A Modern Materially Wealthy Young Human's Anxieties and Disillusionment ... how boring and tired

I don't know

It blows me mind

... [:


That

Our bodies are cells that keep dying and being replaced.

More so it blows my mind,

That

Our bodies are atoms

that keep leaving us and becoming other things and other bodies.

And other atoms keep replacing them and becoming our new bodies.

And our brains and brain activity, the mechanics of our thoughts, are atoms and chemical reactions.


I think our bodies are parts of our minds

and our minds are parts of our souls.

It is nice to be eternal.......

Real Pretentious and Megalomaniacal, I guess

It is 8:53 a.m. and I have finished my chores for today. I started drinking red wine about 20 or 30 minutes ago. I want to get drunk in the next hour. I am listening to Strangers to Ourselves again. I shuffled the album. It played Be Brave first and now it's playing Strangers to Ourselves. I was listening to Give a Glimpse of What Yer Not, but I do not like it very much. I want to like it, because Aaron said he likes it a lot. I like being able to understand all of the lyrics of songs. I like The Ground Walks with Time in a Box. Maybe because we are both stupid. If I were better at life, I would not like this song and I would like Dinosaur Jr. more, maybe.


I am horny.

I took a walk a dawn again. Mom worried. I told her I just walked slowly. She said she won't worry about me when I take walks anymore.

I took my penis out on Cutting Horse. I covered it with the end of my shirt. It got erect.

I was running in our backyard moving dead branches a little bit ago. I pulled my shorts down to expose my penis, and I ran around some more. I acted very silly. I was just buzzed on coffee and my life I guess.

I want to read about Isaac Brock's brother Ansel. It sounds sad. I started reading an article about Brock a few months ago.

I like Wakin on a Pretty Day. The line, I guess he wanted to kill himself.

It is so silly. I want to battle my mental pain today. I should think in silence with my eyes closed.

I want to try to meditate, or something. I want to type my plan for my near future. I guess this is a start. I keep thinking about porn. I keep thinking about Annar. I think I should visit the staff at Cepeda, because they all know that I came back from Canada weeks ago. I am too ashamed to try to talk to them or listen to their questions or comments.

I am ashamed to not visit them. I think that they are probably offended that I do not want to visit them.

I have violent thoughts about people. I have looked at women's faces and imagined facefucking them. I have seen people and thought, I am going to murder them. I imagined shooting a hole through my head with a bullet and a pistol.

I thought about walking to the closest gas station, buying a bottle of wine, taking it home, drinking all of it, and getting sick on it, so I can't think of anything else.

All of that sounds so stupid.

It is all so stupid.

Is it really stupid to type all of this on the Internet ?

I like doing this.

It seems helpful to me...

French is funny {:

A Catherine Deneuve movie is playing on the TV muted,

I looked at her topless online a little bit ago. I also looked at Julie Delpy naked. Mom and I watched a bit of a documentary interviewing people about Richard Linklater. It is a bit cringe-inducing at times.


Bit is a nice word. It is simple. I am simple. I woke up at 3 a.m. and stayed up. I exercised again. I thought about walking on the beach at dawn next week. I love it. I do care. I want to cum inside of a nice, 20 year old, mature, independent woman.



I want to write a fun story that makes people who read it feel good.



I want to never hate myself again. I want to always do better.



I am tired. I'm at about 40 or 30 percent energy.


You seem special.

I do not like disliking things.

I do not understand why some things are good and some things are bad.

There are rules to Reality.

Is that true?

Is any of this or me worth anything?

What is a part of me and what is not?


I wish I would read......

I wonder why
it is so difficult
to try to understand
what someone means to me
by words that they give me.

I get so tired of words.

I have to give them up sometimes.

I have to focus on images and sounds and feelings and events and Other People.

They give me perfect relief and happiness.



I think listening to music is almost always better than not listening to music. Good music is like life.


Drums and guitar and a voice sings in English.

"Don't worry be happy" "I keep telling myself"

I love relaxing more than almost anything, I guess.

I love calm and clear.

It is TV on the Radio.


I do not trust my judgments at all sometimes.


I need to do something productive or I might hate myself and everything else soon.

I wonder if getting drunk is a bad idea.

I want to watch BBC news or something like that.

I love British and Australian and Irish and Scottish accents. And Dutch and German accents. And Scandinavian accents. And Canadian accents. And some American accents. And African accents. And Asian accents. Hmmm.... that seems to be everything except Hispanic and Native American. I like those too sometimes.



What can I do that would be the best use of my time and energy?



Aaron makes me sad and angry sometimes.


I make myself sad and angry sometimes.


Sometimes I make myself so happy and love myself so much that I make myself cry.


I composed a poem while driving in Bastrop yesterday afternoon, and I gave myself goosebumps.

I love Spoon. I love Booooooom.com

I love Louie and other comedians.

I love Life.

I love Kids in the Hall.

I don't want to hurt myself

or anyone.



I am only afraid of not caring

enough to do something that ruins my life or someone else's


... I'll be okay

OKay?

We are dying

Obviously


I like tUnE-yArDs a lot.

She is real pretentious.

It's wonderful.

We do not care.

An Old Woman Walks God Is an Angel He Died (2016 A.D.)

Black, Title in white Arial letters, normal capitalization, center, one line

Top half of the screen: An old woman walks for an hour and a half on the side of a road. At the end, she goes into a small house in the woods, then the sun rises. Cut to black. Scroll credits, full screen.

Bottom half of the screen: 1 minute-long fade in on some movie about an average American family, community, suburb or big city, poorer side. They should be mostly white. It's like a documentary. It spans a year and a half. There are 2 or 3 kids, 2 parents, and a few other relatives. Scenes of school days and work and chores and holidays and vacations and boring wasted days and wonderful long days. End with family eating at a table. Cut to black (same time as top half.)

The Title in Black Letters at the Top

free trapped
clothe cold
feed hungry
hug lonely

I watched Life Is Beautiful yesterday.

I went to bed about 9.

I woke about 2:30 a.m.

I had a wonderful dream. It was about Mike and Bob from Twin Peaks. They were eggs. There was a science guy. There was a lab or a library. There was a town. There was a rainstorm. There was a golfball or a ping pong ball. There were minutes. There was watching. The was a restaurant and bar. There was a booth. There was talking. There was a kids' book. I said, "Thank you, rainstorm." A fat man said, "My pony is as long as this table."

I guess that is everything



I want to cut together a trailer for Life Is Beautiful. I want to use only dark and sad scenes. The sound is only what is on the scence shown.

It opens with the fog when he says we're just dreaming. Then he sees the mountain of bodies and backs away.

Then the mother and the grandmother find the tipped table and food on the floor.

Then the boy looking out of the slot in the cubby he hid in.

Then the German yelling in the barracks.

Then when he carries the anvil and the guy says they'll kill you.

Then the boy says a Man was crying and said they burn us in ovens and he repeats it.

Then after the mother hears their voices on the speakers, staring into space.

At the end is when he is killed. Then is the freezeframe at the real end and the title at the top in bold black.

Slow Drunk Lazy Cowboy Gospel

I walk through your light
I never see any sight

I'm growing old
Hairs grey, blood cold

Golden water is the sky,

Bluest high,

Slowest sigh


Glory, glory

I will see ya

Soon. I'm done for 

The day.

Waxes My Boner

"This band waxes my boner!"

Waxes my boner - Causes me to feel indescribable joy and satisfaction

Diary, The Beast in Me

We saw Captain Fantastic last night.

I love that movie.

I am low energy right now.

The past three days, I was very anxious and sad, among other feelings.

I am listening to the album Throbbing Pouch by Wagon Christ.

I love that band name. I mean band as in Musical Artist or Musical Artists.

I am having a cup of black coffee.

I had a cup of black coffee with honey at Galaxy Cafe yesterday.

Yesterday I read a little from Chapter 20, Special Transcendent Knowledge, of Insight by Bernard Lonergan. I also read a page of Stuff by Joy Williams, in the New Yorker, which may be my favorite periodical after National Geographic Magazine.


Anyway, what I really want to share is this:

I thought of the daughters in Captain Fantastic and if I were their father, Ben.

I want to fuck them so badly.

I love their red hair.

I believe the physical desirability of those two actors was a major factor in casting them.

I thought of raping them and brainwashing them with orgasms, so that they are obsessed only with fucking me, cumming and making me cum.

The thoughts aroused me intensely, like right now... I love Beck {:

But, I felt intensely shameful and sad about these thoughts of Rape and Incest.

I told myself, I cannot sincerely or honestly want to rape or defile anyone. I should not be turned on by these thoughts and fantasies. I should not have these fantasies. I do not want these disgusting and dehumanizing thoughts and fantasies. I have watched SO much porn. I think I am funda-mentally broken, but hopefully I am not beyond repair.

Is that an incorrect or improper use of the word "hopefully?"



I am watching Austin news. I love the anchor Shelton. Sorry... it's the other Black guy. His name is Brandon. I love him.

I still think of killing myself often.

I am still almost always uncomfortable in my Body.

I am the Body of Christ.

Reality is the mystical Body of Christ, The Father The Son The Holy Ghost

Good bye.

Three Parallel Lines

44 minutes and 44 seconds

a music CD

an audio file

a recording of sounds

a transcendence of everything that is not I

Ascend to I

Not Everything's Ambiguous (Titles Should Be True (Good Rules to Follow ) )

Everything's ambiguous. That's the way I like it.

Ambiguity's not good for me, but I still like it.

Everything's not good for me, but I still like it.

Not Everything's ambiguous, but I still like it.


(( Poop in your Butt ))


Sex

is

bad


I am pure


God hates me


I love that fucking chick. She would be such a perfect flawed mother to anyone and everything....


Fuck me.

I'm dead,

I'm God

I love Beck

I am going to kill everyone to death

I hate Everything

I love myself

Why is all of this so hard

shit sucks

shit is crazy

I need some help

This is therapeutic

This is carthartic

This is helpful


I do not hate or love anymore

Everything is okay


I am going to be a good person

I am going to be loved

I am changing the world

I am going to change the world for good


I am Die-Abetic


The End

Sparabindifrenchineswahilermanglish

What Language Are You ?

What Language Is This ?

The title of this is a combo of the words Spanish, Arabic, Hindi, French, Chinese, Swahili, German, and English.


.....................

I used to be so much more than I am right now

It used to be 10 years ago.

I want to watch Black 20 on Youtube.com

I wonder what that will do to me... {:

I am so carefree and happy

I am on Facebook.com


I am so sad

and confused


I am so light

and dark


I am Annar

and I am a boy's pony


I ride to the

store

We eat

something

like

pie

Goodbye

Soft Scream Teen

THE OCEAN IS GREEN AND BLUE

I CUP CLEAR WATER IN MY TYPICALLY INDESCRIBABLY PEACH-BEIGE CAUCASIAN HANDS

I CAN SEE MY REFLECTION IN THE DRINKING CUPS

SARAH'S SHIRT IS PINK

MY TRUNKS ARE RED

HER BOOBS ARE GETTING BIGGER

MY COCK IS GETTING BIGGER

THIS BEACH IS HOT AND BRIGHT

I STARE AT SARAH THRU MY POLARIZED SUNGLASSES

IT'S ALMOST TIME FOR SCHOOL

I'M LEARNING GEOMETRY AND WORLD HISTORY

NOBODY THINKS OF ME

NO BODY THINKS

NOBODY

NO BODY

It is painful to question the existence of suicide. It is painful to question the existence of pain. I want self-control. I want free will.

Dear, Mom,  ,
and dear Everyone.

I'm sorry.

Today is beautiful
Today is always beautiful

Nothing can ever be undone

I am Home, Alone again

I Love Music

I Love Myself and
I Love Everyone

I have let my health and my sanity slowly fade

This is not totally serious.

This is an experiment.

This is Emotional Expression

This is Artistic Expression

This is the last line of this poem.

Favourite Twin Peaks Characters

1. FBI Special Agent, Dale Cooper
2. Hawk
3. Laura Palmer
4. Leland Palmer
5. Pete Martell
6. Shelly Johnson
7. Big Ed
8. Donna Hayward
9. Josie Packard
10. Sheriff Harry S. Truman
11. Major Garland Briggs
12. Dr. Lawrence Jacoby
13. Ben Horne
14. Audrey Horne
15. MIKE and the One Armed Man
16. The Man from Another Place
17. BOB
18. Bobby Briggs
19. James Hurley
20. Deputy Andy Brennan
21. Lucy Moran
22. Nadine Hurley
23. Log Lady
24. Blackie
25. Doc Hayward
26. Eileen Hayward
27. Norma Jennings
28. Maddy Ferguson
29. Leo Johnson
30. Catherine Martell
31. Hank Jennings
32. Sarah Palmer
33. Jacques Renault
34. Jerry Horne
35. Albert Rosenfield
36. 
    

Favourite Letters of the English Alphabet

1. A
2. I
3. O
4. G
5. W
6. Y
7. U
8. Q
9. L
10. M
11. N
12. S
13. B
14. E
15. D
16. F
17. C
18. Z
19. X
20. K
21. V
22. P
23. J
24. H
25. R
26. I forgot a letter. Oh yeah. T. Tha's good. T represents the cross that Jesus was killed with. That was very bad, maybe the worst. Who knows. Maybe Jesus would have made life awesome for everyone forever if he just died of old age at 50 or whatever was normal 2000 years ago around the Middle East. I guess the nails were worse than the cross, because they kept him on the cross. And they were very painful. So things and people must get better. Why not? How can we not?
27. Oh, there is no 27 for English.
28. Good bye. God be with you.

Fucked Up Canada

Sorry, I'm crying; I'm listening to "Here I Come" by CocoRosie.

I talked to Aaron on cellphones less than an hour ago. We talked about 30 minutes or a little less. He told me about some interactions between himself and Meghan.

I thought it might make a good story. I thought of writing a story inspired by what Aaron told me about his relationship with Meghan.

I pooped (popped) my neck less than 1 minute ago. I wish I would never do that again.

I am listening to "Smokey Taboo" now. I do not like smoking (people smoking; it's okay if a fire needs to burn for warmth for new growth... lightning... bad things always must happen at some time to some thing in some context. It's called bad luck...)

I love the song "Street Hassle".

I like when people who are obviously confused and conflicted sing about Jesus or say His name. I am obviously conflicted and confused. Everyone has to be at least a little confused and conflicted.

I am going to make some llists.

Mom and I watched episode 7 of Twin Peaks this evening after watching some of Louie season 4. I really love that show and that season is my favourite.

I tuurned down the volume of the music in case my mom was calling for me. She might get hurt or get sick.

Some times things are funny.

I am going to start my lists now.

I like how lucky I am.

I like how easy life is


{:

Sorry if you're dying soon OR any thing bad and I am doing more harm than good, I jkust want the best, but I fail to do what is best most of the time, BUT let us please believe that all will get better always {: PLEEEEEEEEASE, Peace to All, the end

Love, Greg

Gosh... my face, you know it, you are my friend. God night.... .... .... .... sigh.
by
bye

ACROOOSTIC

A is for Acrostic, because they are fun and easy.
C is for Let's skip the letter B, because it's a Bitch.
R is for Ride this! (I'm holding up my right middle finger real hard a la Bob Odenkirk.com)
O is for Obstacles that always keep your goals and glory in the pale distance... also for O denkirk, a la BOb Odenkirk.com)
S is for Sometimes we must give up everything to gain the only thing we ever need...
T is for The Time to accept the truth.
I is for Me, because I wrIte this.
C is for the oCean and the Sea and to See what is real, because the real is not what we see alone but what we commune with creation in the everlasting love of Christ. Amen.
C ya later! ACROOOSTIC
(bobodenkirk.com)
Bobo Den Kirk.

The end

Apple and Peach

You walk forty miles
to the place where I was was born,
then up from the bottom
of a well you bring
an apple
with your name on it.

I bite into a peach,
spit the meat into your mouth,
then I swallow the pit,
after you
accidentally came on it.

First and Last 5 as a Self-Sufficient Eater

       1

Dog shit Diet

He killed. he cat
She had a hat, she
was very blueyellow
My ab roll shot
the hard stem in
the hot brown ground
deep fluffy; my dry
eye lift, she opens
her mouth grey-red
a squeaming rock
rotates, girl ferment

        2

Tos   tada!

So, I begin. Now
it is 12 hours to
departure at
lightness and wetness

I hide behind wood
Time goes and dies
She saw my head and
walked away. I smell
thick socks from the
top drawer, afraid
and nothing no more.

Cheer Beer  ^o^

        3

: * ~ } { ~ * % : / ~
Michael Horse
Kiss m. Robinson
on of cherry lips.

Large painting

Michael? Michele

Zero number of horses

Move the large container
to the side and
the back, watch the angle
of the beams,
support your mom

       4

(Crude drawing of a farm house and a large woman)

Stop in South Africa
Soon A fall of Suffering
Follow Reess
Hot house
Near die
Bloon! POh!
Roger, Stable.
Doometal?

      5

Aren't you Proud?

Is it 4:42 yet.

Yellow barge and

banner. Many motion

National upset

Blood in eye, 4 second

pulse, Convolute

Deer Coyotee. "Food"

Greg's Real Fantasy (Prophecy)

I picked a head of cabbage,
green and light, and carried
it in my hands as I walked onto
an asphalt street and off to
a city. My Northern European
North American skin cells absorbed
ultra violet light. As night fell
and my feet were stuffed with blood,
filling out my worn-down dirty
sneakers, I went into a building
with a free restroom and sat
on a toilet and peed and pooped.

I set the cabbage on the counter
in front of the receptionist. He
looked at it with his thin brown
eyes. His neat dark hair rested
lightly on his almond-colored forehead,
and he said, "Do I know you...
sir?" He waited. "Do you have a
room here?" He peered at my eyes.
I stared off at the wall.
I breathed through my mouth.
Spit pooled behind my lower lip.
My eyes filled with water.
My legs lost feeling. I remember
a shitty generic painting of a sailboat
on a stormy sea. That was it.


Night fire
Not life

My mom is exhausted.
Sorry I have not done more.
Mom bot a birthday
cake for her staff.
She bot mini blueberry
muffins (breakfast cupcakes.)
She bot Klondike ice
cream sandwiches.
She bot all that at once.
It's not food.
I am listening to Fiddler's
Green by The Tragically Hip.
It ended as I was writing
"Tragically" in the last
sentence.
I feel sad that I felt
superior to this singing
man. I do not understand
why he sang those words
in that way. He probably
wanted to and maybe he
wanted people to hear,
because he thought it all good