Wednesday, March 14, 2012

chapter four - postmodernist apostate

the sex chicks hitting us against the wall they dropped to their knees and extracted their tax free dues from us we took it like good little soldiers a tan suit with dark glasses we hung the prisoners just for the sake of principal it was war and war is hell sometimes you have to stir up the diabolical to bring freedom to the sheep they get it whether they want it or not david doesn’t want freedom he only wants to pretend that he is a vampire and dances in front of the camera growling and showing his teeth someday david will become a professor of history and he will teach children the lie feeling right down to our toes Spaniards in armor like Hemingway in a cafĂ© drinking absinthe and commenting on the fish that lives in the water he is vehement about the ones that got away he is pushed up from the rush hour technique through lips and tongue shooting his load and smelling the dried blood on his chin he took one for humanity up there on the cross on rooster hill so the crows have a savior

she needs $3,00 to $5,00 a month looking for a sugar daddy we know she killed her kid it is only a matter of time before then plastic surgery falls of and we see that she is actually a man hiding in a female’s body aching like a wet dream trading places with a magic man he comes down from the sky and takes them away when they come back they are never the same they have this strange magnetic pull throwing off spurts of blood with a swollen tongue in the beginning there was kinbote and kinbote saw that it was good and he threw a cowpie into the sky and said hallelujah she confuses make believe with reality America is contradictory everything running as normal in un-normal times thinking quality to be an objective reality profit is good for the country 400 pages to make the point throwing names at us they appear and disappear everyone is insane a three dimensional character the young want to be entertained and not made to think she burned them in her backyard he made you feel what he felt the futility of war it is bad it is disgusting it does not make any sense you have to be insane to consider it a rational choice in life who says lets create a war only the insane

supporting you moving to the kitchen rented cars Chicago freeways Minneapolis it is really cold burning your snowmen the world just feels different to us getting very abstract and magical who knows which ones we can talk about capturing the world another sensibility it feels lonely and you feel less lonely hard for your own sake it is in the history a continuing struggle to do that magical stuff our lives are represented about change it ignores the very precious what it feels like to live I once said it was a lie but it wasn’t the machine still works outside it requires the use of many props the electric brain sucker from outer space wishing people a happy birthday things you didn’t know calamity permutations solving for suicide marching towards the enemy living under the white man’s candy ass the best test to machismo pandering to the extremists and resisting the fascism once it has been crumpled you cannot un-crumple showing me your secret message holding it upside down getting down and sad having ovulation lifting my spirits a total whore and a narcissistic douche bag the girl becomes a whore she doesn’t always enjoy all of the rapes trying to get to sleep speaking my soul back to me tonya found me in the gutter fucking amazing sex and gore and awesomeness she wears different little hats exiled to the fringe of society everybody stalks me on twitter its actually really sad civil liberties with the mail order bride liking to be depressed profoundly depressing an optical illusion a real good solid thing dumping the octopus from the bag everybody had job interviews they had been drinking jazzed up three notches sweats makes me insane with nightmarish days coming of age you are always coming of age

you touch me so deeply a big sweet happy woman not very sweet she said it was very good according to her opinion to become a real ballerina stacking your bricks they go higher and higher an unbiased view chemtrails and we have the power being controlled by giving our power away challenge the system the fate of desert boots and a faded pink skirt and fat white legs the sick white soul a long sigh cat exists and is god covering her breast and swelling crotch Barney Rubble we will wait deliberate steps and lots of people dancing a hello is never just a hello she said good morning and rushed off to the bathroom with a screwdriver in her hand in the distance there were laughing jackals ten thousand hungry souls looking for you they want you to spout forth illusion and madness shock and desire a monkey lifts his head and pretends cognizance erotic thunder claps the dark and secret dream it is a monkey’s dream yes internal nakedness and vulnerability you build the skyscrapers wanting to find Gomorrah burning the flesh in the bronze bull boiling down your interactions infected by your lust as you buy more and more filling your house with substance plastic substance paper substance biodegradable substance yet the void is still there the emptiness is still there can you feel the hole where your heart once dwelled drifting into the hopeless apostle reflections the analytic psycho with fingers and eyes watching you and touching you poking you with the stick of perdition screaming with alienation  shame on you unhappy about this back up camper last supper batons upon the skulls see them crack we carry their ashes in our backpacks taking them to the sea to swim with the fishes

she’s getting a website working on Greek mythology the only ones she can think of writing up all the gods it is like magic before sunrise four feet fell off one particular thing taking the top off she had a chicken that had no bones short memory how have things turned out it makes it look even the surface is even glossy sometimes we want things to be different taking the sheets off the windows the sun rising a beer bottle and wire a sailor with his thumb up and a gratuitous smile paying for everything taking you out for lunch and I will pay he hugs the bear and the bear rips his limbs off losing your mind in the desert in a shed taking things for granted talking live with people making a connection being more honest in the venue step by step things get there I don’t know about the future I don’t know how to use the book an escaped parakeet many years ago Las Vegas show dancers drinking coffee they meet on Wednesdays tending their gardens and spraying curbs married three times he doesn’t do art any more a big battle with the county developing the property so much red tape in jail like Martha Stewart insider trading sleazy politicians listening without judgment a feeling on this research is needed both sides of the argument my healthy girl her fever broke it might work out negating existence two hours and ten minutes making a video and not knowing what to say my own vantage point inarticulate babble a brutal murder everyone is dead in the company of thieves in the air flying away into nothingness a ponderous tale a wandering abandon the earth to the first conspiracy from the olden days with henry reading a mystery book internal war teenaged renegades on crack the renegades of funk an iron council just because you are sad people love me stop being sad extinction ruining my parade the skin I live in most anticipated attempting to migrate out of the woodwork a rational foundation we make up reality no reasonable doubt a personal interest bullshit with attitude remaking self not being able to figure out what is right not helping the cause the word means the subject no sale you can’t think for yourself thousand year old dogma a god delusion mouthing those words every other reference on earth pine soil and original thoughts I can’t articulate anything some kind of bullshit explaining the authority to play the game to create the victim lets go on a joy ride and say tough shit not that kind of person on a grand mission forked tongue useless piece of turd testing for blood in the stool a conversation about liberty a molecule a stupid idiot choices bowing to the truth no rescue mission retarded redundancy a delusion in my mind no necessity only in my perception a perception of importance not in this reality my nonsensical perspective imposing injustice and a pile of shit what am I doing why am I hear I can’t even tell you why a feeling that it needs to take place a point where it doesn’t get undone unpleasant adventures fuck that asshole let the idiots go qualified to be god to play god wanting to risk your welfare the egg did it I don’t know how he manages robotically controlled beyond my control it is forced on me by the biology talking about somebody’s words two kinds of good behavior principles because I like it motivated by my emotions understanding the mechanics

a tiny pair of sunglasses and a little hair clip something inside her was blossoming her smile said fuck me a delayed adolescence sipping on grape soda and being envious of the others I might end up left behind forgotten a piece a trash blowing in the wind tell me when I stop making sense excuse me am I supposed to be at your beckon call going through the ups and downs seeing as a defection being a deserter betraying humanity for a crummy cause most people live fictional lives inside their heads there are the things they do to survive and then there is the fantasy world that they build up in their head how is your fantasy world running today have you made yourself someone’s savior have you crushed the symbolic representation of evil left to drift in outer space losing oneself to the world of external forces after all this do not hate me do not regret that you were born that you became what you are rip out your pure heart show me the purity I have read about it when I was in school I thought the pure were the figment of an overactive imagination they were created for the movies or something a mad scientist cooked them up in his special ultra secret laboratory west berlin gallery district

she tells me about sex with her husband how he begs her for more but she can’t give him what she wants she holds back and she wonders why I record everything on a vintage tape cassette recorder using old technology makes me feel more analog than digital I like to feel analog especially conducting research with desperate housewives now when I’m studying fish wives I go purely digital the digital recording goes more better with the fish scales and the tentacles are not bothered by the electronic hum of the bridge they have strung Christmas lights across it and the enemy tries to blow it up every night I did find a silver pentagram buried deep in one of your cardboard boxes that you left in the basement it had some strange substance that I washed off with some warm water and soap I hope I didn’t diminish its powers they say welcome back and one more thing scratching their boobs with wooden spoons ten to twelve of them absolutely think about that verbal signification at some point verbal fragments sitting in a boat full time for better and for worse align your stars to the coordinates a verbally constructed modern world what about the old world the old reality are they less significant because of their oldness is new always better what is better how do we know that better is better isn’t it all just arbitrary labels that we place randomly upon things

profound pain rage and lust for destruction already thinking the thoughts they are inside you and come out of you at strange intervals unpredictable even demonic thoughts that seem unfamiliar in the light of examination there is an understanding and a pleasure that coexists in your world this world that you have created your own special world your objects form the world your world and not mine my objects form my world our imaginary worlds must have something in common with the real world there is some thread rather real or unreal that connects the two worlds of reality and make believe we make to ourselves pictures of facts you string them along behind you like a trail of shrunken heads she was the earthy wife of an angel exploring the pathway of communication with the universe there are multiple roads that run from this world to the other is like a monstrous system of tentacles that run between both worlds fresh with modern paint as they are created and recreated anew making unknown laws that influence our puny spheres it reaches up to reality the image must have something in common with what it represents thus the magical correlation of cause and effect the two exist in relation to the other representing a possibility of existence and non-existence thus what we can think is what we can create in both worlds the world of reality and the alternative world the only laws we are bound by are cause and effect we move things and other things move use we are pool balls crashing into each other and bouncing against the cushions or conception of reality is the table that confines the chaos of our movement occasionally a ball leaves the structure of the pool table likewise we on rare occasions can escape the confines of our own box of reality when we speak when we think when we act we change reality we need to create new thoughts and new words and new actions that are beyond this world that are beyond this reality the untrained emotions to aspire to the divine lusting for a beauty that fades we must become young it takes a long time to become young we must work at it and become a child

they are wearing the earth the earth is their mask it is the material that they build their lives up from we have come from the earth and our beauty are from the things of the earth at your deathbed coming to life with changing yellow can with a mountain of beer cans without a strong back you still would come down and hook up the vibrator plugging the cord into the wall outlet being more than an alcoholic we watch as the smoke flickers away pretending to be a puppet of life living in the dark with the wishes of internet lesbians reaching through you for all the impossible dreams dragging you up the stairs anointing you with the burnt pages of sexus impossible communication perpetuating narcissism all there is you and this other thing hover over your head living in a narrow world the you in the words that I speak that I write down both here and not here at once the same a form of torture not being able to remember choosing the numbness of your own lips preferring a numbness instead of the pain of life altered perceptions the relationship that you believe that you have you cannot be all these things all you want is more to finally take all you can to find the end using me for your false relationship I am invisible I do not exist I try to be visible but you cannot see me you won’t see me disengage me stop looking inside of me for something that doesn’t exist seek me no more it never has to be about one single thing not just one kind of darkness you gather up all the dark pieces thinking you can put them together to create a whole thing a functioning thing but broken things to not make the whole you cannot find health in your brokenness in your delusions in your romantic beliefs of right and wrong you want to express all of the layers not able to consider the other worlds attaching things to me and believing in me creating a false rationalization attaching your feeling to me and making me suffer as the result you can use me but there will be consequences the faceless have a face the voiceless have a voice lifting you up through the complications of a mechanical contraption wanting to believe in the real when you never were from the real world you are from the unreal world where right and wrong do not exist feeding your need contraptions machinations of the specific and it could be anything it makes you sing putting you at a loss

we have chosen to ignore the rules to turn our backs upon the standards that have been established gone is the structure that you find comfortable gone are the rules that you have depended on learning  from the humanistic elements under the floorboards next to the dirt and the foundation the pipes and the wires you can’t make them be what you want them to be what is your definition of life asking for a personal opinion life is eating shits and breathing desire and addiction suddenly life makes sense to you even though you believe in his made up world where only he can be right and everyone else is wrong natural things by natural pathways constant self renewal of structure it is the structure that works against you that creates the rules you want to break catalysts produced by the system a chemical system capable of change and redemptive processes a population of molecules that is able to self replicate the selfish gene selfish numskull it’s not what you wanted you sprinkled dust around my bed and shook at me a black cat bone casting your spell the way you got me loving you girl I did everything I could to make this fire grow and grow I am piling up the bones watching it all burning down creating a big enough lie for everyone to believe in I am making you believe because you need something to believe in or else you will die so it is better to believe in a lie I became a lie so that you will live I made myself ugly so that you could be beautiful I gave away all my possessions so that you might be rich there is one love one life one blood that flows from my veins to yours what you want and what you need are two different things I give you what you need it is like nine thousand I almost forgot the lies the lies are so important I am stealing them from the book of lies from Lucifer and the physical magic taking the fish out of your pants taking you to the castle of your dreams the kingdom under the green my god stands on my computer and watches over me it has a world of other meanings she kept her head and kicked off her shoes blindly regurgitate the endorphins shouting down the singular fuck the greater good I want what’s best for me and have no interest for the public welfare

Gie often wore something over his face especially when he was robbing gas stations he would use the money to buy drugs and would always put a ten spot in the church offering plate it was his way of atoning for his sins Gie felt guilty about his crimes but he justified them with the thought that he never really hurt anyone but himself I think Gie wanted to die and his drug use was a slow form of suicide his limbs are made glorious when he injects the drugs into them he has touched the words with life and death Gie is the pride of the ages a stony little pride waving a gun in the face of a sales clerk would they die for minimum wage would they die for corporate greed the bone farm courted the crops one by one made extensive notes detailed their likes and dislikes what was their favorite foods what books they had read if they liked to go to the movies Gie is driven with his note taking he thought he was Jesus and that the president was the antichrist he said the president was putting computer chips in little children to track them Gie was arrested for shooting his assault rifle at the white house by the time you get to this people will have already forgotten there will be some new tragedy to take hold of the headlines some new celebrity mishap a football coach molesting children or a mother who killed her child and then lies on camera that someone crawled in through the bathroom window she knows the whole god damned movie by heart making the interest stronger she would wear white gloves and walk right between us she would send a shiver down my spine when she would do this I put on my shirt and went down to the lobby to see what was going on giving three witches the eye the blonde one was quite a dancer she never asked why I was leaving I grabbed my hat and coat and went outside into the night cold I was working in some insurance office back then selling life insurance to newlyweds I would look through the paper to find wedding announcements and then find their address I would call them up and tell them I had important information that all newly married people should consider if they truly loved each other when I got to their home I really laid the shit on heavy I told the husband that as a guy he had the duty to provide for the little lady if god forbide he should die I would tie up loyalty duty honor and love into a little sales package most of the suckers fell for it I tried to get them to give me a cash advance or write the check in my name most of the time I pocketed the money and didn’t file the paper work they all got up and left for some show at the strand a vaudeville act with dancing monkeys and dogs riding bicycles the last act was bertha the stripper who would come out on stage and swivel her hips singing meet you around the corner in a half an hour it was all very entertaining but I had seen the show two million times it seems like everyone just off the bus wants to see a show like that it must be on some list of the top ten things do

my fortress the place of frozen instincts the power to conceal my madness I am afraid that I will jump up on the stage and dance the hoochie coochie with bertha while singing the star spangled banner bertha has a strange look in her eye she wants to run away with me to Siberia she is packing all her masks in her bags African masks to show the children she doesn’t mind when I criticize her diving the preciousness of the albertine how many more enigmas are there for me to solve that is why I write with such vehemence such distortion such despair there is so much to say between us that cannot fit in books we must get these words out it is an obsession or a possession which I am not sure a power through sheer feeling that captivates I am your captive in chains I am held prisoner by your words the tragic desire for understanding in the midst of tragedy is this what it means to be human too long for that which we cannot have to see the dream crushed into dust to fall victim to the fabrications of the wicked flat lifeless vulgarity the torrential style of these large thoughts seeking a common denominator I did not love bertha enough I only dominated her with guilt and dinner reservations she preferred to drink wine and eat chocolates we would sit by the table next to the window and watch the people walk by we would guess as to what they did for work if they were married or lived alone if they read Dostoevsky or listened to Sergeant Pepper’s I am a force and I am filled with my own justifications it is an impersonal force an animal force it outside of me this power I was born with grows beyond me it reaches past me into the lives of others I hated the way that bertha would crumble before me the scars never seem to heal I am always hungry for love I live by impulse and passion by the white heat of love oblivious to space and time and people and place I go on living in this ecstatic hell being moved by the winds of fate not knowing their cause just being blown if I could I would renounce my mind my works my effort and merely live not suffering the slings and arrows that confront my mind if only I could give this thing up and live a life like all the others showing the depths the immensity of the darkness I have lost my mind to bertha and would follow her to the ends of the earth she has destroyed reality she has destroyed conscience with her bells and whistles bertha is not bothered by truth she invents her life as she goes along she sees no difference between the real world and the world of make believe she travels from one to other freely I don’t know how to distinguish her to extinguish her I love her for that she takes the imagination so seriously it is my courage to hurt that she hates I carry her around with me like carrying a corpse I go door to door asking to be let in but no one will let me in carrying a corpse they are afraid that I am some mad scientist and will raise the dead I have given this dead body most of what dazzles you the love for the black colors the denial of god the social construction of love the seeing with the sociological imagination it is not the personal troubles but the social forces how full you are with the riches of others I was ready to give the dead everything to give bertha everything I have invented and created for her expanding her to fill the universe there is no bertha in the physical sense she has become metaphysical beyond this earthly experience she moves now in the world of emotions pure emotions whether good or bad they are hers the illusion she fights with crude words she is unreal even to me I don’t know her she is illusion and mystery she sits eternally in the tall black armchair

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