still untitled

Have you ever had a dream that you thought was more real than reality? I've dreamt that I was a butterfly, soaring over lush fields, full of flowers and vibrance and life. When I woke up, I wasn't sure whether I was a person having beautiful dreams, or a butterfly having hideous nightmares.
I wished I was the butterfly.

Gettin' too old for this shit...

Goddammit.
I ain't got time for this shit.
Okay, let's be calm, be cool, be reasonable.
I am a fully-grown adult.
I am not going to let a car - no matter HOW new-fangled - beat me.
I've been programming for thirty years.
This is simpler.
Or at least it SHOULD BE.

Not based on a true story.

"Guess who!"
"... Nobody I know."
"AAH! Oh geez, I'm sorry I'm sorry! I thought you were someone else."
"Yeah I kinda figured."
"Wow, sorry... I mean, you look just like my girlfriend from behind-"
"Could you let go of my boobs now?"
"Aa, yeah, yeah sorry... wow... um..."
"It's not that big a deal. Don't freak out about it."
"Really? You're not upset? Oh thank-"
"It helps that my bear mace is at, like, the very bottom of my purse."
"... what"
"And if I thought you were dangerous-"
"Wellwouldyoulookatthetime. Nicetomeetyougottago."
"... Jerk."

Thirty essentials: Number six

Be crazy dumbsaint of the mind

And so it goes. There is no great genius without some touch of madness. Aristotle said that. And it works as a decent excuse for some of the things I do/write.
My latest piece, for instance. The story itself asserts that there's no real point to it. It doesn't have a plot. Oh sure it has characters, and it even has stuff happen, and some stuff even happens to said characters, but there's no buildup to anything and no real resolution. Well, currently, anyway. I'm probably going to leave it as it stands. Who knows. But, for the most part, it's just meandering babbling madness.
In this case, I'm trying to scare the reader shitless.
Usually though, madness is more fun. Sometime this week I plan on writing something funny, entertaining, or happy. Don't know how that'll work out.

But back to the crazy dumbsaint; I don't think an idea can work if you're not willing to regurgitate it from your unconscious mind pretty much as it comes. At least the first time around (you can edit that later / fix that in post). That means, no censorship, no explaining. My thoughts can usually be pretty incoherent, so there's generally some cleanup done between thought and page.
Oh, and rules are for jerks. Quote me on that.

rUn RuN rUn YoU sHoUlD rUn NoW oN oN rUn RuN oN

thoughts are tumulting over and over in my head and I'm wondering wondering where I am and how I'm going where I'm going what's going going on in my life at this moment and as I wonder wonder why why I'm here here here I think think hard to myself about every thing and what it all means and I come back and back and back to the same same same old thing it doesn't matter a bit a bit at all so why worry be happy don't worry be happy now I've yet to have a landlord make me pay my rent but all in all in all in due time I'll have to so there there baby there there we are failing that though I notice how fragmented the things I think I think think they sound so I pause and stop stop stop and wonder aimlessly skipping skipping skipping like a broke broke broken record which isn't fair it isn't fair it isn't fair I loop I loop I loop loop loop loop loop loop loop and a segfault happens and what is going on WHEREAS the state of what I think is my mind myghte be a tadd offtilt and WHEREAS I'm really retracing rudimentary ruminations and WHEREAS we find ourselves pondering ceaselessly over the nits and nats of overdrawn thought WE the people do find our way through another anyother an other day with our selves split in twain lying desperate broken on the sands do you see me can you hear me look at me look at me look at me look at me look at me look at me look at me look at me mommy mommy I'm hurt and I'm scared and I'm alone and I miss you come back come back don't say she's gone she's not not not why God why why why why why why why why and as I stitch up my mind my thoughts are found anew recentered and I feel I am whole once more but again I overlook the holes which become gashes which become completely disconnected chunks of my being can you smell me do you know what the rock is in fact cooking this evening are you prepared to chew ON MY FIST are you against the grain can we say die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE 011001000110100101100101 011001000110100101100101 011001000110100101100101 011001000110100101100101 011001000110100101100101 011001000110100101100101 011001000110100101100101 011001000110100101100101 011001000110100101100101 011001000110100101100101 011001000110100101100101 011001000110100101100101 011001000110100101100101 011001000110100101100101 011001000110100101100101 011001000110100101100101 011001000110100101100101 011001000110100101100101 011001000110100101100101 011001000110100101100101 010001000100100101000101 010001000100100101000101 010001000100100101000101 010001000100100101000101 010001000100100101000101 010001000100100101000101 010001000100100101000101 010001000100100101000101 010001000100100101000101 010001000100100101000101 010001000100100101000101 010001000100100101000101 010001000100100101000101 010001000100100101000101 010001000100100101000101 010001000100100101000101 010001000100100101000101 010001000100100101000101 010001000100100101000101 010001000100100101000101 it hurts you know like this I mean it really really really hurts give me a break okay please please let me let me let me let me just rest just just just rest a while okay okay WhY aRe YoU dOiNg ThIs To Me what is it what is it what is it you want you accursed ghost go go go away Away AWAY aWaY I say away leave me in my castle of solitude mulling over the wickedness I wrougt before I

Angel

The day the angel came down was a day Thomas would not soon forget.
Thomas didn't realize it was supposed to be an angel at first; he thought it was a meteorite coming down, bringing with it the end of everything beautiful. It rocketed down from the sky aflame, with a thundering, great rage that Thomas felt would be the last thing he saw.

Giraffe

The spooniest giraffe-thing (alien?) accosted me in my madness the other day. Its body was upsetting in its nondescript-ness; it was yellow and smooth. Its 'eyes' were held above its head(?) with stiff straight stalks. The lids(?) mostly transparent, I could see lights beneath the smoothened surface flitter about as they looked in independent directions.
As it spoke, a small, motionless cartoon grin would appear where I thought its nose should go. Its voice was high-pitched and booming; the single sentence it said to me reverberated through my skull for hours after.
GO TO SLEEP, JACKASS

The tale of one man's epic yet ultimately futile journey to discover the true meaning of friendship vis a vis a hilarious series of events that wind up with him in Vegas with a monkey sitting on him in the trunk of an old Camaro which causes him to reevaluate his life and ultimately teaches him a valuable life lesson.

Wait... shit.

On the Importance of Punctuation

It's time to eat grandma

意味がない

It's hard to write stories based around a single sentence when your unconscious mind keeps throwing up sentences like "And that's what made me the most popular girl in the burn ward."

I'm just saying, is all.