Nevermore, today


FOR SO MANY REASONS, UNFORESEEN AND PLANNED/CHECKD OFF/COMPLETED
AND THINGS LIKE THROWING THE BALL FOR THE DOG WHO IS NOT MINE BUT THAT MAKES HER HAPPY SO IT MAKES ME HAPPY
THAT’S OKAY RIGHT NOW
BLITHERING IDIOT THAT I MAY BECOME
THAT’S OKAY

BECAUSE
this was the story

Always be nice to your sanitation engineers and workers, they are very important in disease control. Plus they know where the bodies are buried sometimes and why not be on good terms with that kind of Intel?

  • I’m proud because I produced a garbage pick-up out of cataclysmic disaster, waking up to as a bear, since the sudden cooling in temperatures in this desert has left me groggy and dream-inducing lucid visions of sugar plums and usually ends up surfing or dealing with tidal wave in some form.
  • Lately it’s been more matrix of job I can’t quite get out of but can’t quite do – yet as it occurs on the fringe of consciousness (like creme brûlée of reverie), crumbles off as wakefulness abides.
  • I’m in a room like Brazil or Gateca or X-Files only we’re in charcoal grey suits asking the questions of terrified or defiant fleshtones in pinks yellows or blue indigo to warn us they are actors meaning they play people having emotions and we are after all humans stuck in between dimensions assigned to our greatest skill, 2×2.
  • Ours happen to be interviewing and getting the truth but not by pain except the bloodletting phase which for gods sake is only virtual – our first collaboration – when I,prisoner came out and we met thru the mixed-sex bars.
  • He was a graphic novel illustrator who could draw my dreams and that alone was reasons to submit the request to run the prison library which I did with his brogues Borgues posters advertising the good of my infinite mind so pretty soon we had a cult of jailers, reformed zealots, yard bosses and lost souls. The sociopaths sent tea cosies. No one could deny the efficacy of our ability to tap into your dreams and show you how to succumb not to evil but to let the dark embrace the light, the light shroud the night with hope the nihilists hate to say because it sounds so gushy but no other word conveys so simply the possible and Improbable.

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