written on october 12, 2004. mmm ancient

Mr. Duck Face
Don’t be fearful.

Red eyes and tears no more,
My dear.

Free Right.
Hello, my name is Allan. I am a caterer, and my ideal job is actually a bartender. Right now, I’m preparing fish portions and fried bananas. The water is allover me, it’s leaving beads on my oily torso, I struggle to wipe it off but my mind is focused. Soon I reach the pinnacle and remove the bottle cap. I start sipping cold numbing fluid I bought from that rusted-red Spanish shack, and I take my sizzling masterpiece out of the oven and dab a shard of Oregon sprig to make my mark. She never came to pick up her order.

Hello, my name is Sherry. My mother also thought to name me Victoria but it got lost along the way, like so many other umbrella smiles and purple-octopus-legends, sweetly mismatched (Nothin’ like a secret shack to brighten your day) socks and our Fender picks. A gross of situations concern me, especially Mondays; those are internal and nonexistent, but I must face them, those stern polished deadline boys, frontline shooters, get me while I’m already down. I got married to a cow last night; I don’t want my fish, much less a reception.
I cheated by shooting my female groom. I took her milk and rump and had a festival. You’re all meat to me. Don’t even talk.

ONION BLOSSOM
I’d like to fucking kidnap Wes Bentley.
Eat him. That’s no threat. Perverse.

DUQ
LE DEATH D’PIXIES.

OUG RED
DUQ RED.
(cute duck house. White silhouette.)
Paranormal apparatus
Separate! Serum. Sultry? 10 fucking MI sets of 60 she? Not like me. Is.
False pharmacies. Starving for desperation.
Unsightly. Unsightly book leaves of his pages pages pages
Lifestyle drugs. Drugs. Bolts
And
Wheels.
Wheels.

Hotel suicide
Room on fire
Glowworm scriptures
Honey-sweet marigolds
Clamber c climb aboard
Shimmery
Maiden why must you pout so!
Root canal to my heart
I digress. Digress digress talk here I want comparison pay close attention don’t listen to me for now george’ll be flying this 1
Young girl,
How to calc degrees
Go ahead, make sense of it
Semi-liberal/independent – atheist, practices the craft for lack of spirituality / will cling to it in my latter years as I begin to fear the end
Universe. Time doesn’t exist. I hate gravity too – but I can’t say that, I’ll look a replica
Think. Realized I’m ugly.
Prove it does it suit
Prove prove prove logic
Blind republic/”pagan”/”wiccan”, try one and try two guess they always come down, too
Other wise
Political beliefs
False political beliefs
Political
Politics
Stupid!
Flat line
False false
A whole circle of idiots
Ugly ugly ugly
Take her not me… please do something rash obliterate bell rings, Kenney!
Breńa
Breńa
Tears up. Flat line
Well
Why didn’t you tell me that in the first place?
Concoction of…
Syringe. Brena. Brena.
Stupid Ic fods
I can’t believe you let me walk away
No discussion in psychology
Bitter shunning/snubbing
Cleared hallway, sermons, idiocy
No tap on shoulder, snub, snub.
I suppose I look terrible
More than ever.
Away
You let me walk