(no subject)
It was a long day today. I met with Julie and talked to her about this girl in the lounge I had met the night before. Julie was my friend, see, and we often had lots of talk about life and the things that didn’t occur in ours. Like money, those cash flowing riches and those intense sexual experiences that never happened. She told me once that she just had gotten laid, but I knew her face to well and I knew she lied. There was a banjo on the second story of my apartment that played the violin and it sounded so awesomely exciting. It sounded so awesomely fantastic. But they lost their lives to the musical beat and I felt bad for the people that were living inside m second story apartment. I tried to tell Julie that things would be alright but I started imagining a door opening into heaven and it was so pleasing to see that I would be greeted by an escort of angels. There was a new vision peeking inside of my head, with something about a girl meeting something out of a fantasy story. It was one of those heroic knights that stood in silver and would march in parades and get struck by arrows and bleed on the floor crying out for the girl they had met just pages before. It felt so wildly exciting when Julie and I would talk of the sexual encounters because I knew we never had one. So it was almost exciting in a way. Be courageous.
I have never done acid. I am surely positive it would change me forever because I would just imagine the most obscene things about lounging in a desk chair typing something with two sticks in my fingers. Something crazy like that would come from my mouth. Something so insanely profound - but I would never remember. So I would have to watch it on video, to see what I did. I would perhaps do magic though. Could I get past the taste? Maybe, certainly and that six hours of me being more artistic than ever before would be oh so entertaining.
I think that one day my life will be met by a goat staring at the keys like I do. Staring at the keys and he will look up at me as I will look up at him or her or it, or whatever and we would perhaps say to each other “good day” or something pleasant. I would like to count down, so we could simultaneously say it. Or wait for him to open his mouth so I could say it just before him, just to spite him. That would be quite awkward for him to speak - post me saying “good day.” That is what you do to the goats out there - just be the one to say something first.
But the goat will just stare at the keys and type something about someday beating a human like me to say “good day.”
I bet he would pre-empt my plan and say “good day” without even looking up at me. I am sure that would be the case. Because then he could smile and say, “now that human has no chance to pre-empt me.”
Unless, I decided to interrupt as a I walked in before I set my things down - and immediately said it.
I must be insane, I don’t know a Julie.
Strong-arm it and break the system - and the eccentric views of outlandish fools could make gold out of outlandish claims of incarnation and blasphemy and the tools of the trade, the tools of the men who wrote lines about the master and the master wrote lines about the tools of men collapsing on the incessant structure of indecent friends - they were fools.
The scar of lives on inflicted disease were patriotic to the lines of text that wrote laws on the topic of fortune and on the topic of condescending men.
I sat on the slopes on alpine mountains and she told me that er life was boring minus the part about a boy who thought she was golden, minus the part about a animal dominating the land of outlandish indecent proposal. She had sex later that night.
But the master was indecent and the structure of life was inside, where two men talked of crunching numbers and the two men talked of playing a field inside the store. They told a story of a time when the adolescents were smoking cigarettes and appealing to women. You had a chain around a neck and thought were god - thought you were invincible. But it worked out - when the kid with long hair showed his face in the store.
Catapults catapulted rocks on the face of the god who thought kings were the masters and thought kings were the coolest gods of the finite universe.
He thought so hard about life. Three, four women stood so steadily at the counter waiting for a drink they knew they could call home. But the eclectic misfortune of pride consumed these four and they told themselves they were better than the rest of us here. A green shirt with white sleeves told us she was the winner, because she was my age. I feel so important today - I feel so important today. I feel nothing and nothing was on my mind. It was hard to observe hen I couldn’t manage to keep track of the place and I tried to write but the figure in green with white stripes kept me busy.
He was on fire - the scars were on fire. I was so humble to say that my friends were here and felt so sure that my life was intact.
But the figure told me that something would come and something was good. An old man was dying to say that he was somehow important and tried to tell me that he was the ultimate extreme being of time and place and fortune and fortune and fortune and I am rich with taste and I am rich and Andy Vickers was here and Nick Nealer gave me hug.
Having forty winks gave me quite the stir - gave me quite the taste of hemoglobin - And with you I finally see - the taste of fortune. Criminal misconduct in the sixth degree. When it was just thirty-seven degrees I stole a bike and rode it too, New Mexico.