Everything is Everything

We wait like its death and remember that coffee or tea won't keep a dead man from dying. So while we wait I'll have some potato stew and why don't you help yourself to roast duck on Thanksgiving day. And just remember, being together wasn't ever in the decks for us.

Anyways, I'm still convinced its just your amazing hair and the fact that I've never jizzed in it.

Some people say, "what doesn't kill you only makes you stronger." I say, whatever doesn't kill you only makes you stronger unless it simply whittles away your physical and mental wellness until you're a fucking low life.

A bit more stable. I learned to make it when I was a kid. I'm saying that, I'm not asking you to be a thing I'm asking to be a human being. Not a fly by night, make it when you can, triple adjective list of condition based nouns that seems other than redundant. Want you to be, and I can't. Won't you be the thing that curls up next to me, keeps waiting for a tit-grab-fist-clench-release and smile smile smile, pow, pow, blast.

Oh honey, I'm not English, I'm written.

and I fill with immense rage frequently. So much rage I am finding life to be difficult and ending unless I get my hands on some eggs and a brick wall to kill them with.

"One's condition on marijuana is always existential. One can feel the importance of each moment and how it is changing one. One feels one's being, one becomes aware of the enormous apparatus of nothingness — the hum of a hi-fi set, the emptiness of a pointless interruption, one becomes aware of the war between each of us, how the nothingness in each of us seeks to attack the being of others, how our being in turn is attacked by the nothingness in others."

-Norman Mailer


One's condition on inflated intellectualist thought is always existential. One can feel the weight of each physical limitation. One feels one's legs, one becomes aware of the enormity of one arm's nothingness - the drag of a hi-dens other, the emptiness of a chest cavity, one becomes aware of the laziness of one's gut to not be that other one's, how the ones in each one seek to attack the zeros in each one, how our ones in turn are attacked by the nothingness in anything we've ever said or done to own one. Furthermore, the twos always say, "One dick or not, I can always fuck."

-Normal Nailer

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"With the pride of an artist, you must blow against the walls of every power that exists, the small trumpet of your defiance."

-Norman Mailer

"With the pride of an artist, you must blow through any wall that behind exists any power; the small trumpet of his dominance in a hole of glory."

-Manlie Nomarr

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"The highest prize in a world of men is the most beautiful woman available on your arm and living there in her heart loyal to you."

-Norman Mailer

The highest prize in men of a world is the most available beautiful woman, heavy on you, and living there in her arm, heart loyal to you.

-Mainman Orrel

----

I'm crazy about dicks writing. Dicks, dicks, dicks. Dip my dick in ink, and I'll write bigger than you.

...and I was a little bummed when I realized that my Pop didn't call me on my birthday, and a little relieved it took me 4 days to notice.

You know... I want to find myself ignorant of the "weaker things." What do they do???? These things that the intellectuals define with unmoving eyes are things that intellectuals can't sing their own.

I dare ANYONE to find justification for writing or speaking or advocating or critically imagining any story or fun that can not be better exemplified by the original creation on its own.

All you hope for is some way to be some Major without the money for regular clothes. Let's see you wear molars of the finest human specimens. And then, college man, show you're friendship while you're still alive: and, if you're the poor son off a bitch, we/you/I are/are/am alive.

Forget that. With a schedule you'd be surprised what [elocution] and what kind of beatin' "showin'" you'll find waiting for you. Bullet or ignorance, you/I killed it. And by "it" I mean you and I.

Sincerely,
Gaaaaaaatz is my name.
Jimmy always liked it down East...
...Like a lot of brainpower...
He had a lot of... if he had lived....
With a phone call...
I'm James J. Hill

There's what you think is possible and there's the pit of despair and terror. There's rock bottom and then there's hell. Why the fuck would they make that movie?

I suppose that leaves one thing to look forward to when the machines take over. Fuck John Connor! No robot would ever make a movie so haunting. And god bless them, no human crushing artificial life form could ever become that

Hey baby,

Wanna give me some brain?

Sincerely,
Your Crotch.

you know, fuck you guys. you expect some dude, man. but I never, you know, sang those words, baby. And I'm not gonna be your whirlpool honeypie!

I miss my friend.

I'd like to blow my brains out.

I thought to myself, "oh, yeah, I'll go to youtube and search for that music video." But before I knew it I was googling it.

Never the two hands in my one, nice move, very endearing,cute.

EDIT:
I shouldn't have read that article so early in my day. Now just making it outside will be difficult.

That's so pompous. Tell yourself that so you can sleep at night, thinking that your life is somehow significant because someone found a plug for their leaky innards. I'll take Eight Days a Week before I take your love.

EDIT:
So sometimes when I'm alone, or sometimes when I'm not, I make shit up. And I like to think that I'll find someone to move a coat rack for me or something. But that'd fix everything and make it all suck.

I don't want anything because there's nothing to want.

Oh God Damn, blah blah blah,eat, blah blah blah,vomit, blah blah blah.

"In springtime, the only pretty ring time, birds sing hey ding, a-ding, a-ding. Sweet lovers love the spring."

It's pretty easy to parody, and all, as most things are, but maybe without it those people that make life so nice would never become those people.

I wish I had a pet monkey. That'd be nice.