I Name You Thee

my universe is my universe nothing more I forgot the movie is already written and I'm just practicing my part for when the time comes quiet on the set and action its all there in black and white doesn't matter the petri dish a melting pot and whod've thpught that time for got she asked are you harboring terroriss straight out just like that I responded of course but don't let them find out and rain on my parade they don't respect me like they used to when I had all the potential in the world and stars flocked from miles like wisemen I had been introduced to acute modern actress once whom I did not understand I was not ready for what she would learn to show me and how was I supposed to know we were on the same page all in this together all in or nothing bust falling and boosting just like that in the dark rolled in like the nothing it was now ever present and un ignorable I know rhetoric when I hear it but if its not vocalised its hard to tell when its written on a flat surface without without without its very difficult to tell and there is no end to the neverending endlessness I like to think I'm good at what I do thats why I'm still here I'm conscientious to my own personal worth and boundaries I have set myself up for success yes I have success yes I success ssssss ssssss ssssss the difference is the distance between smoke and mirrors and the music the byproduct the ceasing fold increasing magic persisting upon the china hutch we remember it smelling like corrugated embodiment supposing migratory vehicular dispulse I am reminded here of a quote by the famed psychologist all neuroses stem from mans attempts to escape lifes legitimate sufferings and she must be here to balance the scales afterall her name only appears in print at marriage and death its only right mortification of the fresh and the clean sit around long enough youll feel what I mean its not a pasing fancy all this time youve spent wasting to savor a certain flavour on your sabertipped tongue I know I'm plenty stupid and young the electric display works my bones to the knife and I twist and I cry for my nearly lost wife I cant lose myself now not in meaningless prose and purpose unknown I'm showing a gown on a gnome to the homeless in distress the cold desert of nevada peppered littered in dead sparrows and canarys if youre going to print this out you should cut the lines in strips and glue or tape them end to end at random

Yes They Could

     Cursive is a dying art; I swear the next generation will have no idea what I'm talking about. We don't need it, not in the age of passwords, those essentially personal beings. Its not our name, number or both but a reciprocal, something required to prove its us. Otherwise it could be anyone, just as long as they're here and now.
     It doesn't make sense to argue anymore, to inflict bloodshed or to expect death. The only difference makes all the difference, between you and me, man and woman, immortality and eternal life. The only way to press on is to push the envelope, when we only get tired of keeping it to ourselves.
     I am a genius, an expert, a professional. I don't care what they do or say because they don't exist, not like we do, nowhere near as well. Very possibly they will have their time or have had it, just as well, because in the blink of a weeping eye its gone, blurred from memory, never to return. All that remains is the fundamental truth that we're all in this together, regardless of gender and sex.
     We will not, may not move forward unless and until we agree. It is our job to convince eachother, to ring a bell and call it a key, to break the silence like the bread we were told to so far from here and so very long ago.

The Punchline

     A man walks into a bar. He sits down and a woman brings him a glass of water. The man removes his hat, places it on the table, and takes a drink of the water. He sets the glass back and removes his gloves. The woman asks if he wants anything else. The man asks her for a moment to decide and she says she'll come back. The man picks up the menu in one hand and opens it with the other, thumbing through the pages and reading by candlelight. She comes back and he orders a double whiskey and a coke back. When she comes back again with the drinks he orders fries and closes the menu, placing it back on the table. He continues sipping the water, smells the whiskey and looks at the coke. The fries arrive, she sets them in the middle of the table along with ketchup. He pours an adequate amount upon the red and white checkered paper near the edge of the fry basket, dips a fry and carefully eats it. The man drinks the whiskey, sips the coke and then holds the water glass. He continues eating the fries and sipping the water. Before he finishes the fries, he drinks the rest of the coke, sips the water again, and puts his hat on. The woman comes back, asks if he wants anything else and sets the receipt face down on the table. He shakes his head, she smiles and they thank each other. The man puts more than enough money upon the still face down receipt, puts on his gloves, gets up and leaves.

Two Breakfast Tales with Elbows

Kitten Me

In the present day near-distant future/ in space, we find our hero, Kitten Me! (that's right a kitten version of me)
Kitten Me gets distracted from anything productive by playing with an alluring dangling shiny mystery wonder device. Kitten Me chases the wonder device for 17 hours and falls asleep.
Kitten Me is astral projecting, so when he's falling asleep in space, he's waking up on Earth. And Earth seconds are different length than sleep/space/dream seconds.
Kitten Me sucks cause we're afraid of ourselves. Even though we're cute, we should probably be armed with a shank. Kitten me for example would be walking down the street, looking cute, when all of a sudden, a bad guy leaps out from the shadows. But with our new shank, we could stab the bad guy, after exclaiming, "Are you Kitten Me?"
The bad guy ended up just needing someone to talk to. Kitten Me made the bad guy feel better by listening to his problems and letting him pet us.

The end

The mail-order bride

Once upon a time, a mail-order bride decided She'd quite like to go to America. She crawled into a large box, where she hung upside-down as a bat, resting before her final metamorphosis into bride.
She met a pirate on the ship on the Atlantic. He was a handsome stow-away looking for valuable goods. The girl who does have a name, was singing in the box. Her name was Joan.
The pirate was thrilled to find his very own bride, because he had just swiped a wedding ring. It seemed like fate that he'd come across a perfect match for his latest steal.
However Joan had already been bought by a snake Tycoon and restaurantrepeneur. She was to arrive at an all-male school for how to be a nasty sick coughing magazine clipper.
The pirate turns out to be an alien, and his ship is way faster. So he takes her onto his pirate space ship. At first, she loves it. It still takes two weeks to get there. But then she got sick for like the whole time - the food was so terrible. Plus there was puke in the sink and the floor wasn't shiny. But then she got there and everything was hella chill.

The End

I always forget about everything that we talk about anymore (2150)

I saw a scary movie filmed in black and white without sound starring a group of unknowns

ne touchez pas la lentille

I'ma schizo hypo city kid, terrified of prison and torture, comfortable and complacent, sitting like a ghost on your own front steps, wafting in your direction. I am in good company, good light and good time.
pets do not read or watch television or wear pants. make sure you know who your family is.
plant treatment water

Touchy-Feely (questionable subject matter)
simple symptom
hint of acknowledgement
sign of depression
broken home
systematic stemware

Apology takes practice. It's never too late
They've thought of everything
I imagine you standing before me now. You are very smart and rich but you are not beautiful because you know you are not beautiful. You just woke up and I will make you some coffee.
I know virtually nothing about you, this is an extremely interesting situation. Who are you and where do you come from? I've seen you before im sure of it but im not sure where. Are you sure you don't want any coffee?
There is something better than nothing:
water, sunlight, bakery, bread knife, toaster, almond butter, coffee
they did not teach me nonviolence or self control which are obviously different
I'm not trying to confuse or argue with anyone its just sort of happening
something is nothing
Acid definitely got the better of me. I was sitting down when I wrote this.
How can you teach evil; that is a rhetorical question. It is impossible. I have secrets that you will know nothing about.
Nothing works everyday, only fights when she can. Puts on her makeup and drives into town. Only sees her friends when she wants to, nothing cares so she can. It's very important that nothing maintain a steady income so only may continue to enjoy the good life.
I had a dream where everything happened and I had to wake up and do it again. I knew it was not a nightmare because I had the chance to sleep in and it felt really good. It was so sunny out but I just lay there thinking about the dream I had that soon told me I would wet the bed if I did not get up soon. So I peed in a giant waterfall, got a drink from a glacier and went back to sleep on a vast pile of happy boneless kittens.
Raise your hand if you have a credit card. Now raise your other hand if you have credit card debt. And now let the fearless blast into space like a fleet of senseless bacteria!
left is wrong
It is obvious that the rulers today are figureheads carved from wax. I went to san fransisco and saw the real barack obama he was very lifelike.
Lewis Water and Clark Bar
Sack o' Jolly Ranchers
Government Field Trips
It is possible to survive on convenience food. They want you to, the dreamers. They want you to go to space because its big and black and scary and they want to see what's on the other side so bad it's obvious we need to secure our understanding of dark matter. I'll say it before like I said it again, I like my dark matter like I like my coffee - infinite and mysterious.

FEAR IS OVER if you want it

Calories are Creepy

Calories are Creepy (A Hero’s Journey)

In the future we had done away with needless hostility.  I am traveling thru the forest looking for anything of great value. Yes I will leave it better than I found it, staying off any sort of beaten or not, for the sake of beauty, random and continuous.

I met a man who has known nothing but abuse, he laying in direction the way before me.  I reached him cautiously for I heard his pain and he did not move he did not know.  The love bound our universe was lost without exchange.

“You’re sorry when you care for dies.”

He aks for water as he bled. I gove him my canteen and he dropps it, spiling out, soon as he was quenched. Of course I’m not, why else should I help dirty one into further abandonment and discomfort?

I’ll pick it up and continue onward. He said I don’t remember the context, lost the rules, now destined to fall too. They will put me because they don’trust in me, they don’t see as mall as me.

Also At that point I was waiting for something better. I knew it would come to this, alone in the forest searching and reasoning. I no longer hunger or thirst, I fell asleep long ago and it’s been this way as long as I choose to remember.

I don’t want her to worry because it’s no one’s fault. He died years after I left him, remembering my kindness there in the thicket and the high sun, the only thing he had lived for, to know that something, anything, is certainly better than nothing.

The world is now very small. Purpose is respected but hardly shared. We know that the dreamer doesn’t exist, that every word is only fragments of a wholesome lifestyle, thorough and complete.

The apxropriate amount of energy needed to raize the temperature of one g of water by one degree

It’s easy to let go when I wasn’t on hold, notinothing wheighding musackobbler perceptuchine

imagining one of cheeseburger good and personality morals

Destroy my awkward cortex

The skies the skies the skies

No matter  whadda

the chance to do perfect

I miss the magic we used to

Car Destroyer

            I can’t tell you why I do it, not to cause suffering for I by no means tolerate evil, and I have cleansed my trail of destruction long ago. It is a struggle against civilization for a simpler time, the thriving organism that senselessly consumes, turning our neighbour’s dream to a heaping wreck.

            One man’s trash is certainly another man’s treasure and we are living with a distribution problem, a growth on our neck. Veins of ceaseless dumpsters flow like plates through my mind, killing all hope of serenity. It is no wonder I no longer associate with those who drive vehicles.

            My father was a postal carrier, driving from neighbourhood to another, walking from house to house. He died in a car accident on his day off: Christmas Day, bringing packages to our home from our grandmother’s house. He always complained that he didn’t think the holiday should mean personally a vacation.

            I ‘ve wasted a lot of time doing what I thought was right at the expense of what I know is right. They taught me to be somebody and at face value it is now my duty and responsibility to question and rebel, for the sake of universal continuity.

            I know mother earth has not and will not provide the means for machines forever. We need machines because we want it otherwise, easier, faster, more efficient and then more comfortable. We better our world and discount our own involvement and power, disregard the ripple effect we might have over each other’s lives. Now it is time to put an end to our misplaced toils, so our paradise may green over once again, so animals may roam free without fear and in a far brighter future. The answer to the question is the byproduct of the whole problem, and the solution will remain.