B=R=E=A=T=H+E

I hate the word "breath."
I mean, it fucking sucks.
It may be the worst word in
the world. If I can see anything
I can't see anything. I hate the
word "line." What kind of words
do you hate?
I'll have a headache tomorrow
from all these breathy lines.
If I wanted to talk about
words, well, I wouldn't
talk about them...I wouldn't
talk about it. I would talk
about all the food that sings to me!
I would talk about hating.
I spend most of my time
hating, or just angry.

Are you ever happy? No.
Nothing is worse than breathing.
I think about helicopters today
and how they fuck you up.
If I have to ride the bus
one more fucking time I'm
gonna freak the fuck out.
You are just funny, and you never
say anything important, but you
feel important. Where did all
these fucking trees come from?

Movies are made to be fucked.
Yes, I know what you're thinking,
doggy-style or enchilada-style.
My answer: Both. That's right.
Tempeh, harder! Cat toes, cat
toes, cat toes, cat toes! My cat had
no toe, and he would tell me on
his way out the door "I think you
have a mental illness, but I am
your angel, so don't stress."
1883 was a long fucking time ago, dude.
Shit has changed.
Your world is a kind of
uninteresting darkness, but
I wish for you to be here right now!

Do you look shit up, or
do you just think of it?
Neither, our lord god plants
things in my cokes and I drink
it and there you go, you have an
idea. Let's lie down for awhile.
Music makes you feel things, and
poop. A feeling, still!

I was stressing. BIG TIME.
But I'm like a sandcastle, so
don't fuck it up by peeing on me
or some shit like that. YOU'RE SO
FUNNY! I don't need anything
cuz I'm just spinning tunes and
it's easy now. Things should be
funny and sad all the time, everything.
Peace, fucker.

Neither

I like all the bears, but what do
I deserve? I want to make you so
fucking mad that you hate me.
Really hate me. Did your mom
die? Basically, I just ask a series
of questions...that's how it goes.

I had dreams where you
were fun. You had a lot of
hair on your back, and I
got grossed out. I'm STILL
grossed out. Do you like my
tank top? Stop that!
Cats have claws!

Funny doesn't matter
interesting doesn't matter
caring doesn't matter
doing things doesn't matter
asking does not matter.
I thought "I will escape
to a coal mine to forget you."
It all sort of feels the same,
though. It doesn't matter
where you go.

I'm still not like that, now.
I look at a picture to tell
me. Then I feel based on
whatever it tells me. I will
describe an image, and then
you can tell me how it feels.
Men wearing hardhats in the
rain are walking through a
crowd in Asia. Now, tell me
you don't feel that!

Everywhere I go there is
a huge black cross on a neon
pink board. It's like the orbs
from the sun. That sounds so stupid!
Why don't they just say what
it is? I don't believe in serial killers,
and I don't believe in drugs, and I
don't believe in whistling. That
is not parallel.

I skip out all the time to
prostitute myself. It's chill,
babies. That girl was wearing
a weird fish. She isn't interesting.
She isn't very funny. Her face is, like,
all lopsided.

The good news--I know you were
worried--is that there is so much
to write about! And the banks of
Switzerland have set up a fund
to take care of you.

There was, however, a small fire
in space. We got it. The basket maker
made a yellow line in my memory,
and made me a video tape of our
first love making. Oh, protect me
like you do! I guess...uhhh. a soft
uhhh.

Let's never come back!
Let's forget all the terrible
things they did, as long as it's slow
and demeaning and so
drawn out, I can handle anything.
Remember the dog we saw?
Well, I put him in a movie.
He's the goddamn star.

Sorry.

This post is just to say "sorry." I have neglected this blog for over half of February, and friends, that just isn't right. So, I'm gonna post some stuff really soon. I promise. And I'm almost positive it will be "relevant" to our class.