Apricots.

I could write you the fiction you want to read. I could. But I'll use some words wrong. Like, "He feigned indignity in the dark peninsula moon-gorge. Life was hard. Spacial relativity came easily to Ursula, who despite the body of a chicken, had the soul of a 13th century heretic, unwashed and unserved. Also, her body of a chicken was a metaphor for falling in love with a pretty girl who's name might be you." It's a choose your own adventure.

Baby, I hope you like apricots,
Because theses apricots are terrible.
You'd really have to like apricots to like these ones.

Binary.

Stopping is for people who aren't going.
Inversion statements are for people who stick out.
Sticking out is for people who stay in.
In is for out.
For is is for.
Is si.
i. .i

Charact.

Why I'm every character.
Maybe I've put myself into these creations.
Maybe we (I) fictionalize ourselves (myself).
So, I've been reading a social construction of grammar book recently:

So, I can be an agent.
I coined "agentive" in a paper in college.
You're supposed to use that word to describe grammar only,
And now, years later,
I find that my life is the intersection of grammar and
Self.

Agentive.

So I can be an agent.

I guess I'm agentive.
But I'm every character too.
I'm reading Stop Paying Attention.
I'm this character,
And it's the first girl
I've mapped myself onto.
Maybe that's why I'm such a good reader.

Am I me,
Am I an amalgamation
Amalgamated Works of Self Construction, INC.

There's a list of characters I think I am:
I am Fry, from Futurama.
We have the same hair cut.
It's obvious really.
But it's the singularity of characters that make me relate.

Isolated individuals
Which, probably everybody feels like.
I don't care,
This is about me.

But it's about
Leopold Bloom.

It's Yorick Brown.
It's the angry young man.
It's the band Dire Straits.
It's Tin Tin.
It's a picture of younger me.
It's every Hemingway lead male character.
It's the lost generation.
It's those authors.
It's Lupid the 3rd.
It's
It's
It's
It's

Flip.

Why I like 45s.
Why? I like 45s.

7 inches of vinyl or something like vinyl.

Why, I like 7 inches or so.

Soviet Blow Back.

Billy Joel n' the USSR,
You don't know how ____ you are.

Italiz

Fueled by coffee.
Ignored in my professional field.
Up late hours,
Toiling.
My practiced skills getting duller,
My useless wit getting sharper.
Ye, gods!
I know what I've become:
The accidental artist.
Esoteris Polemicist.
I've been called pretentious,
Conceded,
Entitled.
It's not that.
You're wrong!
But that's what you'd expect those traits to refute.

You don't know me!
It might be expected that, I would yell it.
But I won't hide my thoughts or feelings.

I'm not pretentious:
I'm angry.
I'm frustrated.
I'm growing more oblique.
I'm not lashing out,
I'm lashing, wildly,
Undirected.

Caravan

Narratives are overwritten.
It's like the written word is just a waste of time.

Listen to me with your eyes.

Don't people get arrested for that?

It's like how a song that doesn't have words is better because I can't tell you how it goes,
And I don't want to anyway.
It's my fucking song and I don't care if you connect to it.

Caravan.

Please, make way: Your Paragon Awaits.

I read this thing somewhere once, non-specific
About how,
Writing a blog, even if no one reads it
Can help a brother out,
You know.

But then,
I guess what it didn't take into consideration
Was when people read it
And oversharing
Becomes anathema
To privacy.

Is that how you use that word?
It's how I used it.
Also, I don't care how you use it.
I'm a specific kind of lazy (It might be arrogant.)

I've been thinking recently about
My oblique.

It's like, an oblique.
Sounds like a greek or roman thing.
Maybe it symbolizes something.
Maybe it used to be a statue.
I don't really care.
The metaphor works for me.
That's kind of why I write this, then.

It's a sharp decline, and this ones mine.
I brought waxed paper,
And we're all a little to old,
So when the dip comes,
You're going to feel it,
And the rides going to be over
Faster than expected.

I'm still afraid of heights,
So that's why I want to be
Down in the muck.

Me first!

I've had people say to me,
"Well, see I've been in a relationship with someone for most of my life; At least you know who you are stand-alone."
At least I know who I am.
But now I've come to a point where I think about who I am,
And how it's like that episode of something redacted comes this way,
And how you, and almost anyone outside of extreme nerdballs wouldn't understand the dumb reference,
anyway.

It's not that I'm a nerd, I am of course a nerd, but it's not that, and it's not that I'm not more than a nerd as well.

It's that I'm really good at watching TV.

Someone, probably my parents, made some sidelong remark about having kids:
"We'll see, when you have kids blah blah blah, can't blah blah, must buy furniture then."
So, then I was thinking, I might have kids, I might get married, I might be different;
But it won't be me who does those things, it'll be a different me.

If I met that me-when, we'd be a good deal different.
Would it be like when I used to read the things I wrote,
And cringe?

Or would the me-today, look on and cringe.
No compromise in defense of myself.
Or is it
Adapt to survive.

Ibu.

I think I heard somewhere,
That the Iron Maiden wasn't actually a torture device;
Something Manufactured by
con-artists,
sideshows,
and Hollywood.

But one of the most
ingenious torture devices
has to be,
the Knee.

Tricked!

I saw I guy tuck a glass into his extra shirt and leave the bar. So, I grabbed a water glass and said, "I'll be right back, I have to get a glass back." Then I jogged across the street to the guy and said, "Hey, man. Want a free glass? To go with the one you have?" and he says, "What? Yeah." So, he shows me the glass he stole, and I go "Thanks!" And grab that glass, and jog back to the bar. I am a winner!