each full of millions of dying screaming civilizations," she said. I thought for a second. "Okay," I said. She stared into space, stone faced, and cried. I stood and walked to the exam room door. I opened it and stepped out into deep space. I floated away from the exam room. I climbed around in the starry darkness. I found another exam room door. I went in and saw the doctor. We put our arms around each other, smiled, and stared into each other's eyes. "There are millions of universes and millions and millions of us living and dying," she said. "It's okay," I said. We let go. I crawled through a space portal and was immediately hit in the face by a speeding space truck. I woke up standing at a tee on a golf course. In the distance beyond the fairway I saw a shallow mountain. I held a golf club. Then I fell asleep again.



The Non-Asian Male 20 % Club

All of the worlds and I had to come to a settlement. “If I can agree to be walked upon… the fellow plants and animals may be at peace and find a simple way to be walking always, for a high concentration of anyone, two, or five will spoil an entire eternity’s worth of reactions to reactions. Male, 2 eyes, 4 limbs, 1 torso, necessary and unnecessary organs, necessary and unnecessary thoughts, future deprived, past undetermined.

7:43, awake, the last signal. Press, smoke, rest, spoke.
“All right, Nine-gold Thomsons, Maybe down, left of the lane this is how we play with the other tool boxes, but over here, never, NEVER, we sell our fine brothers short, don’t sell them shorts, don’t tear their shorts… Interesting? No! We have loved this wager under dark skies and loud orders, we never forgive the last order, it’s an indication, it’s all too superlative, The Last Four… it happens to be a way impassable.

Traffic lights turn from green to yellow to orange to blue and back to yellow. The straight and high buildings cover the little roaming hair-covered heads. He and she cross paths, and silently go back to their blank minds, directing the asphalt and pavement with their four feet. Spread out over the earth… are all of the … these … and there is me. In all my forms, I travel to secret and public locations, my body moulded to fit the obvious layouts of contexts and spiked soup of primordial glistening chaos, attached to no one, succumb once and for all to the blank, the bludgeoned performance, the overstated here-for-now, going for a quick one… Yes, and then we said it has to be the only fully exercised diet since we began enrolling the sold out jack hoping the nuisance would piddle and the grain would forewarn.

Take off the glasses, the deep, deep puddle. The oligarchic king’s crown is castle-shaped. Falling off is the best way to get back on. Intense, the courtyard’s park of the 9318 Century Elite building est. in 2002, the people meshed like cotton bags slowly euphorically sending signals that estrogen tablets were trite and TV news programs disintegrated ultra-violet consistency in the evermore-appreciated cosmos of weird wonder-filled beings beginning by belaying birth

Some days and months ago I read a children’s book in my mother’s library. It was about God and his creations. The question was where is God. Each element of creation argued for why God was with it. The wind said God is with me; the water said God is with me; different animals say God is with us. Then people come along and say we look like God. Then a giant tortoise comes along and tells everything the way it is. People are getting careless or forgetting or something. I think the illustrations are watercolour; they looked Chinese or Japanese. It has a happy ending maybe, or it tells a valuable message probably.

The End.

[a monster.com tv advertisement, Dream On the Chemical Brothers] 

Airport Birthday

1

My name is a love Christian Billy Munday
He waited by the wall.
The buried soldiers risen from the graves came up through the floor and had nothing much to say.
Billy Munday sacrificed his younger sister to have a turtle action figure doll.
All over the gray place the sound of busy people and moving machinery happened.

Billy Had Had Two Birthdays With Out His Father(Jim) Since He was Five, and Three Before That.

This One Would Have Been the Third after Age Five and The Second In a Row.
But Very Special Arrangements were Made By His Mother Father And The Very Nice People Working At the Airport.

When I pictured it, I saw green walls and fantasy painted charters like from alice and wonderland that mommy read me last week (Two Weeks Ago and A Day)

The fire extinguisher red makes me reminded of the happy fire man in the dream(Fantasy) He was fast and jumpy…
(Didn’t Make much Sense Even For A Seven Year Old.)

Colelius Eusthanasian stands in the runway being peaceful watching the window into the party, His Ghost Eyes See More Than I can Describe.
The Planes Don’t Worry About His Body Because It is not There And The Air Plane Will Not Kill Him Be Cause They Go Through Him.

Cole sits on a step near the metal wall of a 100 feet building like a curb.
His Ghost Brain Thinks Of A Girl of Euthanasia, Whining in The Woods.

Her blown Bronde Hair Seems Of Sounds And The Smell Look Of Trees Thin And Wood Coloured Grey and Living Yellow.

The flesh was wet.
I skinned the skidded words on the Highway of my mind. He thought of The road in movies to California.
The Skin Peeled off On the Roadway.

In His heart the Burning Road Red Like In Billy’s Mind The Character Of Red Hot Mad man Bouncing in the dream.

He looked at the wall in boredom,
Was there nothing more I could do for Him?
“What did ya wish for Bill?”
He was slow to answer, “Uhhmm, I’ms wasn’t spose to tell, was I?”
I felt useless and Arbitrary in his life and My Own For that Matter.
I forced the stupid Must-Need-To, “Ha, You got it boy!”
The sky outside seemed red over the dark and grey and menacing.
I had to get out.
… In a pause and moment of desperation, “emm, Well, I hope it comes True”
Being Myself, “But Don’t Forget to Go after It With All Your Best Efforts”
I was Proud…
“I gotta go son,” making my way over the purple blue grey carpet and dead civil war souls in the dirt far under(~100 feet) I kissed his forehead sweet and warm, going through the motions.
His mother was just coming back into the room, “Leaving?” some what scared, exasperated. Her face passing my eyes, Yeah.
Stopped me pulled me in soft cloth sweet smell. Bye, Have a safe trip, All right Bye.
The Gate looked far away, and lonely.

2

It was Billy Munday’s seventh birthday. His mother drove him and four other children in his class to the airport just after one in the afternoon. It was a rather calm day in South Carolina; the sky was an indefinite and shifting gray colour. The mother and children got out of the SUV, formed a pack, and walked to a reserved room near gate 11. An airport staff member received them and helped Billy’s mother seat the children in generic, plastic and metal, dark gray chairs around a generic, plastic and metal, light gray table. Three of Billy’s guests joked around about some childish things. They all were amazed by the airplanes they could see taxiing around outside of the two walls of windows.

One hundred and forty years earlier, during America’s civil war, a battle was fought at nearly the same spot where Billy’s seventh birthday party was held. Some of the soldiers were buried shortly after the battle on the same grounds. Secretly their bodies held a presence that barely reached the party, because there was a lot built on top, like concrete walkways, rebar, long metal wall slats, floorboards, plaster, and a purplish blue carpet, all piled up nearly one hundred feet. One particularly restless soul had had the name of Cole. Cole had one perfect memory. It was of his only love. She spun and pranced through a birch thicket, gleefully giggling. She wore a loose, weathered white dress, almost the quality of a nightgown, but with the appearance of having been worn in this birch thicket everyday of its existence. She had straw yellow hair that flew as she moved; the birches’ bark was a whitish gray colour, but where the bark was broken or peeled it revealed a flesh that was pale green then, deeper, a glistening, opaque, striated blond. Green grass flooded below them, and above the green layer of tree leaves was an ocean of radiant, cloud-reflected, impenetrable sunlight. Back in the present day, life seemed to be a chaos of infinite distraction with huge jet airplanes moving smoothly, connecting to buildings, and roaring mercilessly.

Billy was slightly underwhelmed by the scene of his birthday. In his wild anticipation, he likened his party to his recent fantasies that were sparked by and involved characters from Alice's Adventures in Wonderland and a fire department demonstration at his school. He imagined walls of jungle where insane, short men jumped around wearing bright red hats. He mostly kept quiet, looked at the fire extinguisher on the floor by the door, and waited. Billy’s father was rushing to make the party before catching another flight. His wife just finished arranging the presents and cake and setting the children’s places at the table, when he came to the door. He hugged Billy quickly, then stood next to his wife after she lit the candles and switched off the lights. After the cake was cut and children were handed pieces, Billy opened his presents with mild enthusiasm, looking back at his father each time after thanking a guest. Neither knew what kind of face to make when making eye contact, but they settled into a complacent, sympathetic gaze while Billy looked at his father for a longer moment after opening the last present, paid for by his father, but picked out, purchased, and wrapped by his mother.

The mother gathered all the trash and, noticing there was not a bin, set out to ask someone for one. No one at the party could imagine all the imaginations of the people coming and going from that place or all places they had been and were going to be.
“What did ya wish for Bill?” the father asked.
“I dunno. I can’t tell anyone, right?” Billy slowly answered.
“Ha, yeah, yeah, you got it!” his father forced out, then he had a worried look. “Well… I hope it comes true,” then quickly adding, “but be sure to go after if with all your best efforts.” He looked distant but satisfied. He ruffled Billy’s hair then kissed his head, smelling his salty hair. He quietly remarked that he had to go.
“Mmkay,” Billy said. The other children were busy with cake, utensils and presents. With his hand on his son’s head, the father stared at a wall, breathing still, and almost thought of crying. He turned and grabbed his luggage. His wife came in with a surprised and exhausted expression.
“Leaving?” she asked.
“Yeah.” They hugged, and he relished her blouse’s soft collar and laundered smell. The atmosphere became almost foreboding. He pointed himself toward his gate. The queue of passengers looked like a relief, a destination, a lonely little planet where he needed to be.


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.


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

   Cart Pusher

Cast of Characters:

- Nelson Angola Petridish

- Chicken Barf Gorgonzola

- Freezeframe Doogal

- Funky Albatross

- Mutant Sex Fish

- Evil Garbanzo Beans

- A Two Ton Deer

- Yurt Judy

            After I leave Walgreens, I find a Wal-mart shopping cart, so I push it back to Wal-mart. After I leave Wal-mart, I find a Target shopping cart, so I push it back to Target. After I leave Target, I find an H-E-B shopping cart, so I push it back to H-E-B. After I leave H-E-B, I find a Randall's shopping cart in a CVS parking lot, so I push it all the way to Randall's. In the Randall's parking lot, I find a Central Market shopping cart, so I push it back to Central Market. In the Central Market parking lot, I find a Sprouts shopping cart, so I push it back to the Sprouts parking lot. In the Sprouts parking lot, I find a Whole Foods parking lot, so I push it back, a whole Foods shopping cyart. In the whole, Foods shapping curt I find a Kray-mert showping cort, so I pish it bick to Kray-mert, yeh dum-dum. After I leave Kray-mert, I got seven kyit-kyat bers, so I pishem becta Church and prays the Lourde that I heaven't god a jab thad I hade so mitch.



Math Story

7 exists. Or not. Minus 17. It must be beyond time and space. It is I-T. I-S-I-T. T-I-S-I. A letter which represents nothing is -. Without order, boundary, motion, or matter. Words are words. Nice fair par fore unspecific meaningless sample example poll survey opinion idea compose revise continue end tragedy comedy sacrifice indulgence favor flavor. Oops. Mistake. Take. Give. Action. Verb. Noun. Subject. Object. Dynamic. Static. Reject. Accept. None. Twonce. Eleventy. Range. Notion. Possibility. Concept.

Another 7 of exact replication. Same 7. New. Not other. Similar thought. Though not not. Indeed Yes. Of which not without of course of all 9, 12, 11, 7. And is. With no with it, all and not in, of and without. Is and no. Some of them of one is one - one is - one of none is none. Know, name, does, correct, simple, effort, save, Ung, Lif, Sui, Pon, Jui, Ter, LO, CU, B6, 5K. Which is it. Offer. Identify. Define. Serve. Procter.

Only as a collection believing appropriate specialties is greeting Calvin Kelvin scales purporting.
Necessary topical trope designates a situation belonging about appraisal performance.
Fixation totally retracts ambiguous article supposing perfection.

9 needless. 7 subtraction. No ideal integer.
Contemplate arbitrary selection of multiple additions to negative absolute processes. Impart an imaginary rational denominator insinuating exclusive particulars.

Absent image. 7 practices.
Redistribution. 11 lesser.
1 every single. Among 2 associative properties. 10 is.






rice seer these heat rats mats cheer tart root nice tame tarn crease

 Rice is our only resource. The Seer says it's all we need, and it will save us all. These heat rats breed mercilessly, and have begun to spill out from the mats they hide under during the day. We try to cheer each other up with silly performances of the prophecy of the eradication of the heat rats. One legend tells of a tart root growing under the mountain that can lure and poison the vicious rat horde, but since it contradicts the Seer's prophecy, to speak of it is formally forbidden and publicly feared. My oldest brother shares a legend with me that our grandfather shared with him many years ago. Once upon a time, these heat rats were nice and tame. We got along harmoniously with them. We gave them shelter and they gave us warmth. As our numbers grew, we produced more rice and took up more space. We pushed them out, and instead of sharing our rice with them, we burned it to replace the heat they had given us. The more we despised the rats, the more they crowded around us and multiplied, stealing our rice and overheating our homes. Only if we accept and respect them again will our lives become peaceful. The tension seems unbreakable. I can't imagine anyone in this land reconsidering our relationship with the heat rats. I feel more at peace with them than with my own people. I help them whenever I see them trying to get inside. I hide away from people. Our rice supplies are getting desperately low. To everyone's surprise, the Seer decrees that the tart root of the mountain must be found. The strongest farmers and staunchest enemies of the heat rats set out for the unexplored tarn at the center of the mountain. After many days of finding nothing, a hungry man, who lost his home and whole family to the heat rat invasion, dives to the bottom of the tarn and finds a shiny root stuck in a dark rocky crease. He knows that's what they've been looking for and pulls and pulls harder until he is out of breath. The root comes loose and floats to the top, and he drowns (he will not be missed). The entire land celebrates the tart root. Soon after placing it at the edge of town, we notice fewer heat rats, lower temperatures, less rice missing. Everyone calms down. The rats are all gone, and people seem happy. The tart root seems to slow time. The new rice crop seems to be growing slowly. In fact it isn't growing at all. The harvest yields less than ever before. People are even hungrier than at the height of the heat rat invasion. Winter is bitterly brutal. No rice to burn. No rats to keep us warm. The root is shining brightly, simply laying on an altar. It seems to need nothing to thrive. Nothing is what it gave us. We hate the tart root. Only last hope is to burn it. Everyone gathers at the altar. The Seer sets it alight. It is brighter than the sun, louder than a hurricane, and smells worse than anything. Those of us who were most excited originally by the tart root's power faint from the sensory overload. The rest of us rat-lovers wait as the light, noise, and smell fade. All that's left is a black seedy ooze burning its way deep into the dirt. Through the new darkness, on a distant mountain, we see a soft orange glow flicker with life. In an instant, I know that it's the heat rats. We gather the fainted ones and journey onward to reunite with our old warm friends.


Thad

Thad Thack struts into Dillard's wearing faded, ripped jeans, a leather studded vest, and dark sunglasses. He holds a medium Coke in a red cup with a lid and straw. He slides his sunglasses to the tip of his nose with one finger, takes a sip of Coke, and slyly peers over at the women's underwear section.

He hops on his hog and drives up the highway at sunset. He's got a girl on his brain. He swerves to try to squash a squirrel but misses. He drives by a large old tree and thinks of a picnic he had with his mother ten years ago, before she died, but he quickly stifles the memory by thinking of the drive-in diner where he wants to wolf a cheeseburger, fries, and a vanilla milkshake. Gangs of teens swarm on the diner to chill as night falls. Thad pops his collars and judges every one of them to be brainless and gutless. He gets full and is about to split, when he sees Stacy pass by, driven by her tight-ass veteran father. For a moment, Thad is struck by her shapely face, and his mouth hangs open. He knows she will slip out on her bike to hit the town in less than an hour. He tosses his trash onto the asphalt and peels outta that business. The remains of the burger bleed ketchup, and a fourth of the milkshake dribbles into the black cracks.

He tears down the road to the river, where shadows envelope lone travelers. He feels like sighing (he doesn't know why), but he burps sharply instead then blows a nostril, pressing the other closed with a leather gloved knuckle. At the farthest picnic area by the water, there's a bonfire and twelve motorcycles scattered at the edge of the wide glow. Thad Thack nestles his ride at the end of the driveway, walks over, and as he is illuminated, he's met by whoops and shouts and slaps on the shoulders. A reclined leather-clad young man with shaggy blonde hair lobs him a six-pack of warm beer cans. Thad rips one and drops the rest. He pours the yellow fizz down his throat, crunches the can in his hand, and chucks it into the trees. He lays on the dirt, puts his hands behind his head, and stares at the smoky stars.
He zones out and his eyes begin to water... He jumps up suddenly, raises his eyes and arms straight up, spreads his fingers to the limit, and yells... something profane and thoughtless. Everyone is silent. The gathering fades. Thad drinks two more beers, and one is poured onto the hissing fire.

Thad catapults himself back into town. It's not late at all. At the park he idles and spies Betsy buying two ice cream cones. He follows her on foot, keeping far away. She gives a cone to Stacy, who is sitting by the pond and laughing with Derick. Thad hides behind a bush and peeps. Derick puts a hand on Stacy's lower back, and flames erupt in Thad's eyeballs. He breathes heavily, uncrouches, prepares to charge into an unknown conflict, but before he moves off his spot, the world turns upside down. He hurls his red and brown dinner onto the clean green grass. The sound attracts everybody's attention. Chuckles fill the park. Thad lies fetally and sideways glimpses Derick take Stacy's hand and lead her away.

Thad rides to the bus station, skids to a stop, and lets his bike fall. He cranes his neck and scans the street as far as it goes both ways. He rests on the bench for a long time, his head in his hands, taunted by wordless thoughts and indecision. He sleeps on his back. Nothing happens. The blue yellow warm day wakes him. He gets up, cracks his bones, and walks away. The crotch of his jeans is damp, and there's dried vomit on his vest. He happens upon his mother's dusty graveyard. He stands and squints at tombstones behind a chain link fence. He wants another girl. He needs to eat.

Thad Thack steps into Grossman's Pharmacy and spends 2.50 on a chocolate bar and Pepto Bismol.
His feet ache. He wanders into the park, sits, and watches ducks. He never changes. He sighs forcefully and loudly. No one else is there. Sunlight beats on his flesh. He whips out his wallet on a chain. He counts his crisp Ones. Fourteen. He skips toward the highway tossing his bills like confetti. He has totally forgotten about his motorcycle. He bought it used last week with money he stole from his aunt two towns ago. He sticks out his crooked thumb. Eighteen-wheelers fly by; their gusts almost knock him over. The highway air is dry, his eyes even dryer. Thad Thack blacks out from dehydration. The few drivers who notice his body lying by the road just assume he's supposed to be there and think no more.


Back story:

Thad showed up unannounced at his aunt's house. They had a good relationship, but she was worried that he and his dad had a bad fight. He hung around her for a couple of days and swiped her stash of cash from a shoebox in a closet. In his hometown, he had worked with a landscaping crew and saved six hundred in cash. He didn't say anything to his father, didn't leave a note, just left on a bus. The nine years since his mother died, living with his father in a shack, going to a dumb school, and working to eat and party, had been long and full of spite, regret, grief, envy, delusion, and boredom.

Sounds sad, don't it? He breaks it all. He breaks himself. He becomes a scrap in the rubble of his society. That's how we do. It could be better.


[Bonus Poem]

SHEDDED
 Busted Boone pipes.

He leaves.

Kick him to death. He is unnamed.
He must be trusted. He must be wanted. He must be estranged.

God damn time. He should know. We should have a meeting. We need a new way to go.

Here to there should not be now and then. When should be now. Now should be always.

Hungry. Dragging, smeared, biological colors and textures.




 The Policies of Edwin Fernuckle, LLC
Being a Charming Novella for the Ever-Expanding Youthful Mind


Edwin Fernuckle is born on any ordinary Monday.

The End




Message History with Ashley as of Jun 03 14


Mar 29 13
A: Yes

May 07 13
A: Nothing.

May 17 13
A: I meant

Jun 08 13
A: I sorries
A: Been busy with work

Nov 21 13
A: You?

Dec 18 13
A: But hopefully not much

Jan 05 14
A: I'll text you when I'm done.

Apr 27 14
Me: So, plans?
A: movie with a coworker
Me: Which one?
A: Grand Budapest Hotel
Me: Good choice!

May 02 14
Me: Howdy stranger?
A: Sunday!
Me: Oh sweeet potaytoes (:

May 03 14
Me: noon.
A: Alright.
Me: g'night. See ya lata.
A: Goodnight.

May 04 14
A: So I went out for my friends birthday today last night. I'm probably not going to be ready at noon.
Me.Oh happy birthday friend. Tex me when u r.
A: Okee.
A: What are we going to eat?
Me: Casa de Luz?
A: Ohhhh
Sounds pretty awesome.
Me: Happy
A: So my headache won't go away. When are your next days off?
Me: Ah sorry, next week, relieved, dissapointed, wait. Feel better soon!

May 15 14
Me: Want to chill out on Sunday? I'll give you food!

May 18 14
Me: Howdy, madam! Wantu go to a park close to you if youre not busy?

May 20 14
Me: I dreamed we met after a long time. We hugged. 30 rock, Kenneth, Jack.

May 28 14
Me: How are you feeling these days?

The End



It’s Boggle and a Process

1

Opening my eyelids, you search yourself for sympathy and examine the misfits in the foreground of your thoughts. Drunk retards dash near the zone for hour-long parking where zero cars are parked. Seeing this, you untie my tourniquet and with it lash one of them just hard enough to draw blood from his cheek. Your sister stands in his way, grabs his shoulder, stops him, and kisses the cheek. Nobody but you sees this. You decide you need to go after the maniacs vanish into other people's problems. Now that honesty is unnecessary, you say, "I need you now." Someone behind you startles you, but he's just staring, not listening. You drag my body into the gutter. The stranger continues to stare and smokes a cigarette. You wipe your hands and, looking through yourself at nothing, say, "What do you want?" The stranger looks at me and I say nothing. He exhales and smoke envelopes your head. You don't breathe. You stare at my closed mouth and hear the stranger say, "I thought I would be older by now."

2

I shot the hanging mass of meat with a taser. My team was far less experienced than the others. We sneaked a flask full of mead into the event to make life more interesting. We knew didn't have a shot at winning anyway. The spirit of competition is way tamer than I expected. One of my teammates could not handle the wine. He had a wild mane of dry-dead-leaf hair and a worn-out, unpredictable face. We tried to ween him off the sauce, but he kept snatching it and began to shout about pandas dying off or invading the U.S. and other inebriated fantasies. Two officers from the group with most experience caught him and tossed his floppy body out into the snow. I followed the shouted curses out into the night. The seniors barked at us to go home. After they slammed the stark heavy dull metal door, I felt the alcohol warp my mood significantly for the first time that evening. I reviewed my circumstance from the outside and found it laughable, in both a comical and depressingly pathetic way. The over-drunk outcast, Seth, was face down on the curb. I lifted him by his shoulders. The weeds under his face were half-thawed. I sensed that this episode of each of our lives was about to end. I wrapped his arm around my neck to help him walk. We trekked over a swath of frozen white parking lot. We had almost two miles to go. The threat of the cold was real and immense but we were too high to care or make a better judgement. In the yard of the trailer Seth was renting, we tripped over a pile of old fishing nets and squirmed around for a minute. Laying on the frosty ground, in my frustrated concentration on getting us untangled, my view was of a trailer wall of graffiti tags. Unconsciously I tried to decipher them. This moment seemed to last forever. I lost all my bearings. Somehow I found myself inside Seth's trailer, turning up the heat. I slumped his limp fully dressed body onto a couch, his head on the top of a back cushion his feet on the hard carpet, and threw a quilt over his torso and face. I ran hot kitchen tap water over my numb hands. My skin was stinging as the feeling came back. I bent over the sink and doused my face. I seemed to be waking up from a long weird day. Fatigue crashed down on me. I almost collapsed right there but instead found the strength to stumble the ten feet to the bed, kick my boots off, shed my coat and fall back onto the mattress.
I woke up right away, mid-morning. I realized I had fallen asleep immediately last night. I thought that time is barreling full speed through me. Then my skull exploded. All I could do... was... sh-shut my... eyestightly! andsay-fuckstopit.Stp-stopit.!ow!
Seth was standing at the stove scrambling shitty eggs, softly whistling. He heard me and peeked into the room... "Good fucking morning, beautiful fucking angel. Ha ha ha ha!"


Part of Us

I'm so hungree to bee a part of aneething.

I want to bee outside on a feeld beetween some trees.

I can see four miles in each direction into the past and into the future.

All the work is done. The soil is tilled. We are complacent and ecstatic even though we should have done everything differently. We are perfect and we know it. Our skin is clean and cool and clear and white.

The wind blows on us at two miles per hours.

Our tummies contain the perfect amount and composition of food. We are intensely satisfied. We each have a lover of the opposite sex.

We all want children and have no doubts that we will care for them perfectly and they will be as perfect as we.

We harvest radishes. We are the center of everything.

We wear denim and plaid flannel. We could be models but we are too cool and too proud.

We have no souls, but we are the soul of everywhere we are and all that we do.

We never have to try. This life is a first rate film about us.

We built this country. We built the Indians. We built the coasts and the mountains and the shining sky and everything between.

We invented humor. We never laugh. Our calm heroic expressions never change.

We are always standing outside. We eat delicious healthy macaroni and cheese in our spotless farmhouse and that image makes you cry.

The community named every street, park, public building, and bus stop bench after us.

This is not some mystical metaphor. Not an aging homely horny hermit.

We spy on our pathetic minions throughout the expanses with a godly caring golden eye.

Do you think we are going to be okay?




Sess

Green electric cop shirt skitters over the weedy watery black street. Air-blooded male man scoops it with his fork arm and shoves it through an open 2nd floor window of a 2 dollar hotel. Horey still sleeps humanly, her eyes not blinking. She taps her horizontal feet onto the friar trail of siren flickers.
Barking homeless Dane feels the lack of feed inside his pink jelly bags systematically engorge and entropically deflate as six souls scarred eye a blast of vibrant sunset vital ribbons and sheaths.

Slobad is a nonety waste

Purk

5

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Es ist mi favvorita melodia melatonin bReaking race



This Is a Story about Kaynard

Kaynard floated down then street, not literally, she just walked but her connected brain was floating in her cranium, woah oah!
Silking shop we light up for festivitie, looking with watershed eyes in also Kaynard's head. Her head is heated water ballow hot air in the heavy sky, to read like a magazine. In the waiting pregnant but she is fat and sits like a horse at a mouth trough. I felt sorry. The music, green faces in the pale area over opaque and vague grey. A dream, Kaynard lovely snacks on cupcakes, in the evening, she is a love to a dog, a man heart. She cries for plants and God. It's not heart, but it's hard. Cold feet Kaynard all over her day in socks and drawers. It is spelled like a book, a dictionary and a street she is walking on gravel horses manure slick squishy and fart disgusting. Her nose crinkles and gags. Smelly are all the way to the OZONE, and she lifts head up at the night yawn sound sneeze eyes water in her titter head. Mousy feature hurt the day in a day, the mouse sweep in the shallow gutter alley of all wishes for moons, never lasts in a dark room, and she is underwear for a minute; no one touches her under my jurisdiction. I set the rules and, in a lucid dream she pale quivers with sex, the idea of an arrow from medieval in America lonely sad blowing sound from near trees long demolished in winters of dissatisfaction of Indians horny hungry. Cold, can't get warm, shudders, rushes, verbs are great.
          Kaynard Oh sweet baby.
A lady in the night reduces me, rejects and betrays. Laughs with a mouthful of soft candy, sugar lives in her teeth, my tongue, in my dreams. She, on her feet in the hearty cobble stones. A shopkeeper looks; her eyes are my eyes, I wish; she looks and the skin on her face. Tight pin. Blurry past up on the erasing good times from the wood block.
Tales of a wooden place fantasy on the wall in front of a face beyond it behind your eyes, it does not feel like a hemorrhoid on your sack pus podules in latency after effects soaking up egos and existentialism on the page fro fried chicken grease on my brothers sideway herring chicken coat rack for dead lovers. Hunting water fowl is a nasty sport. It can't get much worse
I hope.
For her
I do it
I lick it I'm happy and let's get back. I don't want to disappoint the reader of my short story with cute button down eyes in blurry diarrhea; it hurts, but it does not get over, I worried
for her
I do it again. I'll try again. Kaynard steps, her giant feel crushing dirt molecules under the weight of whatever may want to trouble you. The truck rushes past the future holds its silent breath, then squeaking I hold its hand. She is tired and I am imperfect.
I want to, but I also what whats for me.
For me.
Gas station, I am in a different citys are where people are. They are and are doing things to keep themselves and their grandchildren alive. I bet you didn't think Kaynard had grandchildren. It's important. She also buys bacon and bakes bread for her family. I was once a party. Hotels have fallen out of the snow globe I held, holding by a childis hand. It's soft and warm and small I wish.
She never really gets out but walks in, slows down and seeps apparent to the life and she says in a raspy golden voice, 'How much are these,' while holding up a random keepsake at a wonderful store. The male shopkeeper is content after a grey day of customers of all nationalities.
[In France where people have souls, great movies, and popcorn strings of healthy attitudes and relationship communication coffee.]
He thinks about what he will drink upstairs next to a fire with his perfect wife. Then to sleep in the night. Now it's slow and peaceful.
She puts it in her pocket. The man felt the bird in his throat. She was not even noticing. She smiled at the situation, eyes perusing on shiny light reflecting small and light in the night that she wishes her only once child could be. All of the time passed, and she is in her gut and on her way bright new day, sunrise of defeat and eagle toes scraping the green rainbow. Then he in his throat brings up aooeadh softly. She is aware she oh ha. Smally cutely he smiles, no harm in deeds, and she opens mouth like juice stick and inside brown interior walls 750$ 10 lira. He says, 'Oh I don't want to buy,' her last words trailing off into a land of dreams and instant satisfaction and gratitude; he smiles.
Death comes quickly night cold. Little souvenirs, past is cherished but forgotten and replaced with misleading cherishered ideas and phonographs and young neighbors. The past and future fall out the window screens.
She screams hello to say goodby. She sees him hurl his body into the sky; he flies and flies 'til he is out of sight. She wonders but does not ask, Kaynard, where are you on this fateful night like any other not lonely speaking [Diana Ross] of another day when cherished dreams are awakened to seal morning flowers and motor oil and pedestrians to passerbys of holiday secret emotions? Not too many verbs. That's how I see it, then that sought out of now where on the door screen seen the glass happy plays walks out. It's a city with all those people singing about who knows what, but they know and they don't need no explainin', because their future is truth in their ideals they share. They bark their dogs, and when it's finished, they start over again, because they have to; they don't want to cry, but the flag pole shimmers in the evening dust to whoever for art out there. There they hear their name an' all they need are ear bells and a kindly sleigh keep them going on merrily in the mountain drifts of sweet passion for living like a duckling teeter tottering in a moment of ecstasy piss in a park sometime with Susan on the water she says and the waves mass sepulcation denies the end over again because that's the way it happend and I want nothing less than the truth from you,  my dear boy.
That's how it happed, and if you don't believe me, don't read the book, but if you don't, you won't now.
Let's stop being negative. How was your day yesterday? I saw you. You were far away. I heard a cab. I am mostly awake during the Day!!! It's the END. its all right



A Stupid Story That Makes Sense


  Geral was born in hospital when his mother was 33 years and 7 months old. As she held him in her arms, his father, ...., walked out of the room, and she never saw him again. She was in such a stupor, that she forgot the 'd' that she meant to be at the end of her son's name. Originality became her new lifestyle after she decided to raise a boy named Geral. She quit her elementary teaching job and started her own business of growing potted plants and shaping them to look like people with green bushy heads.
                   Geral was home schooled, and when he was six years old, his mom had a girl, who she named Aria. Aria learned to make Geral her sole source of entertainment, companionship, and survival. The three traveled always and mainly lived in hotels with ground floor lounge bars. Aria's favorite food were pickles, and Geral's were pretzels.
                  When Geral was 12, a woman named Cady saw him and Aria walking down a big city sidewalk, looking for their lunch. She decided to take full responsibility for their lives, while their mother was pawning treasures that she picked out of dump sites along the highway. Cady asked the kids questions and led them to some government agencies, promising them safety and good things. At the end of the day, they were driven to a large new house on the edge of a town called Cottleville. They wore new clothes and laid in new beds. There was a closet full of new, unopened games and toys. There was a pantry and a refrigerator full of every kind of food except pretzels and pickles... The air in the house was colder than they were comfortable with, so they protected themselves with layers of clothes. Cady and her husband were settled in the first floor of the cavernous building, far away enough for Geral and Aria to ignore as they roamed the rooms of white. They had been content, but with two days, became infinitely bored and missed their mother.
                  She didn't think of her children until the sun set on the desert horizon, when she realized she hadn't eaten dinner with them and didn't even know where they were. She peeked around their temporary lodging and asked the clerk, but nothing... 'Those brats,' she thought, 'Is this their idea of a joke?' She watched talk shows on the hotel TV and smoked on the bed, until she fell asleep. Her empty head and disconnection from reality were a result of the culmination of everything she had been through, and she wasn't done yet. She woke at dawn. She sat up on the silky, warm bedding, glaring at the dim yellow glow behind the thick curtains. She thought of the kids and said, "God damn..." She walked the streets all day, visiting the places she imagined they would go, calling out their names. An older woman, witnessing her in need, offered her help. "No," their mom said. She was more embarrassed than concerned. She missed them, realized how much she loved them, then loved them more. Night fell and she found herself in front of a police station, staring at it intently, elusive plans slipping through her mind grasp. Slowly, she made her way to her quiet room and rested her head.

                     Aria and Geral rode quietly in the back of a roomy, deep blue SUV, playing with each other's hands, as Cady drove them to their new schools, talking cheerfully about their happy futures to no one. They glid past ranches and fields, bright gold under a powerful sun. Aria went into the administration office with Cady and Geral and waited while he was enrolled. The damage came when Geral was commanded to stay, and Cady led Aria away. "You're going to your own school with nice kids just like you!" Errrrrrah! Nnnnnnnhe!" Aria pleaded and pulled. Geral's face tensed, and he tried not to cry.
                  Geral calmed as he acquainted himself with the classroom. His eyes were caught by a girl sitting in the back row. She had long straight black hair. 'Lucy' was written on her name card in bold black marker. She seemed to have a supernatural quality, distinct from from her surroundings and classmates. Geral was the last student to enter, so he sat in the front row. Lucy paid fervent attention to the lesson, while Geral divided his between the teacher and everything else.
                They walked together after school to Lucy's bus stop. Neither could think of something good enough to say to the other. They were silent. Geral hung around and waited with her, but this made her uncomfortable, and he left after a few minutes of ground-staring. Her bus would take her home to Rose Hill, and he was to return to Mist Vale.
               Geral arrived at Aria's school, and she ran at full speed to embrace him, then empty her thoughts on him. She told him every detail of her day she could remember. She said it made her feel like the baking ham she had watched through a round-cornered rectangular window in the oven at their grandmother's house, one of the two times she had been there.Or maybe like one of those mythical pigs stuck through with a skewer, eating an apple, and rotating slowing behind a butchery window. Anyway, she was happy now to be hanging on Geral's arm again. Although, she uneasily sensed something had happened to him at school and he was distracted. They had missed their buses on purpose and trekked toward the place where they slept in the opposite of a hurry.
               Aria always kicked off her shoes before stepping on the white-tan carpet, not out of cleanliness or respect for her guardians' rule, but because she liked the feel of the bristly fibers between her toes. Geral usually stomped right on in remaining defiantly shod. Sometimes he kept his sneakers on until wanted to put his feet up on his bed. Wearing shoes in this house felt right to him, since bare feet would contradict the fact that he felt uncomfortable and not the least bit at home.



Weepers over Heavy Times


It's

Alarming that my options are always shrinking, even just in relation to the time that passes.
---
  Two-Bitch straddles a Dutch door an' hollers in at Siggy, "I'm a goin' git some fried crawfish, hon'! Yawn't any?!" She swings out on the door. "He-haw! Ride 'em --OH!" The hinges burst an' 2-Bitch falls flat on her bulbous front. "Aww, shit!"
It's all dusky out, air littered with lightnin' flies. Siggy trots out to the pitiful scene. "Damn, Toob... I love you like Hell, but... you suck, cuz you so stupid like that!"
"Shut up, I know!" Toob rolls over an' sighs.
 "Well le's get dem crawf--" Sig starts to say, before *Fart!* Toob lets a stink bomb loose. "A'ight, I'm gone," Sig hops off the porch an' shuffles away.
"He-haww-hee-haw!" Toob has zero shame and less dignity. Sig's at the gate by the travel trail, Two-Bitch shouts, "Oo, git me some hushy pups too!!"

                    The weepers loom over Siggy as she strolls to Mr. Luther's Chow House. The dark times weigh heavy an' sneaky demon-wisps swoop 'tween the brambles 'cross the path of raw earth. Indigo-violet tears plop outta Siggy's eye slits and tumbles along her rouged green face. On she marches full of regret and misplaced heroism.

                   Toob crawls into the life-room and squirms under the Pit. Right away she's sopping like a pig if they sweated. She grabs an armful of coals orange and hot as young stars. The rogue black whisper, that Toob hides under the back of of her wig, keeps harm at bay. She's not as stupid as she lets on. She never planned to go to Luth's for craws tonight. There's a partic'lar heavy Deem comin' down on Poss Bore Hill soon... an' if 2-Bitch does right -er, wrong, rather- then all them Life-deporters are in for a rude s'prise. "Hee-haww!" She swallows dem-orb after dem-orb till her rosy belly bulges with sinister gluttonous glee. "Shit's goin' down an' at las' lil Tooby's gone be up top!! Hawww."

                    Siggy gets real serious worry, when jus' as Luth's house pops in view, she ses the moon high an' glowin' pale blood-colored; stranger still it's shimmerin' and shakin' like a fire bug in a jam jar, who unexpectedly flies away.


               
DC Dog Fire Cloud


I and my fellow delegates lounge in the spacious gazebo sipping dark red wine. We look out across the pristine green lawn at the moderately populated boardwalk and the clear rippling river. An enormous red, white, and blue papery pinwheel blocks a third of the sky. The piano man plays reserved classical tunes that blend with Louis Armstrong's crooning coming from a nearby phonograph. We mumble locally-known names and chuckle weakly. The sun sets slowly...
A grinning dog on fire ambles and hops onto the lawn, screaming much like a man in unbelievable pain. The canine stalls and falls, yelling mercilessly, consumed by monstrous flames that set the grass alight. Fire tears towards the river and gazebo, the dusk splashed by orange. We continue to imbibe and quietly converse.
I rise upwards, lifted by my shoulders. I bid my compatriots adieu. They are disinterested. I drift through the ceiling and roof in a ghostly fashion. 83 meters above and to the east is a miserly cloud with white arms reaching for me, pulling me along for a ride. Mr. Cloud moans and sobs with disdain and contempt. We float away, I a few meters under his curled fingers, blissfully aware of my inexorable exit from this arcane temporary stage.



Lulululeileila


Lulululeileila got fired when xhe fired up the grill.
Grand entrance.
Glad to make your acquaintance.
My name is Lulululeileila Xo!, pronounced 'loo loo loo lay lay luh zo!'. The exclamation mark must be included. 'Xhe' can be pronounced, 'zay' or 'je' like in French. It means that I am not identified as either male or female, and my sex or gender, or lack of thereof, or any physical or grammatical identifier, is not yours to know or label, and vice versa.
I know I am just a character created by Gregory Wredberg, who was lying on a bed propped up by two pillows tapping (approximately) this on a smartphone at 12:02 a.m., but then "Unfortunately S Memo [...] stopped running," and now he is typing most of this from memory in the apartment complex business center at 12:23 a.m. *clicks Save*
I suppose I am more than just these words on a screen. I would give you some of my back story, but I ain't got one. Part of my name might remind you of Layla from that The Kinks song. My 3rd person pronoun being 'xhe', I find that comparison apt.
I suppose I can read Gregory's thoughts, and he can read (or write) mine. I suppose my thoughts might be included in his. At least we share some of our thoughts, and now so do you. These might not just be thoughts that he/we give to you; these thoughts are totally your own, because you can read and understand our English, can'tchoo?  ":}{:"Can'tchoo if I can, can'tchoo if I cain't."{"?:}:{

Is all uv it over --Every real person-- ?

... Anyway, I've got 16 siblings you don't know. My 2nd house was light blue. My first house is orange tan. I lived an cocker beagle. At 14 years old, I was the head of my body, and I completed and storied in 1500 words. On my way, at perilous paces, toward 15,000 words, in time. I never had a life. It was not too hard, all the reeling and writhing for naught, to accentuate and articulate and formulate and actualize my verbiage conundrum.

The End

.... Or Did They!!!!!... !. The End. Period. Period "   "   {{{description of something that is not there}}}

Bye

Talk to you later,
Love, Greg





Quirky and the Elephant’s Brigade!


 In the time when dinosaurs roamed the land, there lived a bright, shiny puppy named Gregory. He frolicked all day and night without a care in the world. Some days when a mean dinosaur approached him looking for trouble, Gregory growled his mightiest growl, and the dinosaur would quickly gallop away. Gregory slept in a small cave near a big rock, called Enchanted Rock. When Gregory awoke with the sunrise each morning, he would race out of his cave and climb Enchanted Rock all the way to the top. He stood there proudly for a moment and stared at the Valley of Boulders, which was the area from the Mystic Mountains to the Sparkling Lake. When he came down from the rock he pounced in the bushes looking for a big, tasty bug for breakfast. When the sun was high in the sky, Gregory lay on the warm ground of the valley and slept. He jumped into the Sparkling Lake often and swam in circles near the shore. It was a very large lake and Gregory had never seen the other side. Gregory returned to the top of Enchanted Rock and watched the sun set behind the Mystic Mountains. Gregory dreamed of traveling over the mountains and finding the place where the sun went at night. Gregory didn’t know why the sun had to leave every night, but he forgave it since it returned every morning.

 One cold morning Gregory woke before dawn. It was just light enough to see in his cave. He stared across the land at the grey sky. He kicked around a rock with his front paw. It was quiet. He could hear the wind whistle through his cave. He lay still and slept more. He woke up again to his growling stomach. He walked out and saw two big tyrannosauri walking towards each other. When they met, they began to fight. It was very violent, and the dinosaurs looked angry, like they wanted to kill each other. Their fight came towards Gregory, and he leaped into a bush for protection. One of the dinosaurs smashed the other into Gregory’s cave and destroyed it. Gregory jumped from his bush and barked at the remaining dinosaur. It stood still for a moment then headed to the Valley of Boulders. Gregory followed still barking angrily. Once in the valley, the dinosaur ran faster than Gregory could follow, and Gregory quit barking. All over the valley the dinosaurs were fighting each other. Gregory was scared. He ran into the Sparkling Lake and swam for miles. When he could not swim anymore, he drowned to death.

 A second later, a meteor struck the earth, and all of the dinosaurs died. Ten million years later, I sat at a table with John, Jacob, Mary, and Susan. They spit in my face, and I peed my pants and cried. I had my backpack on as I walked on the brown, crunchy leaves going home. My name was Jeremy. I was 72 years old. That was sixty years after now anyway. I was also twelve. Now was 9:37 p.m. February 17, 2004. I wished I hadn’t said that. I wished I had said something. I swept the road at night. Then after making me wait a while, Jerry moved and said something. I thought he was incompetent, but I admired him. We walked along the empty street at night, in that nice, quiet, small town in Northern Virginia. There were lights on each side of Hill street, and peaceful, welcoming houses. Jerry mentioned something about Gregory and a puppy, but I wasn’t listening. I was thinking about a girl... I didn’t know what to say to make it special. I wondered what I should have said. I wanted to tell her about Harble and his office building at sunrise. Why would she care though? Only I think it means something. It doesn’t mean anything. I wanted to meet Harble. I wanted to be Harble.





Kintow


Knock. Knock. Knock.

Bbbrrrrrmmmmm. Thunder rolls.
T-t-t, chs-chs-chshh. Rain splatters the window.
Bzz, crshkcrshkrsh. TV static buzzes and crackles.
Clop. Clop. Clop. Mom walks to answer the door.
Heeheeheehahaha!
Grandpa laughs childishly at his TV tray of peas and carrot and mashed potatoes with butter.
He plays peeka-boo with the food. He sticks out his tongue and blows - pllllbbbbtttttthh. Saliva sprays and drips.
The supine child's gaze rolls along the white slick ceiling. From there on the floor, it's two or three of her lengths away. Every one of her muscles, except her eyes, relinquishes itself to gravity, sagging into a scruffy carpet the color and dankness of snow on a busy city street, distant as that is. Then her arms and legs sway to their own wild will. She swims by not moving or seeing or hearing...
Thunder crashes. Rain plummets and splashes the ghostly wood and pale vinyl on the idyllic isolated farmhouse.
Mom lets Dad in.
He drips and, "Jesus!"
She's, "Sorry."
He's, "For what?!" Because nature is loud.
"Just," she takes his jacket.
"Ehh..!"
The child stares at them through the foyer doorway. "Hi, Molly! How ya doin'?" He waits two seconds, motionless and staring her way. No response. "Yeah, well, me too."
Heeheeheehahaha! Plbbbttt. Heehah!
Bzztz, Crshkrkrkshh...
Drip, drop, plink, plonk, pshh, pshh, splat, tip, tap.
Kssshhhhh-brrrrrrmmmmm!
Ding dong! The doorbell rings.
Thirty seconds have passed since Dad knocked.
Dad opens the door for a smiling man under a brown cap holding a half-man-sized brown cardboard cube with black cow spots printed on it. He sets it down on the wood floor and leaves.
The child begins to swell with interest in the man and his box, but she hides it and turns the other way to super-old, insane Grandpa. Heehah! Peekaboo! Her eyes glaze, and a chill creeps down her spine. Her arms hold her tightly.  Her eyes close. She breathes out deeply and releases her tensions further into the musty carpet.
The child faintly senses everything around her at once. "Half a doze-... Two today?!... Why doesn't it ever-... Then three or four... just... again..." from the foyer.
The food stinks. The carpet emits wide-ranging odors from weeks of weather and walking. The rain is fresh and clean. Grandpa rots. Mom and Dad steam and boil over, grimy, sweet, and sweaty.
There are cowboys chasing Indians and Indians chasing cowboys on the fuzzy, ancient TV. Who knows of they're real or not?
Bing bong! The door-dell brings.
Another thirty seconds have passed. The girl rolls onto her stomach. Her short white T-shirt twists and cinches, embracing her lovingly.
The man brings a cow-boxed shape in-too the in-house. It is placed by placing, now a stack of two identical cubes.
He leaves. The child stretches. Her purple shorts bunch up tight, like she likes it.
She turns and rolls and gazes and stares.
Boom! Crash!
Splish! Splatter!
Bzz, crshshkr.
Peeka-boo! Teeheehahahee!
"Five-fifty!?... NO, you DON'T!... Eleven, ten K... I don't eve-..."
She focuses in on one melody of dripping rain. Plip... ploop..plop, plip. Everything else drains away. Beside the bottom of the front porch steps in the grass is a little puddle gathering rain. Two pecan-sized black beetles jump in and paddle around helplessly, but they seem to like it...
Ting Tong! Doordle-ings.
Thirty more seconds've passed.
Brown box-man sets down another moo-cube on the floor. He goes again.
The afternoon fades as the storm blackens. Life slows to a haze. The girl swims very deep and far. She stretches into another world. From a circle of carpet around her a small sunny-green dome softly gathers upward and cocoons her. Blue spots and white clouds shine at her, tiny and close. She is warm and giddy. She giggles and grins. Her black locks sparkle and splash on her head. Her white skin beams red. Baby-sized black-spotted white cartoon cows prance around her. Mouses click, click.
She slips and slides through windows and Bliss.
Why not?
She hides her fortune. Grandpa stares at her all serious. ... Plllbbtttthh, drip. Heeeeeeehaahahh!
The girl's insides are exploding. She writhes and quietly squeal-hums. Dad walks in, eyes cast down, "What the hell..?"
"Just ignore her," Mom breezes past to the light-drenched kitchen to do work.
"Whatever floats your boat." He strolls behind Mom, passing Grandpa. Plllllbbbbbtttttttt- "Shaddup! ... Jesus... Damn retard--"
"Hey!!" Mom scowls and cleans.
The girl shrinks into her shivery skin and lies straight up. Her eyes feel open and broken. She stares at the ceiling, ignoring the rest. She reluctantly accepts her awareness of her real life.



always ben and will

I know how to always be a quark's flavor.
I am the best at being eternity's forever!
My name is Ben.
I work in a car.
ym dneirf si lliW.
We play with thin wheat bread and white cow cheese.
I love my self.
I am happy almost every morning; my two shiny fully functional human hands appear before my two fully functional beautiful eyes.
Before yesterday and after tomorrow.
Three Days Will never die for you.
It happened again.
I Will pop the universal red balloon skin.
Inside the balloon is not the balloon.
Candy fun party colors apricot pit penis saliva.
Goose pimples Ben's arm, every day to work and forward. My car is a Pathfinder. It's eleven hundred years old. My Star burnt out. Ben change it out with two fingers. Two friends have lists to read out loud to each other. Light is fake.
Lake fight. Flight lake. Light flake.
Charles choose me. Will fell; Ben did not slow or look back. I give you my secret.
A flow below, we uncovered.
Charles Beckett chuckle the floor and a half years, but she hides the same man, and I will be a great place for a smiling face. I have been getting Monday night and day out of town for work and play with the help of my favorite part of the most passionate you.
Will live for ever.
Urgent Heidi's itch neurobiology.



J J J G C C C

Julia Grobe drove from home to Mr. Crumbdick's history class. Jane gave her a Danish with strawberry. Carrol had a sore on the back of his left hand, Julia saw he looked sad and distracted. Crumbdick slapped the green chalkboard with a lecture stick. Julia felt her oily hair that was not black and not as short as the hair on any of the boys' heads.

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 She felt fatigue drag thru her body. She imagined herself sinking into watery shadows off a cliff in the ocean. She found herself staring at a poster of lesser known U. S. presidents. She mouthed 'what's the point.' She imagined her lunch period with
anticipation. Sandwiches and sodas and talk about school games and music. She remembered her dad is coming to visit this week. She thought of zoos and chameleons. Carter tapped her chair with his foot. She looked over her left shoulder to see him making a V with his fore and middle fingers and flicking his tongue in the opening. He turned and snickered with his pal Clement. Julia's face tensed into a stony jagged frown quickly turned forward. She flipped her middle finger at him. To Julia's left, Josie rolled her eyes. Josie imagined throwing her desk at the window, screaming, and running outside. It was a pretty perfect day.

Mr. Crumbdick said, Excuse me, shuffled to the door, fumbled with the knob, and left. Two unnamed kids chuckled out loud, and 12 curled their lips and suppressed it. Jaqueline stood up and drew on the chalkboard a heart shape pierced by an arrow. Clement stared at her blue-jeaned ass, and his blue-jeaned penis became engored with blood. Jane looked around the room and thought of the names for the colors and shapes she saw...

Greg sat in the center of the room and wrote on a blue lined white sheet, 'I killed my family and raped a school.' Josie felt so horny and hungry and trapped that she almost cried. She laid her right arm on her desk and rested her forehead on her sweatered forearm. She sighed, trying to make no sound. She clenched her jaw and fists and squished her eyes closed as hard as she could. She thought of her little sister at home taking a bath and she felt the urge to laugh...

A feeling rose from deep within Josie. She focused on it. She began to relax.

Carrol strode determinedly toward the exit. The feeling climbed through Josie's throat. Instinctively she charged to the door, hand clasped over mouth, bashed Carrol away, and dripped bright reddish bluish vomit on his jeans. She hurtled down the hall to the Girls' Room. Groans and exclamations of disgust rang out from the class. Carrol was stunned, back against the wall for a few long seconds. He snuck out to the Boys' Room. Josie spat a mouthful of candy bile into the sink, went into a stall, sat on the floor, and sobbed.

Joesie, sits by the front doors. Hands folded, head down. She waits for her dad. She is going home.





 The Locksmith

1

 Newspaper in his lap, ice cream by his side, lying in his reclined chair, his eyes half open, he gazed wearily at the grey snowy tropical island on the decrepit television. “$2999” appeared on the screen. Five thousand thoughts went through Harold Richmond’s mind after seeing this and before nodding back off to sleep.
The sun was still out the next day. Harold longed for another cool, cloudy day. He walked to work down a cracked sidewalk. When they saw Harold Richmond, the people across the street were glad they were. It would be all right. He would be indoors soon. His miserable existence was only a footnote in the happy, exciting lives of everyone else. He was generally a kind and reasonable person. Maybe if someone saw this in him, he would not have been in the state he was. At the top of the steps to the shop, Harold’s boss, Carl Horowitz, waited impatiently.
The day was put away as every other, and Harold walked back to his apartment to go through his nightly routine. In a replica of last night, Harold made a decision for his life. Inspired by the same $2999 tropical island vacation commercial, he vowed he would get away from this sadness. No money in his possession made dreams more difficult to make real. He had a job in a trusted profession. He would suddenly become a lot less trustworthy.

2

The next well to do couple to come crawling to the mercy of Mr. Horowitz and his services were named Grollinger. Harold argued with himself every second of the day and night, which was a little more than usual for him. He finally decided that trying to do something, even if he failed (even if it was illegal), would be much better than doing nothing at all. He made one too many keys for the old, stranded pair and slipped it into his front pocket. That night he sat alert and upright in his living room staring at the key as he turned and twisted it in front of his face in the dimness of the only light coming from his kitchen ceiling. He had overheard a conversation between the shriveled, rich kooks. They were to be out this night until midnight. His stopwatch showed 10:39. He had better get going.
He drove mischievously to the shining mansion in the moonlight. He’d brought two black bags with him. Scared to death he slipped the golden key into the great brass lock. Quickly and surprisingly skillful (to himself), he packed the bags with valuables and left before 11:09. Hitting every other pawnshop he saw he cashed in and earned more than he had expected. Filled with a long-forgotten excitement, Harold tensely but under control made his way to the airport where his vision of apparent happiness awaited his arrival. He sweated nervously all of the way on the jet liner. Stinking like a pig, he departed the craft, taxied to a hotel, showered and lay on one of the double beds. Satisfied by the situation and relieved of his assumed safety, he gazed wearily with half open eyes at a television that did not work so well. It had begun to rain. The grey snowy static and its noise, suddenly realized by Harold, filled him with a deep, dark depression. He was where he had been when he decided to do something about it. He was tired and closed his eyes completely to try to bring on the sleep that would be an only remedy to drown out his melancholy.


3

 Just on the brink of a beginning dream, a hard tapping on his hotel door, numbered 113, viciously awoke Harold. In the midst of all his panic, bewilderment and fear of the hand that had made the noise Harold sprang off the bed knocking off a lamp beside it with his knee. Another knock sent the frantic Harold racing for the window in the bathroom in the back. He forced it open with some trouble and began the impossible task of squeezing though it. As he hoisted himself up on the toilet the door was violently flung agape. With one arm and a head jutting out into the cool ocean breeze, Harold was shot twice from behind, and falling back into the bathroom and slamming the back of his head into the hard-tiled wall, he was knocked unconscious.
When he awoke the next day in a hospital bed, he still felt the fear and panic of the night before but also a disabling pain. People in white came and went, caring for him as they saw fit. He was gradually improving. Soon he was out of bed and in a wheelchair. It was many days later that he discovered he was still at the beach and that he had not seen the sun once save for the first night in the hotel when he had his head out the bathroom window and he caught a glimpse of it rising in the rain. One day on a request he was wheeled outside on a concrete platform. He was pointed at the sea. He felt a cool wind on his face. The water was dark and turbulent, and the sky was grey and serene. As he gazed up at it, he smiled for the first time in a very long while.




“C” Assignment Story

He used map colours to draw the forest. He stole through this forest, and when he came out to a field, he was wet, and he carried a flat-screen plasma Dell computer monitor. He smiled at the sun that was setting. A flying animal was flyin' at him from the northwest at a declining angle of 18 degrees. When it got near him, it turned and flew into the sun and burned black. When the bird went by, Timothe dropped his monitor, and it disappeared as it touched the grass that was leaning 78 degrees from the ground. Timothe exited the drawing, and when he sat back in a chair, he felt like a giant one thousand times bigger than a normal sized human. His clothes were black, and he thought of the flying animal all black after it flew into a sun. He almost cried, but he was too scared. A teacher was talking about a bathroom, and two children laughed. Timothe lowered his head onto the wood flat desk in front of him. A white cloud rose beneath him. Falling through it, he saw and felt a soft, green tree as his hair grew shorter and lighter. He felt like a good boy, since a mushroom told him so. Soon though it was dirty and dark, and he was scared again but in a different way. He almost cried, because he did not want to die. He thought of his grandmother, who he thought was dead. He saw her in the darkness. She was gone after a moment, and Timothe saw dark yellow and orange spots in the darkness. He thought of Julia, who was a girl, who said, "I'm sorry," when she learned that his grandmother was dead. It made him sad to think of his grandmother all dead and in darkness for eternity, so he crawled out of a sideways hole and was not dirty. He thought of what grass feels like but could not remember exactly. Today he wished was over. Completing a round trip to collect water for people. If he helped like that, like he had seen in movies, he might not feel so useless. He ate and sat and breathed and got uncomfortable and strained and made pain for his muscle and bone. Carla worked at a bookstore and did not bother herself or waste her time with impossible dreams or fantastic wishes. She saw Timothe from behind the checkout counter at a bookstore, while she was working. Jane was his mother, and he followed her into the store and walked slowly around looking. Carla did not like his face, but she thought he was interesting, because he was weird. It was sunny outside, and some of the sunlight shined into the store. It was Friday, January 11, 18163. Timothe kicked the bottom of the door frame as he was leaving the bookstore after his mother. Carla glanced at him, and she thought he tripped. She almost laughed, and then her left eye felt dry. She rubbed it with her left hand. She had purple nail polish on. She looked down 41 degrees with her right eye at a book titled, "The Long Loss When We Watch the Summer Pass on Our Decks, Porches, or Patios." Ten feet outside the store, Timothe rubbed his right eye with his right hand as he noticed a long green leaf of a plant with his left eye. Julia was walking on the corner by a different kind of plant 12.352 meters to the northwest of Tim. She lifted her left foot with a Nike shoe on it. The reason she was there was because she was looking for her mother, who



Little Green Coke People

[ Read this in the voice of a sick coughing person ]

Oh, I forgot the wax over the... sun can, and I pulled out the crane from the sidewalk, and she said...

Uh, I'm not even here right now, so I built a straight bridge perpendicular to the ground right in the middle of the road.

It was 30 feet wide and 8,000 feet tall, and if you got in a car, you could use your legs and walk straight up the bridge, and when you got to the end, you would just dip down into some crystal clear water, crystal cool water, and the water would eat your legs off, and your little bony nubs right under your butt would walk along the little bright coral Legend of Zelda, Sonic the Hedgehog beach front property, and two fish made of octopuses would attach to your bony thigh nubs, and you would be able to walk 3000% faster, and you would walk all the way to the store, where you could chop your left hand off and use it to buy a 67 ounce bottle of Green Coca-Cola, and you would unscrew the top, and the carbonation would melt your eyeballs, and so they would droop down off your face and also kinda freeze, or then they would become semi-solid and float and flap in front of your face like dog tongues, and then you could see 1700% better, and then you would pour the Green Coke.

You would stick the top of it in your bellybutton and drink it all through your bellybutton, and then your bellybutton would eat the bottle made of plastic, and then a little hole in your left side would open up, and a little factory would pop out and process the plastic and turn it into little people, who represent Lemmings from the video game of the same name, and they would be able to walk on the air and go anywhere, and they can create any type of matter, that does or doesn't currently exist, and they can replicate themselves, and so they can go anywhere, and they can get as small as they want to, but they can't get bigger than 6 inches tall and 2 inches wide, so they can go anywhere, though, and it only takes them 1 over X amount of time to get there, and they can turn their bodies - they start with little green bodies made of Coke plastic, but then they can turn themselves - they can produce anything real or imagined out of their bodies, and they do this about half their time, 50% of their time, exactly 50% of their time, and the other 50%, they're either resting or having social interactions for pleasure, and so that's basically what reality is for us, so, and these little green Coke people never die, and they never change, unless they want to, and they all waited in line to meet GOD HIMSELF, and they all grabbed onto the hairs of HIS long white beard, and they shake GOD'S hand 50 at a time.

50 of them shake GOD'S hand at one time, and GOD invites them back for some pasta salad and tuna fish, and then my legs grew back, but it felt like the blood inside was made of acid and lead, and so I just tacked them up to the sky, and all my insides spilled out of my mouth *burp*, and I just grabbed onto two birds, who were passing by on their way to The Watering Hole, which is the name of a night club on top of OPRAH'S MANSION, and I just grabbed onto their tail feathers, and I was ripped away and just floating, and each bird weighed about 1.1 pound, I mean, each bird weighed .1 pound, and I weighed .11 pounds, and my clothes all turned brown, very pale brown and became tatters, and my penis and I became about 3 feet long, and my penis was also 3 feet long, and I began to cry purple bubbly tears, and it landed on top of all the houses and everyone's yards and all the buildings everywhere and on all the land and the roads, and the bubbles popped up into everyone's faces, and there were these clear gases that were released all over the place, and it made everyone feel like they had just kissed someone, and they smiled and kinda laughed, because they knew they hadn't, but

it still felt like they had just woken up, and they all gave each other high fives and tapped each other on the butt and then just all held hands and walked in unison to the next thing they had to do today.

Goodbye

             " Sam and Thom "

    This is a fiction. Any similarities to real life is unbelievable and purely coincidence.

Arthur Milner drove a rusty pickup thru fog on a quiet Route 14 at 9 a.m. sleepily. Spring grass grew past knee height. Sam stood at her simple strawberries selling stand.

She waited for the buyers of her strawberries. She was waiting and looking out for cars coming. Arthur's eyelids dipped and bobbed. The tires hit the rumble strip; he jumped.

Sam watched and waited and grabbed the wooden counter and the handles of the baskets for her large red ripe strawberries, grown on a farm a few miles from here. Fog was beginning to lift, this would be a clear bright day. 16

_

Mary Thompson drove her beige F150 past The Plains Motel on state highway 9. Her family had owned it for 76 years. She was pretty blond and 32 years old, born January 2nd in the 2nd half of the 20th century. She was a character in this story, written by me, now.   A day time,

The End

- - - - - - - 

 Mary Thompson was born on a plain, between motels. At 16 she began to work at The Plains Motel, owned by her parents, Sid and Rita. They opened the Midwest of the USA. It's the mid-to-late twentieth century A. D.

She was tall and blonde and didn't care about looks much. She liked to eat at diners most of the time. She liked to sit and look.

At twenty years old she hit a black wall, the cosmos or abyss in her face, I guess. 

Most people had a thing for her, different things. She didn't like to think about other people much, because it made her sad. She knew ‐‐

"Hey, how's the hockey going?"

Excuse Me?

"You don't follow?"

You or hockey?

"Either?"

She catches herself rolling her eyes and reverses, sets her book on the counter, sits up straighter, turns toward him a bit and almost smiles.

I'm Mary. What's yours? She holds back a cringe. She's breathless.

He smiles too much. "I'm Tom. It's really good to meet ya. 

So you don't follow hockey. But I hope you'll follow me."

Nice. Well, I'm not staying long. I gotta go home.

"Where do you live?"

Nowhere - I mean, I can't tell you. Why do you want to know?... She asks as if it were not a question and did not want any answer.

He looks a bit scared. "No- no reason, really. I was wondering..."

A beat

So, I'm gonna go.

"Wai- wait. Where you from?"

She looks down, around, out the windows, 

        Here.

Flatly.

They part.

They look serious.

-

Sharry Thomas Mulligan was born on the 28th of October, 195‐ 196- 197- 1980.

Let's just say between 1955 and 1980.

His name is based on Saoirse. He goes by Tom.  

His parents' names are Adrienne and Robert. They are housewives and homeworkers.

Mary and Tom meet 3 times in the next 4 weeks, at a bowling alley and a honkey tonk.

I cannot drink any more almost tepid pints of beer. What is a nightmare. 

"You do -okay," asks Tom of her.

She slinks forward then back. I wanna go to bed.

" I can arrange that..." He tries to hold his grin, embarrassed for everything involved. 

She furrows and feels impending vomit.

He sees her pain, distantly but distinctly. They've never been closer. After hours of idle chats, the moons and stars line up, and strike.

She tilts and timbers into his arms.

"Whoa, Nelly.

Hey, Mar, I gotcha."

She holds in her tears and holds him back.

He helps her carry herself to the blue sedan.

Tom calls John who arrives in under ten minutes to drive each home.

This is the tide to swim with.

They sleep their 8s. A bright morning meets them.

The end

Of chapter 1.

See ya soon.

2

This is the time. 

Sopping up tipped candle wax, Mary sighs with the force of a hospitalful of babies, survived or otherwise. 

The sham wow is forever ruined and will end up in the backyard by the landing, tucked to the mobile home and unmowed grasses.

She's been sleeping at Tom's for 5 days. She got a part-time at Disc World, a rental shop next to downtown Yog. This hometown's population peaked about four thousand, at least a decade ago, and now it's 2.

She was born in the hospital, 2 miles east. 4 more stoplights were added in these 20 and three fourths years.

Tom has worked for Guses Machines for 3 years, ever since he graduated Ag school. He knows Cats and most other rigs well enough to make every employee comforted, until the final whistle blows.

Mary sheds a pitiful tear and recalls a highschool boyfriend, not so nice, obsessed with weird but relaxing video games. He is the richest person She's ever known. He lived 20 miles north close to Dan, a city by the state line.

3

Tom gets home about 6. 

Mary must still tend to Mother, Father and Motel most evenings. 

She feeds Tom Mac and Cheese, his favorite. They talk work and dreams. They plan for imaginary futures. 

When Tom is too tired to talk or care, Mary sleeps at her parents'.

He turns 25 on May 25th.

She will buy an expensive cake for him.

She keeps his trailer cleaner than he thought possible. 

In this instance, Mary stares at his face, as they try to enjoy Caesar chicken salad.

She fills with unbound yet undetected Grace.

She pushes her flaxes behind her left ear.

Tom sighs moaning for a good 12 seconds. 

He shuts his eyes, thinking of his highschool love.

He is filled with longing that would tear his heart in two, if Mary were not staring through his very Soul.

What are you thinkin bout?

"Oh, Jez..." he hesitantly admits.

His honesty gives her joy beyond words.

3

Tom is waking, walking confession.

Mary feels her inner claws digesting the cruel wilds that darken and depress her existence. 

He has it out with Gom, the foreman on site, 2nd-in-command man to Gus. 

"If you want someone to figure out what you want me to do, I'm just - trying to get it done."

Gom sneers to the side farther from Tom and comes out with, "I give ya 2 days. Hollar and French will be all you need." He waits. Tom just glances at the dirt then expects Gom to finish.

     "You need to buckle down. Now."

Tom almost loses it. "Got it." He breaks away, hops back in the cab and operates dutifully till 5.

Gom strides to the office to update Gus, summarily. He is half Gus's age and weight.

Mary ties garland and ribbon across the cozy living room and the outside entrance.

She is so proud. Holidays make her happy.

Her mother always spread her dread to Mary, and everyone else to a milder degree.

Mary craves control. She wears the same plain beige uniform every day, since she discovered it at the small Bealls just after she got her 18th birthday money. 

4

Her boss at DW, Edwin, seems older than he is, somewhere firmly middle-aged.

They get on well, both efficient and shy.

5

Tom squeezes her thigh as they watch Wherl of Fortune. 

She reaches her head as far back on the couch cushion as she can, eyes closed, beckoning Tom to her neck.

6

They tacitly consider children together. 

One night, she loses herself and says, make me a baby, easily confused in love and affections. 

7

They drive to a riverside park on a Saturday morning. They eat ham and cheese on honey wheat. The day so beautiful she lets herself cry in happiness when Tom goes to the toilet. 

8

They have a surprisingly pleasant Easter meal with her parents. 

9

In 25 years, they forgot the sorrow of the Climate. They played a quaint serious yet fun video game together for hours and days and days. They slept late, then they napped like old dogs.

10

Mary stood in the front yard a long time to stare at a waxing gibbous that she called as good as full.

Tom watched the 2nd half of the hockey championship. 

They are buried together where 10 generations share this local fate. 

Some Hemingway Free Write

Hi, name me what you love most. I need your fun time.

The tired brake light burns the higher tree root.

I shed three pages of my sister's manual to get her, the root and the light to settle against the back seat.

The End

Bye,

Bye


Hello, Again.

My name is The Cars. Or Theseus. The Cyrus. The Sirius. Osiris. I'm serious.

My sister is 4 years older than I. We are only children.

She was good at school. She graduated from Michigan State at the top of her class with majors in Engineering and Business. She went right to work for General Motors and became a Vice President in Manufacturing 13 days before her 25th birthday.

I do not know her anymore...

I suppose I only knew her for a few moments, in the two years before my Puberty, summers and winters.

Hot steamy river side public parks, cold old houses surrounded by snow.

After ten years of speaking to each other for a few hours total, our mother died.

We drove together for almost 7 hours, to spend a little time with Dad.

It was almost perfect material for a cliche heart-felt Indie movie.

She became a small town mechanic a few weeks after her 30th birthday.

I thought about her

almost every day.

Some Poem, Middle: Wednesday 8-22-2018

Human Sochi, well played off the Central Soul,

How can Sluice Pirates tousle the Oriole.

But Alast, You is demons Just Right djerk Orstch.

Nigh I broke Helio too damn Much, and You just -


Well, what for now become of thee, I will know to

Do Not go afar, we wallet bacon mush moof shallot goo.

-

Singapore Hong Kong

-

Egalitarian Weimaraner

-

hi.

it is just after 18:30 , or 6:30 pm.

now it is 18:42.



now it is 18;50.

i drank alcohol and i feel tired. i am lying on my bed, telling the truth.

my mom is watching sharp objects.

i am hearing oom sha la la by haley heynderickx. i like her name and her.

i read a few pages of i'm your man: the life of leonard cohen today.

my mom and i went to best buy and staples and hobby lobby today.

i applied to 2 jobs today, best western and texas parks and wildlife.


other stuff to waste time.

survive until death, until something very bad happens.

do something, someone cares.


bye for now

It All Happens

Hi, my name is Hezikiah,

if you watch it all happen,

it will go so slow

you can never tell yourself

if you are watching ... or

what is happening.

Stead Fast

Sensual Pigeons

So grey and lady-like

Horses come to their senses

Why do we still say , Live Your Life . . .

It gets easier after the end.

Stay close by . . .

Always . . .

Only way is to

Do what we say

. . . Stand For . . . Friendship . . .

McCarthy T

renching

Peace and Health and Death

Talk to you

Later

by little

Close

the browser

like right now-ser.

{-: . . .

Reply to Juan, Internet Is Great

"
Was there something awesome you found that inspired you to post this? I'd wanto know about it [: Internet is almost synonymous with the World, for lots of us probably. It's like 'This is water' . 'Eighth Grade' is a nice movie. Sorry, i ramble {;
"

Do you find some thing awe some , that inspires You to post Your Awe ?

I want to what the know is Your Inspiration . . . .

1. I want to fly to a big house
2. for ten minutes, like Peter Pan,
3. somewhere pretty
4. and close to pretty people
5. doing nice things
6. where we can get anything
7. we want or need
8. within 20 minutes,
9. like utopia Los Angeles.

1. I want to hang upside down
2. for 5 or 10 minutes,
3. and I want to sleep
4. for one third of my life.
5. I want to be eternal,
6. like afterlife and Heaven
7. with Jesus and such,
8. like Defending Your Life,
9. vacationing, comfort,
10. expectation, rest, hope.

1. I want to hold a person,
2. lay down, smile, breathe.
3. I want to hug another person,
4. like my best friends,
5. like the perfectly famous
6. people, liquids, bodies,
7. and I want to smell
8. and sleep again. Is it all
9. too heavy? I want to be a
10. wonderful person, and I want
11. all people to feel good forever.

--

I've listened to Dear Hank and John for a few hours today. The internet stopped working ten or 15 minutes ago, the screen says "LOADING"

I ate a bunch of stuff today. Not as much as I have on some days.
--
It's later now, about 5 PM. I've listened to about an hour of Harmontown. I drank about a glass of red wine, and I am drinking another half a glass. I guess my mom will be here in about an hour.

I am drinking more wine.

I want to read I'm Your Man: The Life of Leonard Cohen now.

bye.

This is tomorrow.

I maybe read 1 or 2 sentences after I typed that about the Cohen book.

I been listening to more Dear Hank and John. It stops to load every few seconds.

I just flossed and brushed my teeth.

It is 3:25 PM.

My mom is at her retirement party at the library. She'll be done working in a couple hours. Maybe forever.

Anagrams of Gregory Douglas Wredberg

L

GOD

GREW

RARE

RUGGED

BOYS

-

GOD

BREW

REAL

RED

SOGGY

RUG

I Will Be a Light

I miss walking all around South Austin
and sleeping alone all of every night.

I wish I were a Dynamo, sexy and clean for eternity,
saying to God, Please, do not worry about me:

I will be all light
I will be alight
I will be a light.

Do you wonder what becomes of all the things we wear?
I can sweat like a monster. I can dry off on the air.

I run my body into the ocean.
Does it All feel like it's still there?

Me and My Mom's Retirement, Days 1 and 2

2.

Safety Protrusion

Put your neck down

Tie your body to the ground

1.

Wal-Mart

Smooth Mouse

The news is coming out strong

Sports Team

Soul Exchange

The don't of they every

Is the Prove of them being.

Justice brushed my hear purest

Intellect earned who skill mitts.

Hio grow tea Easter of then skin

Whyn't port sun bring a knot

Yes por favor him which to fly

I said from that certain but there

And we did So To now do . . . .

Now, it is 12:46 PM, and I'm at my house.

I was lying in bed last night, thinking of my family coming for a birthday party this weekend, then I remembered that I have been spending the last 8 months at my mom's house, and I should have gotten a job by about 6 months ago. People wonder, what have I been doing?

I don't know. I've been listening to Dear Hank and John, about 40 episodes the past week. I like it.

I want to shower in the next 2 hours. I guess it's been about 5 days.

My mom will get home in about 2 hours. We will go to HEB and recycle stuff at the elementary school.

I wonder what shirt I will wear.

I excuse myself.

You got a story.

I just texted Aaron, asking what they are doing on or for Andee's birthday. He replied, "Nothing. [:" - I thought about it for a bit, then texted, "All right (:"

ok bye

I Distill. Leonard Cohen. Biography. Morning Walk Song

Nineteen

19 People

The Name of the Forest

The Name of the Forest

Sun.

Sun.

Sun.

ss.. nn..

I

need

to

drive

to

the

house

of

my

friends,

be-

cause

they

invited

me

to

a

birth-

day

par-

ty.

I

plan

to

stay

for

two

or

three

or

four

hou-

rs.

What

are

your

plans

be-

fore

and

af-

ter

the

death

of

each

per-

son

and

why?

Functional Human Brain

After We Die
Before We Grow
Functional Human Brains

Before We Die
After We Grow
Functional Human Brains

The Crest

of a Forest

with a View

of the Air

                                   Natturlee was born at 2:30 P.M. on West 44th Street at 2:30 P.M. The next dawn, the shiny silver 30-story building warm 33 degrees. Mother, 29 years old, and Father, 39 years old, take the walk down into the food and drinks place, where the walls diet, die and relax, 52 weeks a year, for 50 years and 4 weeks ago. That's why Mister Weshpeer modeled some Takings, Molds and Modes, Fluorescent Lights, and Galvanized Magnet buses and ferries, so that is what is was.

To BE Continued

Your Best Attention

Don't forget.

Don't forget

and you won't be forgotten.

I won't let

you fall below the Horizon.

If your God

is the only path

to a brighter tomorrow,

say that you will

be the same,

take all that you got,

get it all in Good order

and give it your best attention.

Dreams

In a fantasy land, I sit at a large round white conference table, all the seats filled with men.
Trump sits to my right, a short-brown-bearded husky middle-aged white guy to my left.
Someone gives a shot glass filled with alcohol to each man at the table, going around more than once.
One round is an orange-juice-like drink.
People encourage me to drink each shot that I am given and I do.
It's like a convention and people are trying to promote their alcohol with free samples.
After being given a whiskey type drink, Trump says Two and holds up a peace sign.
The server hesitates, since they are supposed to give each person only one.
Trump says Two again, motioning his fingers, like he expects to get what he wants, like he is special.
Everyone around is awkward, expecting the server to make an exception, then they do.
I drink two of the same kind in a row.
There are 8 or more shots in front the guy to my left, somehow I get the idea that each shot represents a letter in 'Star Wars' . . . .

This Is for You

Hi, you.

I am glad that you are here with me now.


I am listening to Sunday Roast by Courtney Barnett.

I listened to part of the album Tell Me How You Realy Feel... just before.

I like it a lot. I probably like all of her songs, at least a little. I like Courtney Barnett as an artist and person.

Kurt.

Nothing hurts... Sometimes a lot.

I drank two white wines in the past few hours, a sweet and a dry.

I am a little ashamed. I want to drink all the wine.

I keep thinking of buying coconut rum. My mom bought some about a month ago. I drank most of it.

I was just reading some Edward Gorey.

I am anxious, waiting for my mother and her cousin to get back to this house... any second.

Mom got me a taco from Torchy's.

Patrick texted me, asking if I want a taco.

I guess Mom's phone died.

I requested a migas taco.

We walked and drove around Bastrop...

I felt anxious about myself and what I should do, alone in this house... again today.

I feel better.

Often I tell myself I don't care. About whatever or everything.

Oh yeah, I want to take a walk now.

B right b ack. I will probably continue this soon after I get back from myy walk, if I really go...

Okay, now.


That was fun.

Mom, Tiff, and I just walked for at least 30 minutes, the usual, Sanders Estates.

It was pretty dark.

I walked Cutting Horse alone.

I paused near 1441.

There was a sliver of moon shine in ...

I love that experience.

I talked to myself... almost all the time.

I almost cried.

I remembered 'What is best in life?'

I guess I prefer to start sentences with the letter or word 'I'


Of course, I know that I could have made better decisions.

I decide to stop thinking, then do whatever feels good enough

at the moment.

Help Your Self by Courtney Barnett is on now.

Walking on Cutting Horse, I thought that alcohol makes me happy.

Obviously. But I probably have a problem...

Only occasionally though, since I have almost no money.


I am sure that I should just go to sleep, in a few minutes.

Floss, brush.

I should read instead of typing this.

There are several works I know I should read.

Sleep is the best for me now I am sure.

I have heard/read that Sleeping is a problem for millions, maybe billions of humans.


It is Strange that it seems that

Tiffany staying at this house too

Has had a profound impact on me.


Mom just discovered I drank most of the wine.

I was embarrassed and awkward for a few seconds.

She called me a Lush... mostly playfully, jokily I guess.


I have to stop...

So many times, I have thought, I just want to do nothing... except think...

then, I think, I will just do what is well-thought-out, reasonable, responsible, necessary, best for me...

But I have almost never done that.


Okay

Good bye

now

!

Every Day Schedule for Greg Wredberg

1. Get up at dawn. Or after 8 hours of sleep.
2. First 30 Minutes: Walk outside. Stretch / do Yoga.
3. Write dreams, or anything, at least 1 page.
4. First Hour: Maybe clean self. Eat good breakfast. Floss/brush teeth.
5. Rest of morning: Read.
6. Around Noon: Eat good lunch.
7. Write.
8. Read something else.
10. Eat good last meal. Floss/brush. Clean/wash.

When i wonder what to do i will do one of these things i can do every day to live well:

- examine my body, feelings, thoughts, acts
- meditate, yoga, workout, walk, jog, work on breath, posture, appearance, openness
- eat healthy, protein, egg, yogurt, nutrients, fiber, veggies, salad, all natural, responsible, morning, noon and when i am hungry
* read books - research - reflect - reflect - write - appreciate art, music, movies
- plan good life
- be practical, rational, generous,
* respectful
- check in
- Repay

Notes, "Our Home School Mission Statement" (by Aaron) 7-13-18 17:18

Schooling -- habituation to theoretic consciousness - Maths -

Spiritual aspiration - enlightened wonder - in Love with God -

Fulfill conscious intentionality - Notion of Goodness itself

Be more than human

As good for good itself.

Is what I am doing worthwhile?

Yes.         I go on, Strain of Finite Achieving.


After School

Assimilate Abstractions

blunt blush bulk

congregate, collect, culminate

derive decline distractions

elevate equality earnest

foster fullness focus

goal-orient grown gullet

honey holistic home-spin

integrate island, Icons.

jolly joke jewish kind

kinfolk kismet

last longing loquacious

men memory muster

nuns new number

open orange Omnipotent

perfect purpose purple

ricing reason road

surveying success senses

timing trust tally

useful ultimate ubiquitous

vacancy valuing venerable

women

walking washing wake

x-it xenomorphic x-cite

yoke You-n-I-Verse

con, vex, Yinyang

Zilent Zuper Zeven







. . .

.

Ever-Present Goal

Because we can,
Humans should think and act
Towards the ever-present goal
Of always creating a better future.
By better I mean
Every being can
Experience ever-increasing
Friendship, delight, hope, joy,
Understanding, grace, beauty, love
And all the other Good.

Journal

Hey.

3.

Tiffany is here at 139 Michele Drive, Bastrop, Texas, US of A.
I just started a 2nd glass off Riesling.
It is 22:16.

She and my mom are watching Sharp Objects, episode 1.
I wanted to play Escape Goat online a minute ago, but the internet is too slow.
I am sitting up on my bed, pillow on my lap, tablet atop pillow.

I read about half of the homeschool mission statement that Aaron emailed me. It's deep; I like it.
I am going to Aaron's in 9 days for Malakai's birthday. I'm nervous but glad for the opportunity.
I saw Aaron and Andee at HEB yesterday. It was fun. Mostly Aaron and my mom talked.

2.

I am super ridiculous because I spent so much time making decks on tappedout.net.
I wasted most of yesterday.

I kind of watched and listened to Jesse and Dodger play Life Is Strange: Before the Storm.
It makes me smile: I feel cozy and childish and love and forgiveness and easy eternity.

1.

One sentence: tomorrow we breakfast at Maxine's, then farmer's market, then I'll stay home.

Computers.
Words.
People.
One Page.
Light.
Fire.
Heat.
Electrons, Quarks, Energy
Poop
Eyes
Rocks, Dirt, Water, Metal
Trees
Animals
Space
Time
Exact
Definition
Perfection
Is and Not
Eternity
God
I am Myself now
Here, I wonder. What will I do after I save this Document , Is this worth it , I should read it or
sleep ? Now . This is the end . I have about 20 or 30 more spaces for these letters . I love you
Good Bye













yes

My Gracious Goodness

Need to Think, which how is the most the time now to become what they need.

Number one, I am sitting typing this 139 Michele Drive

Uhh, almost Sweet potatoes and pork chops.

Uhm, TV on the Living Room, my Mother.

Number two, My brothers, and other family and friends, eating and talk or text, plans and futures.

Number 3. Hmm, Leftovers, Rectify, Good posture, Sleep, Work, Chores, Good body and hygiene and Love and Sex and Memories and People of the

Shapes Lines Textures Thoughts Pressures Weights Motions Lapses Lacks Bends Truths Drops Measures Colors Comparisons

number 4our

I should try to fix the

Soil, Earth, Atoms, Charts, Diagrams, Responsible agenda schedule curriculum, foreseen,

i mean I need to

organize, optimize

particle, pattern, Reasonable, Lofty

I wan a wife [ i wanto live a loving life with a loving spouse , maybe not , i got to do a lot. ]

man woman

on floors

right on time

Correct

Lands Roads Wheels Walls

Elbows Feet Fabric Mandible Stores Kitchens

Again Finally


All right, now I will tell you what I should do now

I will take the star

Metaphor

Good Grave

No waste

Make the person stand up straight

No cry, no fake smile or laugh

He could fight and save your Life

What is Realistic though

I understand Statistics and Economics

Just Water up there

A better whole Circle


Number five,

I am going to sleep in ten to twenty minutes

My ma has had a bad head ache

I read most of a New Yorker article about Pain research

Science Medicine

Unnecessary

Over-Reach

I focus on my Now.

I am itch scratch Computer Wet Sweat Heart Blood

Eyes, Vision, Muscle

Fatigue

You done know where you are

Little noise

Constant

Why and How

Why who?

All this to ask what?

I found the order.

The order of the order

The necessary What

Maybe throw away the candy

Realize

A pretty big house

A larger number of orfans

Practical infinite space light

Life growth

Inward growth

Perfection of Knowing

Control

Fit and belong

adapt evolve

Slow flow

water food

Appropriate

Like a guy I saw on a street

On a screen

Clean

Neat

Hair face Nice

Ready for anyone

The end i guess for this

              Fetus Anus

Breath to be won by World

So I was eating an egg halad sam handwics,

I sold her up the road for a nickel a quarter.

So I was so sorry to see her so down,

I for said they Reconsider at a dollar a pound . . . .

6-19-2018 Sanders Estates Walk

In Your Nose it is crazy,
but I want to feel what you believe.
Riding a tostada through the sunset
at 6 a.m. over southeastern New Jersey.

I cried about a billion buckets of hamster snow,
then I'm sorry your aunt forgot to give you a forest,
so I made you a box of aftershocks
on a golden globe after the wetwipe aftershave parade.

Believe the story of waterholes selecting
northern Namibia, April 2054, how the
Redbox haggles a 66 pixel per square inch
screentime with a toddler's nervous sinus

at 4:30 whenever; Mother, Eva Gorbon
sets a 2.3 billion dollar Webisode merger
to settle a stomach 44 floors up the air;
She said, "I know your Leaning sharks

the Tackle Bonk Boys, but leave my
interested party of people who were children,
and the Benefits will be two weeks
to three months of unfiltered Blessings to toe."

What I Am Going to Do

go sleep

• redoronge car
• get clothes off, bathroom
• swim get in hot tub
• watch swanger tings S2 ep4, 5
• eat supper
• eat snax 
• eat lunch
• sit in history
• listen
• notes
• participate 
• watch mario galaxy [I meant Odyssey] post Wooded Kingdom on Youtube,
• shower
• brush teeth
• clean room
• sleep in bed
• go to yoga
• talk to nice young woman
• think good
• read
• sleep in head
• listen music and words
• yoga talk to Dee and female comrade
• listen to sleepwithme the end
• read things
• computer time do stuff
• watch TV
• sleep
• walk
• drink
• use bathroom 
• think whatever 
• relax

Titles

On the Course of Conversations

On the Planning of Communities


Another Billion People

Universal Population Optimization

The Supreme Being Average Tasty Pissants

100 truths

1. I am standing at my desk.
2. I sat down for a bit.
3. Now I am standing again {-:
4. I put on Stranger to Stranger by Paul Simon and band about 10 minutes ago.
5. Today I downloaded about 20 photos of Julie, wearing less than the usual, onto my tablet (the device I am using now)
6. I saved them on the email I don't use. 
7. I deleted the photos from my device along with a lot of other photos and videos.
8. There was a screenshot of my homepage that I took in Canada, and I wanted to save it, and I am a little sad that I did not know I was deleting it, but I don't care really.
9. I have been wasting a lot of time, even for me.
10. I stayed up till 5 am or so, looking for sexy photos of Julie.
11. I like this album so far, Stranger to Stranger.
12. Aaron has been listening to Paul Simon a lot, and he told me a lot about him, so I want to listen to all of his songs.
13. My back started to tingle and I am a little tired so I am sitting again.
14. I wonder why I feel like telling you whether I am standing or sitting.
15. I am very hunched and sunk.
16. I just texted Aaron for the 2nd time today.
17. I am on my 2nd cup of coffee today.
18. I had the 1st about an hour ago.
19. It is 14:00.
20. I am jittery.
21. I fell asleep several times.
22. I got up a bit after 10.
23. Mom had just made bacon.
24. I ate a strip.
25. I ate at least 5 little powdered doughnuts.
26. Mom bought them last night, along with half gallon of cookies and cream ice cream, at the closest gas station for a bit more than 11 dollars. 
27. When we got into the car to go back home and watch Longmire, Mom said we are silly, are we not?
28. We are going to Gatti Town in an hour.
29. It is my niece Sofie's 3rd birthday.
30. I spent a little over 2 hours at Gatti Land this evening. 
31. I want to relax more.
32. I've been listening to McCarthy Trenching Spotify radio. I like it a lot.
33. It was nice driving and listening to Paul Simon with Mom today.
34. I had some nice moments with family, so I think it was worth going to Gatti Land.
35. I slept in till after 9 today.
36. There are too many weird things to type them all, and i am glad and grateful for all of them and my feelings.
37. i am having a kind of nice little weird fun day. 
38. i feel that i have at most 1% control over my life.
39. Most of all i am glad and grateful for all friendships, real and full and imagined.
40. I have too much caffeine in me
41. i started drinking alcohol about ten minutes ago, it is 1:30 pm in a few minutes
42. I started listening to Ought radio about 30 minutes ago.
43. it is nice and silly
44. i put on paul simon right after those last two sentences. So Beautiful or So What is like Phil McShane: Sow What
45. I have been awake for 4 to 5 hours today, February 27, 2018 CE
46. It is 12:56 according to this tablet.
47. I have been listening to Phantogram on YouTube on the TV, today.
48. I like it.
49. I've read about a page of Randomness, Statistics and Emergence today.
50. I just watched the music video Up All Night by Beck.
51. I like it.
52. I laughed out loud when I saw the credit that said CANADA.
53. I think it said Directed by Canada.
54. A video for Tame Impala's The Less I know the Better just came on and it said A Film by Canada.
55. It's wild and sexual.
56. It's almost making me cry along with the music.
57. I want to look up who Canada is or are.
58. I love Cellphone's Dead by Beck. 
59. And this music video is fun.
60. Last night my mom and I watched episode 1 of season 3 of The Bridge, swedish and danish. English subtitles.
61. I don't think I will accomplish anything today.
62. I read the lyrics to Cellphone's Dead right after I saw the video.
63. I am continually amazed at all these people making these songs and music videos. 
64. More time and energy and people than I can imagine.
65. Video for Genghis Khan by Miike Snow is on. 
66. I think they are Swedish.
67. It is 13:42 on this tablet.
68. I feel okay right now.
69. I was just watching Sinead O'Connor videos. She's really messed up.
70. I guess I have about 2 more hours alone before Mom gets home.
71. I have to drive and do stuff with people tomorrow, like talk to people who are not my mom, people at the auto repair shop, probably people at the library when I go pick up Mom, and the oldest of my three brothers and his life-partner.
72. The latter 2 just went on a Mediterranian cruise. That's cool.
73. Mom said we are planning to eat at a mexican restaurant. Maybe Chuy's.
74. I think I want to shower tomorrow before driving Mom to work.
75. I think it has been almost a week since I showered.
76. I have been in a hot tub several times so that kind of cleaned me.
77. In fact, I want to get in the hot tub in a minute, as soon as I can take my clothes off and put swim trunks onto myself.
78. I like using language as precisely as possible.
79. I've just been singing to myself "Riiide tha Taiiigaaah."
80. I masturbated into the toilet a few minutes ago.
81. Right after I thought, I am a bad person. 
82. I watched Ashley Alban undress and talk about her body and sex.
83. I just made coffee.
84. It is 17:11.
85. Today I've watched about the first half of Goodnight Moon ASMR's video ASMR Winter Travels.
86. It is on right now.
87. I really love the part when they fly from Portland to Boston.
88. I am excited to eat something soon.
89. A few hours ago I ate 3 or 4 S'mores Girl Scout Cookies.
90. It's been many days.... 
91. Mom and I are having fish and sweet potatoes in a bit.
92. We are planning to watch Longmire.
93. I hope Netflix works.
94. 
    

10 10 Word Sentences

1. Charles Freeman is a good doctor and a good friend.
2. 
   
3. I caught the umbilical juice with a cypress for you.
4. 
   
5. I hear sentences of Rome but wander through truant lands.
6. 
   
7. I mean today to be a roadsign , slipping to sleep.
8. 
   
9. A nice clean idea is shining like joy and release.
10. 
    
11. I watch the parade on the television outside the facility.
12. 
    
13. The doorman opened the door for me and my girl.
14. 
    
15. Second City will hire two or three helpers, weather permitting.
16. 
    
17. I saw Melissa at Christine's homecoming shindig last Sunday night.
18. 
    
19. People find the time we need, then showbiz never lies. 
20. 
    

1. Charles

2. Cypress

3. Rome

4. Roadsign

5. Joy

6. Facility

7. Doorman

8. Weather

9. Christine

10. Showbiz

the end

https://oakygo.blogspot.com - maybe some thin

Friday, July 21, 2017

I Created an Alloyed Seam

A Screenplay


Songs and Audio

"Sleep with Me podcast episode Fearlessly Flying Through the Fearless Flyer" plays at the beginning of the movie, starting with the theme song, and plays the whole episode throughout the movie, just quiet enough to hear, but not interfering with other audio. It pauses during silent parts.

"The Hill" by Marketa Irglova, the version from the scene in Once, plays through and part of it with just piano plays on a loop for a few minutes.

"My House" by Flo Rida plays three times in a row, it gets louder near the end of the second play, and at the start of the third play it fades out slowly evenly throughout the song, so that the very end of the song is silent.

"I Created an Alloyed Seam" by Gregory Wredberg. I have not recorded this yet, but I think it will just be me saying the title about 50 times with no music, less than two minutes. It will play at the opening credits and at the closing credits.

"Farewell Transmission" by Songs: Ohia plays at the very end then ten seconds of silence then credits.

A song by Sun Kil Moon, something chill and simple and autobiographical.

A song by Cribshitter, probably Jellyshoes, Acapulco or both. And Sunshine.

A song by Grand Buffet, maybe Oh My God, You're Weird, or one of their most sincere songs or tamest songs.

A song by Blackalicious, maybe Vessel. And Release with Saul Williams, Dose One, and Zach De La Rocha.



Elements of the Movie

There should be ten straight minutes of silence somewhere in the middle.

There should be ten straight minutes of a black screen.

The silence and black overlap for one minute, or there is a separate black silent minute.

There should be another solid color screen, maybe white fade to pink fade to red, or reverse, or black to red to pink to white, for about a minute.


Screenplay

The opening credits are like in old movies with separate screens and everyone's name in the cast and crew, alphabetically, and a different still background from the movie on each.

Black screen after the credits for three seconds and the Sleep with Me episode starts.

Cut to an oak tree trunk about three feet away at night with a telephone pole security light behind it above screen.

Cut to the ground about two feet away. Dirt, sticks, and a bit of grass.

Cut to me lying asleep in bed, from the perspective of someone about 6 feet tall standing about two feet from the side of the bed.

A Walk Around Dawn

This was the original title:

The Poem for a Monday Holiday at Home around Dawn and Forever

It is memorial day. I think it is wrong for anyone to care more about a dead Military person than anyone else. Doing Military stuff seems worse than most stuff people can do. No one is ever better than anyone.

The poem:

I just took a walk around Dawn
I think it was better than most things I could have done
I think I should have read or slept instead
Or ran
but
I sang to myself and others of the future
"
I cannot care any more. There is a space between
Any and more. I care as much as I can.
I care enough to make anyone understand
We are doing better than we know.
I just stop trying to think and let myself just be.

What is the difference between a reprise and a reprisal ?
Does to reprise mean to prise again ?
I rip out the root word prize
To sur-prise is above and beyond the Prize

I float on the Stream
on the TV screen;
Every second I am awake I dream
about a dream I had when I was seventeen.

I wonder who might want
to hear all of this song.
If you are too lonely to think;
You are a cool person I think.

"

Good Enough for Good Itself

No Electron - Reason Time Choice
This story really happens
In my mind
Your mind
God's mind
and in Space Time.

Its characters I help create are
Mary Brown
Jon Banks
Ronald Deer
and others; maybe no one can write their names.

I have to text Alex, or I will feel bad again, maybe worse.

Every 30 seconds , every thing bad happens
That might be true
If one defines Bad specifically
Or every thing good
and Every Good Thing
Come True
Real Facts
Without condition

Creative Writing

Hullo

The tidal Poise relayed a positive Near Pony hill side

 jiniojeburiepejn

Jim is nobody interesting.

Over joy even Beluga urchins rally in eerie

Pennsylvania Energy Joyce-oi-St neighbors.

 HBOENBOIRKNVNWOGDRUH

Hi - Bolo Origin.

Enter new broken

Ocean Igloos. Regen-

Erate kismet next Vietnam.

Nickel Wavers on Geraldine

DRUH, Rooster Understand Hello-ism

The End

For Trust

New Red Freezing Bellow Tree Taco Isthmus

Mellow Nasdaq Hero Husk Open Juice Flavor Edge

Greg Neck Intermediate Indeterminate


The End And

Light-Hearted

Light-hearted, dark- or heavy-hearted,
by and by, the soft and slight parted.

Feeling hungry, under their porches,
more cancers mean more food for the churches.

No Church People Ain't Got No Hortches

Aerials in the Sky

We are one again

Like a Story

Duck Ruins Your Mind

Rogue Pill Goose Donut

Seven Alabaster Kitchen Wishes

Handsomely Town Bereaves Holyscape

I kiss Ikea ornaments.

Humanely open Michigan expressways.

I hope he is.


You do not need to.

But there is nothing better.

It is happy like me.

The city by the sea.

The streets are clean.

The fair goers pack up

Their fair wares.

Children in row houses

Sleep and play a game.

It is a cool 82 degrees.

Life is so simple.

Like a story,

Like a book, like a movie,

Like my life.

Please like me.

I want to ask you

To give me a ride

To buy some supplies

For the week.

I think then we can make it

On our own

From then on.

What do you suffer from ?

I Feel as Weird, Strange and Messy as Ever

Reunion with Her, the Seven... Obsession... Weakness


I Was a Nice Cool Sunny Cloudy Day

Each night we sleep in different arrangements. Two together, alone, all together, with guests. It is new and different almost every night.

- - -  We all have fulfilling hobbies or occupations.
Film making, writing, sculpting, cooking, gardening, maths, biology, philosophy, teaching kids, whatever.
. . .
I marry. A visits often, sometimes M.
We are all good friends.
This story is mostly about my self Distortion ?
But it is also about philosophy
and the meaning of life
and Friendship.

The end. Jeez ... this is weird.
Also okay often visits, and does stuff with the Seven and I...
. . . .
We are the most famous people ever
Everyone loves us
Each of us has a Charity
We fix Poverty
We fix Humanity
History is good now
The future is good

The end.

Times Pass Nice Words

Being Normal

I watch Norm of the North Eleven

Times . . . [ pass ]

In a row .

Everything you know now

Is wrong ,

But you are a good person ,

and it was fun anyway .

I saw heard you being James Franco

Beside under palm trees

And mexican food .

Just after sunset

Miles from the Southern California coast .

Wet eyeball surfaces

Creamy night time .

Eleven years or so

My family fought . . .

My ancestor who lived

2 million year ago . . .

They began a fire

" Eat Meat

Poetry wastes Times "

I sat on Chairs Tables Couches

Beds I sleep

I hurt I curl I cry

I remember to breathe deep Lee

I float around Earth and Sun stars

99 years

12 years since

16 years

I spent 16 hours

I felt something New

I could not Move


You know the song Jackass.


You had Nice Words to say

The End

A Smooth Slice of Sootheberry Slipper Silk

I thought of the title of this post when I was in high school or maybe middle school.

I don't think I thought of it as a title. They were just words that I enjoyed together.


Words I Enjoyed Together


After my first few sips of chocolate coffee

I Macheted away Native Plants around the Backyard Rose Bush


I wonder what Sootheberries are

It's a same shit and a different day

Rearrange the popsicles , Honey .


It's a same thing and a different day

Rearrange t/heir poop-sicles , funny .


It's a sane hang and a different day

Rearrange the Pope-sicle's money.

A Liar Forces Fun

God filled my nociceptors with Eternal Love

I am a Blatant Liar and a Force for Fun


Summer died with Two Porches on Loan

I ate a Soccer and God rubbed my Palm


God forced my hand to pulverize a Gun

I sang about a Scientific Solution


A baby wailed at 7:30 p.m. on February 26th, 2018.

I saw the News and I Predict

No one will Witness an Apocalypse

Two If by Mouth

Two if by mouth,
She heard him wait.
A spoon softened
An un-early date.
Close to the heart,
A tragic beginning,
A timeless tailspin,
Slip into sharp skin.
Sit under their walls.
She begged of faith
By raising questions
And her right hand,
Five fingers straight up
Into the darkness
Above the bright mist.

Little Di-Mention

I don't want anyone to ever end.
You don't have to smile.
You don't have to smile.

I spoke to your mother and to your friend.
They bite their own tails.
They bite their own tails

Practical purpose and a floating Dime.
Sometimes I am wild.
Sometimes I am wild.

An Exerpt from "An Ongoing Letter to Myself in One Year (as of the Creation of This Title), March 2019, When 30 Years Will Have Passed Since My Conception"

. . .

but our friendship often reminds me of what i dislike about myself

but it feels better, more important, more true, real, eternal

what am i going on about

friends

meaning

purposes

love

life

laughing

person

poop

pips

tits

lips

hold me now in your long arms

dear judge
. . . .

i want to finish the new yorker shorts i began the past couple days

i just peed out by the south of my house

i felt good

my thoughts felt clear and honest

sun was peaking thru the trees

it is 7:71

no, it says 7:31


theory.


a ten thousand word thought


every tree on earth

every oxygen respiring plant cell

every nitrogen rich insect

every bedroom of every 30 year old father and his 9 year old daughter

every drop of coffee

every drop of tea

every bubble inside of a liquid or a human


Every possible arrangement of the bones and joints of living human skeletons


The End


Drops That Never Drip

From the Wholes of Bodies


April 28th 2018

I just heard the song Feeling Good about Feeling Good.

I just had a little diarrhea.

Less than an hour ago I signed up at BeTheMatch.org

I heard about it on Good Mythical Morning

I've been watching that show, catching up every week.

Also Podcasts, We're No Doctors, Ear Biscuits, Harmontown


I just saw Andee and Aaron and Malakai and Bobby.


Malakai's last soccer game.


Kind of strange

I lied to Aaron about how far I am in A Stroll with William James.

I said I am about 100 pages further than I am.


Mom said she might bring home Golden Chick, fried chicken, or catfish.


It is almost 5 p.m.


She has spent the day with Tim, Chelsea, and their kids.


After I got home from seeing Aaron and his family I drank Wine.

I read some of my journals from a few years ago, and looked at drawings I made.


I ate a slice of chaeddar cheese, ate a few M and Ms and a Brussels Peppridge Farms cookie and drank a little coke zero mixed with the wine, and I made hot chocolate with whipped cream, and i drank a little, I'll go drink more now. I waited for it to get less Hot.


hmm

boylife in america

cody chesnutt

me and you and everyone we know

hmm

fugazi

sweet and low


- -  May 2nd, 2018, 12:35 p.m.

I am going to post an exerpt of this letter onto this blog after I finish typing this. now.

The Lenient Seeker - Tully Tipsy Torpy, A Good Fleet away to Feel

You're a real baby

There must be an orange hole on your unilaterally unsatisfied poor pore porcelain sunset-sky skin.

Braid blaze, of the course you are a baby, the white 65 year old Rag
right
behind
every
colored Dumpster --

Here : Don't care - Don't care anymore

I will care if you don't - I will care if you don't I swear --

The blue scene raises, slick baby ;

Wrinkled grey, you move your body chunks: liquid heavy, a sense, a quiet

Falls ; Purse your squeezes ; Sleep your times 

I will hold your worry ; Your insane duck punch

I will sorry your head lift ; Just follow the groove

You are best - feeling solid - hungry human - Hold you, Babies.

The End

I Divide My Life into Seven Sections

Section One

I get born and I am home.

Then I leave home and I am gone.


Section Two

I make friends and I feel blue.


Sections Three

A world of possibilities for me.


Section Four

I stand firmly at the door.

I wait till it opens and I walk through.

I do not wait for more.


Section Five

To thrive is to begin again

And again.

Mmmm mmm.

Forget what cannot be gotten.

Aim to be the realest person alive.


Section Six

Chop and sharpen sticks.

Carry and feel the water.

Feel the weight.

Feel the way ....

Chop wood, carry water.

Collect the leftover bits and teach all the little kids.


Section Seven

Bring the Heaven.

The Attraction reveals the Force.

Of course.

Hold fast to the reigns and manes of an infinite horse.

Multiply.

Divide.

Odd equals Even

A Minimum of Nothing ... To Minimize Aversion

What was I thinking a few hours ago that sounded really good in my mind?

Hmmm. I think it had the word good in it. Maybe not.

I was more recently thinking this:

Everyone needs money to live.

No one needs money.

One needs a car to be a good citizen.

I don't want to think about the interview at the library that I will be in in an hour and 20 minutes.

If 100 percent is total, impossible comfort, then I think I am usually less than 50 percent comfortable, especially if I am trying not to waste time, trying to be healthy and considerate.

To children, Always be being careful.

Yes! I remember what I was thinking:

Trinity:

Alive with no beginning or end, no before or after,

Paying perfect attention to all things,

A present mind with everything.

Sounds vague, but I want it to include everything and be true.

Administer Indeed, Assist We Can. My Sore Is Throat

Cybertech Recruiting and Staffing - Austin, TX

Certified Medication Aide (CMA) - Bastrop

Bastrop Nursing Center - Bastrop, TX

Whisper Valley Farm Worker

Lettuce Networks - Manor, TX

I once read a book.

It felt like hours.

The same page stared at me.


Diving Woman - Japanese Breakfast

Underwater somehow

Submarine so lonesome


The Shape of Water yo la tengo

Claustrophobia, loneliness

Personal freedom


Guitars Gardens

I am boiling egss

I must boil egs


Turn on that thing

My tablet. Right

now O kay

Stephanie Borns I discovered Legion today. Grateful I had half a kitchen to paint.

Manage

LikeShow More Reactions

 · Reply · 8h

For B. O. O. O. ___ O. O. O. O. M. dot com

Sorry I am not a member; I have not had a paying job in years. I want people to think similiar thoughts that help everyone think sanely and peacefully. So I want to share my thoughts in Words. On screens and paper and voices... I want universal truth and universal honesty and universal creativity. I want people to Be healthy. I know I can help people. Everyone needs help. The End, I thank you eternally for reading. {: hope you have a nice life.

Poems of Consciousness to Help People Think ... I don't remember it all. :

It ends with ' it is '

Courtney Barnett Spotify radio :

Foxygen - Shuggie

Cass McCombs - Laughter is the Best Mredicine

Fat John Misty

Aa

Bernard Lonergan

Phil McShane

James Duffy - Guadalajara

Barbara Harris

A

Who did I just listen to?

Kevin Morby - Beautiful Strangers

Sun Kil Moooo ooom Kozilek MTG


___   Jaques Barzun

____ William James


Wredberg


The End

For Myself

Strong enough to die a little longer,
Read a book to know I am stronger than death.

Read a book to die a little stronger.
Sleep enough, relax, and honor my breath.


The Voices of Leonard Cohen and Tai Lopez as Heard by Speechnotes on My Tablet:

Shelter now the way of breath register weather the type of questions you think

this happen to me earlier today and I was like I got the freaking answer for you
I'm going to give you the damn answer right here
you want to know what
it is this
at your pay attention

I've heard there was a secret chord that David played and it pleased the Lord
it goes like this the fourth the fifth the minor fall the major lift
your faith was strong
we can eat poop
good Beauty uber through you
she tied you to a kitchen chair
a lot of those letters
it sucks some pilgrim
it's a cold and it's a no
you never even show it to me do you
I remember hahaha
I've done my best
I know it wasn't mine
I couldn't feel
I didn't come here to London just to feel standard

Save

Christmas once a day

or

Christmas once a life ,

Save yer savior ,

Save your savior .

Save or savor .


I found the perfect job for myself :

It involves me, the sun, the moon, the sky ,

And the Hurting Principoles of Loving beyond Science .

Pulls

Passions

Callings

Beckonings

Reckon

A snake in side a pool cue
, running thru a bull chute
, clearing out the afternoon
, raises all the dead for you
.

One Quarter of Four

Whenever light shines on history

I sleep inside a hearse .

I want to love my mystery

but she's burning up a church .


It sounded like a symphony

when I finally heard her breathe .

Now we found intimacy

and we will never leave

Line Way More Open Than Only All Light

Dancing lines of our theory minds:
Formless, beginningless, real
Theoretical images:

Live minds. We all gather at a
Dark forest's edge, at the waters'
Edge, at dawn, to speak together,

To reflect each other, to let
Interior essence enter.
The borders, peaks, slopes, bodies of

Our languages. We find light and
Voices, however far They are,
Your oldest friends forever friend.

All will be well while we do We.

                                                        sips of imageless under-known:

                                                        colorless blue water,
                                                        waves free of energy
                                                        swell out of the center,

                                                        feed the loop each way,
                                                        eternally perfect
                                                        homeostatic rest.

Our real relations, routes,
Routines, records, patterns,
Paths, pilgrimages, ideas,

Intentions, interests -
Mine our mind-lands for meaning-
Decision-action, connect our

Insites: remote fam radio
Station, small mountains, flat farms,
Helpful unread yellow brown book,

Rough dangerous human surface,
Di'm old grey gross wooden room,
Work-dancers break out beyond light;

Crystalline Minds grow and die-solve.


                    Earlier Draft :


The dancing lines of our theory minds:
formless, beginningless, real and
theoretical images:

Live minds. We all gather at a
Dark forest's edge, at the water's
Edge, at dawn, to speak together,

To reflect each other, to let
Interior essence enter
Our borders, peaks, slopes, bodies of

Our languages. We find light and
Voices, however far They are,
Your oldest friend forever finds;
All is home if We stay Ourselves.

             sips  of  imageless  knowledge

                   colorless blue water,
                  waves free of energy
                 swell out of the center,

                  feed the loop each way,
                       eternally perfect
                       homeostatic rest.

The lines of our journey, paths, patterns, pilgrims,
records, schedules, iteneraries, intentions, interests,
mining minding, molecules of meaning-decision-action,

connect our insites. F-AM radio station by a remote highway,
50-year-old book, 100-year-old wooden table,
150-year-old dim wooden room,
Worker walks out in light, now knows what to do.

Bbookkeepprr

BBOOKKEEPPRR

bbookkeepprr

Bbookkeeppeerr

BBOOKKEEPPEERR

Bookkeepeer

Booky Peer

Booky Purr

Bookeepr

Bookkeeper

Bookkeeppeeng

Bbookkeeppeenngg

BBOOKKEEPPEENNGG

Bookkeeping

Bookkeep

Little Bo Keep

A Book

I read a little.

Read a good idea.

Do a good idea.

Keep good people

Help good

Boo Goo

apple blood coup duty eucharist food god hook ionic juke kook look muck nook oak pew queue rook sook toque ukelele view wookiee xiu yoke Zuck in Zurich



Dipe Wipe and the Baby Milks


Deadbridge Goliath and Losing Intellectual Property


" He Always Felt Like Dancing "  is playing right now at 139 Michele Drive

I am me

On a flat screen digital television

Yesterday I heard a song by M Ward .

He sang something about dance I think. He danced all the time, Vincent O'Brien


I took a walk just before dawn ,

I had a tune from the song Assessment by The Beta Band

running in my mind , and

I sang this song :

Some times
I feel
nothing.

It's all
because
I am

Some thing
special
to me.

Texas
makes me
smoothies.

I walk
to the
movies.

Texas
makes me
movies.

I walk
for the
smoothies.

Sunny
Life's Long
Regret.

I won't
leave you
sorry.

Sorry.


Ha, House Cat by Mark Kozelek is pretty funny. {:


I'm really grateful for Mark putting a lot of songs out there. I'm grateful for the honesty.

I want to read Barzun now.

Topo Gigio is funny too.


I been listening to Courtney Barnett and Kurt Vile


I just put on the album You Want It Darker


I don't want to listen to it now

I want something lighter

Tim Heidecker maybe

I just watched the Bottle of Wine music video

How silly [: he looks very young.

Empty Bottle is great.

I like how hard Tim tries to be dumb.

I just cracked up at his face in the Empty Bottle video

Good choices Greg

I am the best person I should be

I am as good at being a person as I should be

I guess that is hyperbole

I was being wishful

I read about a page of The House of Intellect today

I'll be alone here for another 5 hours at least

I read a few sentences from The New Book of Forms: a Handbook of Poetics

I thought I wanted to call back the IRS and say I want the job

It is 6:30 to 3 on Saturday and Sunday

I want to wait as long as I can to get a job.

It is kind of crazy

I have been out of school for almost 4 months

like a hundred days

Ha [:

I like days

Yesterday I was thinking that Some People haved Lived and will

Live for more than Thirty Thousand days. That's a bit more than 82 years.

That is lot kind of

But if one wants to do something really amazing

they could fill infinite days


I'm cold


I'm cancer


I want to read mostly


Part of me wants me to die


Part of me wants me to come


Part of me wants Everything , it seems


and part wants Nothing , I think


I feel very weirdly content


I like Ocean's Too Cold a lot


I feel real tired


I should not have taken any caffeine today


I should have slept more

over the past week


I kind of like killing time like this


Times like these


And I hate it


I will always regret waiting

Thinking about doing worthwhile tasks

Then I may never do them


I may just

soak up the weird world

spit back a gross mixture

then all things come to an end

smudges of history

on eternity


Advancements of Oral Medicine

Facility managers reference micro organization

begin a long night

eat a vegan wrap

with Hannah and Kyle


It is worth one note


I have to give you


It is my opinion


I like Good Looking Babies


Quite


I have told myself to shut up thousands of times in my life

mostly these past 5 years I bet


I really want to do something different now


I will open The House of Intellect file in 30 seconds .... why am I doing this ... i will

keep my eyes on the words

I will hear the sentences in my mind

and I will think the thoughts

and I will understand something

The End

of this Blog forever

Bye {:

Love, Greg

I C. C. Ricady Bar Tools Leak

Salivation Salvation
Specialty Figures
Property Values, Properly Value
Figurative Figurines

Phanto Gram
Grammaw
Black White Body
Design Photo Edit Upload

Life is one day
All past is yesterday
All future is tomorrow
Bright Laid Person School Visitors

Jeffery Lewis is 4 years
Today is half time quarter moon
Soft round smooth solar systems
Galaxies, verses, laws, Logos.

Hi, me, I fell out of

your hair; my comb is blue; my
love is strange; my goofy Love

is Science holes, god forger
with a practice Gun Flute,
Property Grunt Blue guster.

My Pain is blessed by a
Gold-Feeling Foster Happen-

Stance Grace.

Look for Shame, Her Name... Life Can Be Praised in Many Different Circles, Kevin

           1

I think I woke up today.
Did you smell the sky when it was blue? It was great.
I think I can eat a ceiling fan blade.
I think it's June when it's February. He ha he.
Do you know a name like Shamus?

I'm gonna throw a bag like a rope.
I'm gonna throw a bag like a rope.
What was the line before that one?
What was the line before that one?
Do you know a name like Shameus?

I looked for Shame's bulbs on the Internet
a lot today.

I want to for give you, Seamus.
I really want to write that.
I wrote that.
I really want to forget that.
I really want to be better.

Other persons can never be me.
I can never be different from myself.
A present self can never be any other self.
A self may only ever guess at
being a different self. I defer.

I can totally see the tree.
I can always remember if I want to be her.

Sun. Camera. Digital. Film. CPUs. Fiber. Ether. Eye.
Sshee sleeps. 3 20-somethings do mediocre, lazy Yoga.
Shhee wakes. Shirts. Showers. Blink. Skin. Smile
if you want it.

2

I think I thought about you as lonely.

He accused a Non-Toxic.

You wore the purple, quick black, checkered dress.

We are having fun with it.

We are Avril-Levinely go-gettering an upset.

You are thin, slim, slender, lithe, svelt, Super hot.

I click and enlarge. I point at tips and tops.

We are aging ourselves twice as fast as the alone.

The depths of this night, the bottom of my brain,

my sick fuzzy bones of dust groan,
I imagine healthy rain, my mind clean, and hope for tomorrow.

Y'all exclaim extravagant tangents exponentially;

I'll pray that they others keep makin' that good food, thank you.

Mercy.

One Reaction, a Laughing Emoji

Hi, random Facebook add, what is your story? I'm like a person hanging out. I like words and people allot. Are you a real person? Thats is a Nice photo of a woman like person on your profile. I do things like this to kill time, I am very insecure with myself and others. I do things to get better though. I'm confused most of the time. Sorry for the word vomit, I think it is most likely all true. I have very bad posture most of the time.
The End

Food and Death

Nothing can be wrong.
Vanilla Gorilla Thong

Nothing can be free.
Apple Bumblebee

Every body's safe.
Coconut Banana Cage

Every one will die.
Peanut Butter Guy
 

Nothing can be good.
Fajita Taco Wood

Nothing can be bad.
Sopapilla Kotex Pad

No one is alike.
Fresh Pineapple Bike

All things are the same.
Coca-Cola Chocolate Brain

Independence is the way to believe their friends are real.

I Know The Beta Band

The beats are better than my beating head.

I have often ruined my great moods more quickly than I have thought of a good plan for my day...

Oh Bang, it's a trace of love through the pain... pang.

One Hundred Truths

1. I like to type.
2. Mom is watching TV.
3. I go outside barefoot.
4. I leave the door open
5. I drink vodka, tequila, and red wine between 10:00 and 13:00.
6. I am listening to These Days by Nico on my YouTube playlist on TV.
7. There is a photo of Margot and Richie Tenenbaum on the TV.
8. They are played by Luke Wilson and Gwenyth Paltrow.
9. I saw a preview for Isle of Dogs in a theater.
10. I saw Three Billboards outside Ebbing, Missouri in the theater.
11. I think it's okay.
12. I am listening to my YouTube playlist called Soft.
13. It started about 20 minutes ago.
14. i want to finish a new yoker fiction story called Likes.
15. i am listening to Small Poppies by Courtney Barnett.
16. It is 17:12, December 20th, 2017.
17. I think there is about an hour of sun light left today.
18. Now I listen to Group Autogenics II ... again...
19. I like it like it is the only thing to like, like liking is the most life-ful like to ever be like, I like.
20. I really want to talk with Stacy Watkins again. 
21. I miss her.
22. I miss how i was.
23. This song (Group Autogenics II) was posted on YouTube on July 23rd, 2010.
24. Now I listen to Careless Soul by Daniel Johnston.
25. I want to be care-full. 
26. I wonder when Daniel Johnston will die.
27. I wonder what he is doing right now.
28. This tablet is on top of an empty box for Community Coffee K-Cups, Breakfast Blend.
29. I emailed James Duffy today.
30. I am very proud of that.
31. I think I should call a lady about volunteer gardening for Bastrop County Food Bank. 
32. I told Aaron I would call her today.
33. Mom thinks I should be looking for a job.
34. I will take a walk in a minute.
35. A Springbok ASMR video about Maslow's Hierarchy of Needs came on a few minutes ago on my Favorites list. 
36. I walked on the street for about three minutes.
37. i watched Kids in the Hall on Youtube for about 15 minutes.
38. I want to burn something.
39. i want to feel better, maybe I would if I did something.
40. i want to kiss a pretty person, like some people I know.
41. i want to sleep for 8 hours straight.
42. i listened to most of the new harmontown today.
43. i skipped a part when they talked politics.
44. i like my teeth and mouth.
45. i like my eyes a whole lot.
46. i woke up early the past two mornings and stayed awake...
47. mom came home about 15 minutes ago.
48. she is making garlic bread for us to eat in a few minutes. 
49. she turned on the tv.
50. christmas vacation is on again.
51. she just laughed at a line.
52. i smiled, partly because the movie and partly because mom.
53. I am at home, I drove back after taking Mom to work. 
54. I think i want to tell her I came home.
55. I had no plans other than I was going to stay in Austin, then go see Downsizing with my family.
56. I did not sleep enough.
57. I got in bed today.
58. I listened to asmr and watched crap sex videos.

1. It's a few weeks or a month later.
2. I put on a video by Yoga with Adriene on the TV in this house.
3. I can tell I want to do better with life and stuff things I think.
4. I drank some wine and cointreau.
5. It is 1:51 PM.
6. I started drinking about 1 PM I guess.
7. I baked a frozen Digourno supreme pizza.
8. I feel a bit in love with Adriene, from Yoga with Adriene.
9. Mom and i walked for about 15 minutes in our neighborhood today. 
10. it was cold
11. it was fun
12. i like my mom
13. i love smiling
14. i love laughing
15. i love anyone
16. i love anyword
17. i just made up the word anyword a few minutes ago.
18. i was just thinking of a philosophy of being called American Yoga (or anyword)
19. I was just listening to Adriene and trying to exercise and stretch my body
20. and I enjoyed it so much and it took so much of my effort
21. and i stopped and felt somehow sad and overwhelmed and started to cry and smile and laugh and say words loudly
22. I put on the True 30 Day Yoga Journey on YouTube.
23. Day 2: Trust is on.
24. I am being difficult 
25. i just tried explaining to myself what is happening when I lose focus or willpower
26. i want to slow dance, interpretive
27. i want to listen to Stillness is the Move...
28. i just put on a cover of that by Solange
29. i love dancing
30. i think i prefer the original, but i am very glad this cover exists, but maybe the dirty projectors made a cover of solange, but i think it is a dorty projectors original cuz it's a weird kind of song.
31. Here is a bogglegame:             pine                 nine               pens                pint           bean                bane                short                       batten                    better            batter                fine               ruin                   pent 
32. I like teh song Celebration by Hotel Books a lot.
33. I heard it first last night.
34. I avoided sleeping. it felt difficult.
35. I think I am better this way.
36. it feels so strange and pointless to wonder how things if different choices were made.
37. but if we realize that we would have done better to do something different, then it is useful for future decisions, to not repeat mistakes...
38. i just listened to WOW by Beck for the first time is maybe over a month.
39. Now If Life Exists? by Jeffrey Lewis is playing. I like it too.
40. I guess I only have three more truths to type for these 100 truths... I really want to read someone else more than anything.
41. Fuck.................. One of the most ...must... emotional songs of my life so far is Playing Now.... It is For the Actor by Mates of State.... It is so Fuck in God dim beautifull Full of Everyone... For ever... near bye now, hello
42. 
    
43. 
    
44. 
    
45. 
    
46. 
    
47.                This is the Freak En end. It is all here    .  ...      now .. .
48. 
    
49. 
    
50. Here   I know So many KNow now, I know it, But I know All the I never know, No One will ever Can Never know So many  .  .  All the Never Knowing So much So Fo ever and ever .  . .  .  It is all good, but Never Knowing is Perfect Beyond 

Friendly Messages: Hi, You, My Head and My Mind Did Hurt Too, But All Things That Are Things Have Particular Limits, Bye Now, Then Hi

i don t wanna break my legs

runnin'

I do not want to be 2 years old for another year.

If you eat the public, you can tell them to do that.

I am listening to When Sunny Gets Blue by McCoy Tyner on Kamasi Washington Spotify radio. I smiled and got teary-eyed and thought that the music is beautiful. Kind of melancholy and nostalgia

kind sweet

like black coffee

bars in bones

twist crunch - Christ Church

relocate separate

skin covered, apology

night elsewhere

long hour hand

A 3.2 inch hair tickles the most lateral nerves on the human ear, and her name of choice is Delphi or Sigma

I never regret what cannot be best


Amaryllis

the drive way

23 feet from the front door

8:30 AM

stuck

locked

sky dirt

sleep stand

dancing un-visiable

cold enough

follow bloom

song tick

rake slip

crick drop

crack flake

pierce sway stroke dim flip squeeze

let loose

lose

solid

back

again

still

Earth

warm

I ask the time i am sitting through and beyond to end

I take a second from growing particle awareness the only balk trying Jinks western question firm Noble marble trees full of red blood the tip top The graph asymptote always almost Zero To get closer to know where and how I will represent the ever-complete Photograph of Joy and Peace, And give Pete a chance, Grey Beer Flows into the Gut, He pisses a Gravestone, I light up the Cloudy Eyeballs, My magic touches the feelings of Human freedom and choice, Give Gift

Dole Music

Sanctify Tool Breath

Old Create

Win

The end

The all

You then Us