It's pieces of a plastic cup. Thank you, for everything you've done for me.
My little dog's porky now and an addict. She's got the manipulative mind and behavior, but due to mixed messages, I fear. I'm afraid to show her some tenderness before her bedtime, because that means she's going to be eating ham.
This one time I thought I was going to die after a few days of playtime. I was on my bed. A few minutes earlier, I had got to what little was left on the bathroom floor, along with who knows what chemicals. I didn't know if it was posion, or a heart attack or stroke; I couldn't move or breathe lying on my bed. When I was standing my whole body was numb. I kept whimpering in a voice I'll never forget, "please no, please no." I also kept repeating, "I'm so scared, I'm so scared," in a quick, continuous drone-like monotone. It felt like my brain had snapped.
I tried to blog "forgive me"
A few hours later I deleted it. After that time, I got angry. From then on, I ignored physical symptoms, cause the uncouth fucker was trying to kill playtime.
This other time I thought I had found my video. I was worn out; I didn't know if I could go again. Life was dragging me. I walked into the bathroom and he was sitting on the floor. If this was the real thing, it would trump everything. I would have to go again. This was the Holy Grail; then I would hang myself. Or go to sleep, forever, waking only for awhile. I was talking to myself in my head—I was sitting on my bathroom floor hiding with my ipad in my lap—like my father talked to me over the phone when my grandpa had died. I felt like I had my hand slightly on his shoulder when I told him. There wasn't time for sad; it was bigger. Though here I was telling him that we had found it. He was tired. We had been anticipating it for some time, and it was that tip of anticipation, the moment it becomes real. I watched it in a few more sessions, then when playtime crept up on me then I couldn't remember the title again. When playtime went wild, this started occurring frequently, and in quick moments passing. I would save them ferociously; some of them I didn't have time to get to. It was always her. Deep down, when it was over, I would bemoan the fact that I couldn't get to the other ones. I have to see it, all of it. I became her. I became him. I became them together. I knew exactly what each was thinking. I became every sensation, every moment, and every sound she made. I wonder if I would hang myself, if it was her. I don't ever want to know, because I'll never stop.
i have a problem with ego
not the waff—shut up!
sorry
mine is the size of america's obesity problem
ego and confidence are completely different things
different realms
i worked out today
enjoyed working
felt useful and innovative
sleepless it doesn't make a difference
im tired of watching lord of the rings
i keep renting it
even the great battle scenes are starting to bug me
even gandolph is
like shut up Gandolph!
stop being so...grand
and warm
should've looked for Born in East LA
i don't want to watch anything
esp. not comedy
too tired
i keep smoking
i want to sleep or get drunk then
i don't even want to get drunk, im too tired
i don't even want to think about motels
even these stupid pills aren't working
that quack ill have him clubbed
in the knee
my therapist is a fuckin marriage counselor, how the hell's am i supposed to explain playtime to him?
aa's boring, i can't sit still
i had a good dinner
i only went in cause i felt bad for the owner
there was no one there
dickless yelpsters
im a wonderful person
give me the belt
the wwf belt
funny choice of words
dickless, not belt
prolly think its suicide
like, Lou, where's your belt?
why? rather just playtime
think im setting myself up
i was in one of my best moods today
like of all time
i thought god was in everyone
that we are all one
the good in people
even assholes don't know they're capable of it
my heartfelt speech
get a good tear drip
i like spite, and if someone resents you even jucier
resenting someone because you think he resents you, faggedabodid
he's gelus! the villain
better check my stats
it's been a few minutes
im out of cigarettes
heres a poem about cigarettes
i put it on my fb
im back on fb
already its making me more neurotic
when friends of friends post broad affirmations of self-actualization, or i stumble upon posts deriding selfseeking
i comment asking if that's about me
fuck the poem
ill just say not click and copy paste
you ready? ok go
umm
every true smoker knows that a cigarette is but a natural extension of your arm.
umm. every no i said that the next line—it was a joke poem—every
umm
with amber ashes
the ridges on your fingers
like a ballerina curling gracefully through your skin
and the package
faggedabodid: it's wholly you
marlboro black
for when you take a good shit.
got no feedback
they're too busy posting their shit
feedback? what a bullshit cop-out
i even get angry at people for posting photos of themselves on their pages
why aren't you posting photos of me!
even strangers, especially strangers.
i bettet delete this girl
she posts too many links about shit not about me, news stories political ones not about me
her activity keeps me from viewing my postings a few moments longer
better delete this guy too
...he doesn't look like me
hey-yooooo!
johnny carson
i smoke marlboro black now
because i thought they had made it in honor of me.
i really did, no joke.
like a limited time edition in hollywood
i was high
im a better psychologist
than people trying to pyschologise me
im better than all my friends
thats why they ignore me
i have no friends
they resent me cause im such a kickass writer
that's why they don't read any of em
they're too busy working
why the fuck would i take any interest in their shit?
im too busy writing
if i ever get any recognition
ill have a stroke
a stroke from cockiness
outside ill be humble, probably even crying, and ill prolly mean it
but inside ill have a stroke
i'll explode
they all want to steal my poems
that's why they're ignoring me
they're all secretly conspiring
they do huddles like football players
oh right, throwball
they're going to sneak into my room and steal my trousers
and give it to her husband
my grandpa used to say that about his in-laws when he went senile and cuckoo
How is relapse built? Sleepless fuckin nights. The mind won't shut off, and worn down it becomes susceptible much like the body to a cold. A quick impulse, craving, don't forget the em dash, the sensations of a memory seep in, and what is merely familiar becomes romantic. The kind of romance that'll eat love, if they are apart too long. A cigarette. They say read the big book, it'll put you right to sleep. You know how I feel about reading. You want to eat mechanically; you've dried out all the food groups, sugar even
i get a high from every single post I make
this is not a wasteland
i love you
this is a wilderness
Three strikes and you're out, Rocky.
How you guys came up with "playtime," I'm in awe. Absolute lifesaver. Thank you. Thanks for the other night too, lighting up Hollywood with those colors and such. I wish I could have taken pictures.
He's not a movie star, Now he has to go deal with mom and dad.
You got me again.
This library. Not Jack in the Box. Not the colors, not the actors.
I'm your actor. My nature works to perfection with your—This guy scratched his dick then licked his finger, then he scratched his thigh and the guy next to him stared at him. When it was another man's turn to use the computer, he let me go ahead of him. One guy was trying to type up his lyrics. One man looked up head lice. Headbands and dreadlocks. This is reality, not black guys praising me. This library is beautiful on the outside. The inside people have to work for it.
I'm a tourist The only sovineur I deserve is the In Touch.
At least I got to feel what it would be like.
I'm still sychzophrenic. And you guys didn't hurt my feelings. Don't show any footage of me dancing on my blog. That was really cool. Best night of my life.
Nothing's going my way today. All my jokes are miss. A girl's friend and coworker was recently fired, and I said what happened, fight over the same guy? And they had. I tried to hit on a woman so I sat myself down at her table and asked her how are you? I didn't know what direction to take my pitch so I asked her how are you three more times and she asked me if I was retarded. I spotted a little kid at a nearby table staring at me so I made a movement with my head and body like I was about to sock him. Just then another woman walked past and I turned my head and told her I love you and she didn't even say I love you back. then the original woman called security on me. She was gelus, and I said, You old dog, you still got it.
these diet sodas will be the death of me
Ah, the Motel, where it all began. Right across the street from the mental health center. Oh, the dangers of romanticizing, of standing outside the building, where they told me my best option was to kill myself. It was so wonderful. I missed them. I love it when they make fun of me; I start blushing. It's hard to say goodbye, and I don't want to be ungrateful, but will my memory say bye-bye? It had probably been in the works for some time—I thought I heard some people speaking code outside another motel some weeks earlier—but I didn't catch it. A helicopter had been following me around for a couple days. They only come out after awhile. Probably when they think I'm about to start dying. So I'm supposed to worry about living healthy but I'm more concerned about looking good. My resentments—arguing with others in my mind based on what I think they think of me—are starting to rear their spiteful head. Does that sound right? How can something rear its ugly head? Maybe it means I'm thinking ass backwards right now. Well of course I would be! I can't be thinking ass frontwards now, can I? Wanker.
Feels like a LOTR Trilogy day.
...Nevermind. Owe the library ten bucks. I'm not going to pay ten bucks to see a movie. Lots of eggs would be on my face. Besides, late fees are unconstitutional.
- But if you pay the amount owed, you can continue renting a plethora of great selections.
- I've had it with your nonsensical ravings and whimiscal flights of fancy. What the hell's a plethora?
- An armful of DVDs, for free. Imagine that.
- Explain yourself!
- If you pay the amount owed—
- But I don't want to.
- ...you can rent as many DVDs as you can fit in your bag
- And I suppose I have to pay for the bag? You cunt.
- Please don't call me that. You can rent as many DVDs as you can fit in your hands.
- A man's hands, you can bet.
- In your hands or handsome burly arms.
- Well why didn't you just out and come with it, toiling around the edges like a fairy on a sailboat. What the hell's a plethora?
- It is something you can hold in your arms.
- Well, then why didn't you come out with it? You ought to blow me when I feel like it.
- I tried to explain it to you.
- I ought to put the bag over your head and choke you while I—Come on, let's go to your bank account.
- I don't have but ten dollars, I'm sorry. I do the best I can with—
- That's okay you have more than I need. And you can make up for the rest by...ah, jeez, he off and went and killed himself. The cunt fairy. I ought to put the bag over his head and real quick before the cops come...ah...ah...ek!...oh! Egg on his face, cunt bitch.
- I'm back.
- Huh, what?
- Grabbed a tuna sandwich from the donut shop round the corner. $3.75 on wheat. Can't beat it.
- I thought you off and went and snuffed it?
- Doesn't sound like me.
- Then who's this?!
- Oh, that's just your imagination. Turns out, I was just hungry.
- Egg on my face!
- I'm laughing: ha ha ha ha! Asians make the best sandwiches. Everybody knows that. Everybody.
- I understand and follow you clearly.
- I told that guy no mayo. That sandwich tasted too good for No Mayo.
- Do you want me to go get my bag?
- Yea, we got some choking to do.
- Should we hold hands?
- Not while we're choking him.
- Right, then he might not take us so seriously.
- Yea, we don't want him laughing at us while we try to kill him. Very undermining.
- Who wants to die laughing?
tired, hungry, angry, irritable
Hungry, Angry, Lonely, Tired...I was way off!
When he hurt my feelings, I kicked him out of my house. He laughed, but I was insistent, so he walked out and I shut the door on him. I looked out through the window by the door—he was smiling uncomfortably. When he caught me staring at him, I shut my blinds. But then it was dark in the room, so I opened the blinds, and looked out at him again.
One time, I saw a homeless man with a sign that simply read, "I need to eat."
I got angry or hurt when a friend said today that homelessness is simply an issue of will power. Maybe it is, I don't know.
There was a young man yesterday, with a sign that said, "Navy Vet. Trying to get back home to Chicago." A part of me thought, that's pretty clever.
My heart's broken and mended
14, 15, 36 times a day.
I don't get how I can be so blue
about my existence but laugh so often.
I don't get how I can be so sociable
with strangers but so anti-social.
I should prolly shave.
I don't do the scruffy look anymore
Someone told me women really go after burly men,
that who wants someone who is prettier than she is,
and if that's the case, then the theory holds that she has lesbian tendencies.
On Thursdays, you get three chicken tacos for $2.29
It's that time again—yea that's right, Del Taco time. Where the rich get richer, and the lonely, lonlier. I want to say something nice to the drive-thru girl. For example, did you know you can start a sentence with, "For example." Ah, don't listen to him; the question mark is up his ass. Last time, I heard a cheerful voice on the intercom, then when I tried to bargain with unrealistic goals, the sweet tone of her voice didn't change. So obviously she saw me on the camera, and she wants me to hit on her, and I'm taken, but I didn't want to ruin her night. So when I pulled up, I gave her a moment to soak me in, in the flesh. I tried to gaze a little beyond her, like I was searching for a star, and I hit her with, "You sound too happy, you must not have been working here long." I realized what I had said as she got depressed filling up my diet coke, so I asked her if she was new to this country. She smiled, and said, "9 years."
I decided it was best not to open my mouth any further, but I didn't know which one was hotter, Inferno or Scorcher? One of them was too hot.
This fuckin guy, he makes no effort to reciprocate. I walked by his booth a few times and sighed. He didn't nod, not even a few sympathetic smiles. I mean, who the hell does he think he is? He adds no jokes of his own to the environment—I can't even tell what article he's reading. I better stick around and see what kind of tip he leaves.
My tipping method is polished. Just as I'm stiffing the waitress, I ask her if that's a good amount. What's she gonna say? No? I'll call the manager and get her ass fired. Then I'll ask for some comps.
I'm in Nevada. No big deal. She's not the only one who sees places. That's what I do, you know? I do what I do. I'm tired. All I can do is what I do. I'm in front of an IHOP, trying to pysch myself up to go in and order a breakfest with Banana Pudding pancakes I saw in a commercial the other day. If I psych myself up, I won't feel so guilty afterwards. I'm not really hungry. I had three oatmeal cranberry cookies bout half an hour ago. I had a good excercise session today; I did 8 activities, legs, back, you name it. Then I blow it all in the midnight hours, I cry more more more. I get depressed when I can't sleep. And I often can't sleep these days...except in the afternoons. I usually get up around 4pm. Today I woke up near brunch time, and I still couldn't sleep. So I drove to Nevada. I get pretty depressed when I'm not eating. The worst is when I'm near finished eating. I wonder what she's doing. I do good when I stick to my diet. My dreams haven't been nearly as pleasant recently. I get depressed when she gives me bad news in dreams. So what? Don't look at me like that; lots of people have recurring characters in their dreams. In the afternoons I sleep like a log. I get pretty depressed having to think about working out. I'll torture myself for a couple hours, or try to keep sleeping, before I get up and pysch myself up. It's all about the pysch. I wonder if she's married. I think she might be an English professor. But the people on my phone who communicated this to me while they were watching my face in action may have been purposefully misleading me, disseminating misinformation, as it were. They showed me a picture of a baby that looked like her and some blond guy, the villain. Then they showed an unflattering picture of what my baby would look like, with missing teeth. Maybe she works for the CIA. Maybe she's a movie director. The CIA's always trying to take me down. The thing is though, what I've learned, at least thus far, I've never been able to correctly spell breakfest. I read Aliens for Breakfest, and yet, I still can't spell the word to save my pancake—
Cuanto Questa, bien bien me gusto! Mi hermana es mi hermana para es un ella yo la kitchina pero muy estupida donde junk like this
Check it out, Easter!
Bought this sweater for my sister at a garage sale today. 5 dollars? No problem; I have it. Let's be honest here, it's a car-hole. I might keep it if my belly doesn't show.
Will have mom send it. We're not talking. She's stupid. "Your brother sent you this sweater. He knows how fond you are of other peoples' garbage."
Cute dog not included.
- We have time for a burning desire. Would anyone like to share? Go ahead.
- Yea, they're not messing around when they say, "Party Bag." Even when everyone around you leaves you, you're on the kitchen floor in your underwear, with the bag between your legs. One night I went out to buy more milk. I had the route memorized. But for some odd reason, at the last intersection, instead of making a right, I made a left, and that's how I ended up here. It was the best decision I ever made. Thank you.
I had a similar experience with my cocoa demon, as I Iiked to call her. My preference was the darker stuff. It got to the point where I was forging documents and writing fake articles about recent studies finding chocolate to be beneficial for canine vision. We had a blind dog. I'd insert the leaflets into Veterinary Research Magazine, and leave them on the coffee table for my wife to read. I'd do it routinely, hoping to find some more chocolate in the cupboards. I didn't have time to feel what a coward I was; I was too busy trying to savor it.
Once I got that first chocolate in me, you know, a benign mini Kat-Kat, it's only 20 calories, you figure, and half the size of a single finger—that's what I used to call them. And—you've been working hard all day, you know... "Four fingers, I need," I used to say to my guy over the phone, so people didn't know what I was up to. But once you get that first chocolate in you, I mean, you deserve one, you've had a—Anyway, after the first Kit Kat, you gotta get the milk, of course...and my daughter she had just become a vegan or a hipster, I don't know, but I'd be scrambling between the soy and almondmilk and my own lowfat milk... You're so busy that you forget what it even tasted like, what it really means to savor it, and you find any reason to—cause now you got the cup of milk, you know...I don't know, I'm just grateful there's a place I can go to every night. Thank you.
Wait till I get to the G's
I'm getting all edgy but I'm not a rockstar, just a sensitive soul. God help anyone who—I'll kill em all. Nobody likes me. All mass murderers were on anti-pyscotics. I have a reason to. Nobody likes me. First I'll start with the A's. I'll kill everybody in Australia. Then I'll take a plane—obviously the flight and the pilot are from like Singapore or something, cause I've killed everybody in Australia by now—and before the authoritites from Interpol—cause I've killed all Australian officials by now—realize that I've killed every body in Australia, I'll have killed off all Albanians, and all Alfanians, then in Armenia, I'll bribe someone to let me in—cause I've taken a lot of loot from Albania—then I'll kill him, his brothers, and aunts and uncles too. Then all his close friends waiting for him in the heart of the city I'll kill and the other two friends that are lagging I'll kill them too. I'll kill the girl he's going to meet at the cafe by the park. I'll kill her too. Then I'll fly to Argentina. I'll kill Diego Forlan and the richest Armenian in Argentina I'll kill too after I kill the Belizeian pilot, I'll kill that bastard too. Obviously he wasn't Armenian or Argentine.
mr. weiner
i found my nail clippers. It's a tool for your nails, your hands, your toes. I wore my nice socks in case someone walked in and wanted to compliment me on my socks. You can really feel the difference when you pull the material onto your feet. I try not to look aggressive or unapprochable, but it's hard for me to smile and i was worried my fangs might rip into the socks. i came home and took off my socks and placed them back in the drawer with their friends.
tomorrow i think i'll clip my toe nails and go back to del taco. i'll be more comfortable, and i can stay longer. the girl who works there is heavyset and very standoffish. I often feel like i should verbally abuse her but when i look into her eyes and at her lips i wonder if she is depressed, and then sometimes i look at her and i want to tell her she's lazy. This time i go i think i'll wear shorts and ask her what she thinks of my socks. She doesn't seem very talkative. I want to figure out if she's insecure about her weight or if she's secure but still very curt.
23 catch tacos please
get fat or feel better
either way, both roads are still going to lead me to the loneliest place on earth, del taco,
if anyone wants me ill be arguing with the workers
Fuck this shit, I'm not just going to lie in bed like a momo. I'm going to watch The Insider with Russell Crowe and Al Pacino, and smoke cigarettes till I fall asleep.
she churched off in jerk
it was a chicken jerk
i want to church the chicken
but eat the jerk
it was a chicken jerk
she was a jerk
i didn't know what she was thinking
she wanted to know what i was thinking
she wanted to know what i was thinking
she didn't give me a penny
so she sent me to church
where i couldn't jerk off
so i ate their chicken
then the old lady got mad
and kicked me out of their house
i told her if i had more money
i told her if i had more money
id go to church
i was still jerking off
and there was blood on my face
but she wasn't interested in my money
she's like that
we're both romantics me and her
we're both romantics me and her
she wanted to cut the head off the chicken
I told her I'd never eat a Big Mac again
but she did she did go with Ted
Ted's parents own the barn.
in my dream the building was about to explode or be flooded and we had to get out of the room and go down all the steps but we were lagging. we didn't know if we should use the elevator. I'll tell you what id rather be back in that building than here...like a momo!
What do you want?
or could it be What is it you want?
lost in translation, one's softer
she sent me to church, where I couldn't jerk off
I don't know what she was thinking.she thinks I'm broken, yes she does
I don't know what she was thinking.
I miss the days of good ol sweet milk. That's what black people call full flavor. I mean, they're not black, they're just Southern. These days you don't know if it's dairy free are you still lactose intolerant? The way I see it, line em all up and just mow them down, except the black people, they've had enough, yes they have. You want to say to the world, just take a breather, it's gluten free. At least that's how I see it.
...and then the fuckin cashew milk didn't taste any good. I was so excited I was because I thought it'd taste better than almond milk, but it didn't, no it didn't. And you'd think it would because cashews taste better than almonds, but depending on who you ask, that's what they would think, based on what they thought. I mean, who knows what people are likely to think, some people drive the same car for 20 years, maybe 30 who knows
Great Champions League final. To think I was going to not watch it cause I had so many nightmares after stoping my quack meds so abruptly. I had to take half of one in the middle of the night, then the other half in the morning to be able to stay asleep, but I snuck in some coconut macarons and mountain dew, and a cream cheese bagel. It was delicious. Everything is delicious. The cream cheese I did out of spite.
Eibar stays in La Liga top flight despite finishing in relegation zone, yes!
Due to Elche's tax debts, duh!
No more pills!
I think someone just called me a fag from the cars driving by. Now how the hell's he going to know what is my sexual orientation. The guy's obviously guessing. That's his pastime, guessing. Now look, aside from four days of moderate weight lifting this week, I've basically walked four miles a day for six days, and I'm just getting fatter. It's not so much that he's a quack, or that he didn't remember me, or that he even asked me what pills I wanted, but that the sonuvebitch prescribed me three meds, all of which are known to increase appetite. I've never gorged so much on sweets and felt great! Every night I eat a protein bar before bed to make me full, then I wake up two hours later and sleepeat four more. I went to a real doctor today, who said I didn't need any of them, and if I keep taking them, I'll end up a zombie when I'm 80. He was gay; I could tell. Not that there's anything wrong with that. But that sonuvebitch quack! What an affront to my vanity. I tried to tell the nurse, yo honey, my wallet's really heavy and she said she'd take off six pounds, but shit, man...
You know who has a problem with chocolate? My little brother. No, why are you nodding? I don't have a problem with chocolate—it's delicious. Why are you nodding? What the hell is wrong with you people? Look, it's just a Tootsie Roll. If I don't eat it, it's going to eat me. You guys are a bunch of freaks.
White chocolate—white chocolate kicked my ass for a long time. People would say, you know, hazelnuts, hazelnut creme, it's—it's all in that dang chocolate. I used to make 64 thousand dollars you know. By the end of the next year, all I had to my name was a torn blue blanket and two boxes of assorted Whitman's. When I asked my company to start paying me in gift baskets, they said I could no longer continue working unless I agreed to seek help.
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