Another visit from our favourite televangelist, Pastor Kenneth Copeland, today he is sitting in the garden jumping out of his wicker chair. "There is what i call generated hunger, you may not be hungry, but there is such a thing as commitment without obedience, you cant please Jesus without commitment, God has taught us how to do this disconnected from the world, we had to use our patience, we had to generate our hunger for it, but i didnt have the consistency about me like i have now, because i wasn't hungry. I am very disappointed, ive known christians out there who still dont get it, on our own staff who just dont get it.." Mr. Copeland, Pastor Copeland rather, i do believe it is because you dont make any fucking sense, Generated hunger? this guy is fucking high, he hasnt lowered his arms below his head for at least 3 minutes, waving around, hes now talking about what he cant do, what he can do, what he can spoon feed us. I am broken by this man, his energy is amazing, i do believe he moves frantically for thirty minutes straight, also breaks out in almost violent bursts of laughter, at things he only he understands, not because he has this profound closeness with the almighty father, but because we are tuned out, distracted by his overzealous hand gestures and strong southern accent.

She'll stick herself with a needle and cover it up with a loony toons band-aid. I wonder how many people in prison drop the soap out of pure fear of dropping the soap. When you think about something too much it tends to come back and get you in the ass...poor choice of words. I've been feeling destructive lately, i kind of want to get arrested, for something stupid and with little consequence. I saw someone urinating on a street corner once. I urinated in the middle of the street once. but it was a residental street so it doesnt really count. the chinese woman in the minivan looked upset. I like problems with simple solutions, it bothers me when the effort outweighs the significance of the results, kind of like voting. I'll be able to vote soon, but maybe i wont in case i want to ever want to get into organized crime. Someone punched me in the face once and i walked away, i take pride in self restraint because my initial inclinations are usually wrong. I tend to do the opposite of what i want. Everyone should be on a seven second delay. I'm afraid of my closet and mixed meats. I prefer to eat my animals one at a time. I sometimes eat those half moon cakes with the cream filling, they're like twinkies but in natural satellite form. They're kind of gross but it makes me happy. I wish to make an addition, some people shouldn't be able to speak. that would be good. Haim. Sometimes i'm afraid people can see me through my window. Just in case, i moon them on occasion. i doubt they'll ever look back after that. unless they're sick, which they probably are for looking at my windows in the first place. At least i put on a good show. Once a womans panties were thrown at my window. they had a note safety pinned to them "Call me. Love, Laverne." I later found out she was a middle aged black woman with a lazy eye. We now exchange letters monthly, though i find it hard to disclose the personal details i would like. I feel the attendants at the penatentary will laugh at me. My life consists of places i want to go, things i want to buy, sources of income i want to avoid, and naps i want to take, i need to prioritize, now i dont have much time so i think i'll keep it in the above order, except for the naps i want to take part, that can just move to the begining. My shelf is stuffed with books elbowing eachother for space, this has caused my shelf to sag, words are heavy. aplomb. Im also afraid of getting stuck in a turnstile. The onces in the subway station look particularly vicious. i wish i could melt and seep under things, like doorways and such, it would allow me to relax my very tired arms. they never get a rest they're always doing something even when im doing nothing, that may not be normal. Why are children always dirty or sticky or smell like something weird. It freaks me out, its like they aren't people. They're just crazy little things that will eventually be people. They are caterpillars, ugly little deformed things and eventually evolve into something somewhat significant, some become beautiful and float around while others become moths and fly into light bulbs. I think i'm the latter. you probably are too. I really need to sleep now, i should've 3 hours ago, or more. but im dumb. goodnight you person there.

fucking our way towards the end of days.

Sooo hello there. I'm back. I suppose that means it is crisis time. I know, it has been a while. Which is nice. I've got a secret or two. shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!

Django! Ain't that plucky! I was content being my little folded piece of paper. In fact I was content ignoring all responsibility. But then I get these baffled looks from people, mostly from the ones in the mirror, questioning what the hell I'm doing. Take your eyes off me dammit, its a hard enough time keeping my head together. I never thought I was this weak. I just wish things would fucking slow the hell down. I'm kind of in a state grieving for my now expired youth. I mean, we're still stupid, but we're stupid with consequences, and thats trouble. It just flies on fucking by. I am fairly certain by now my life is going to go to waste before I figure things out. Maybe I spend too much there though, figuring things out. Learn by doing right? I wish I wouldn't allow myself to be like this. There are no reasons for this either, I'm not more affected than other people, I'm not sick, I've got no excuses. I'm completely average, in every possible way. I can just barely discern the tree branch silhouettes from their bluening backdrop just outside my window. Don't worry, I make up words all the time. Its simply now or never. I know you're back but I still miss you like hell. I think I'll walk to you today. First I'll just wait 'til you wake up. But I am exhausted. All the time. Sometimes I wish I'd get a brain tumor, thats not a joke. I guess I'm kind of playing with the box of matches marked with the "be careful what you wish for" label but its true. I mean its usally a fleeting thought but you know, something operable, temporary. Maybe something that would cross a few wires up there and give me an Irish accent. But I don't think theres such thing as an easy fix. I had a dream yesterday with Screech in it. Poor kid. Its almost like my organs are rotting, like if they were to crack me open they'd just find a black stew, Mike Holmes would say "I can't believe this house hadn't caved in sooner to be honest" I waste so much time. Theres not much else I can really do but rott and I fear this is all showing through. It might be a confidence issue. I guess I probably don't get enough sunlight because now, as the sky is getting blue and silhouettes come to life, I'm ready to go to sleep and hope genius strikes me in a dream. Hey Jesus, what are this weeks lotto numbers? Its a joke, don't worry I won't ask you for anything, but if you're feeling charitable, well, you know lets stick with 649. I don't think its so much that I don't believe in you, its just, I figure your job was done the minute I grew my thumbs, so maybe I'll catch up with you when I'm dead. Though, I'm not 100% sure you deal with importing as well as the exporting, but if Seinfeld has taught me anything, its crazy to think someone can be involved with one but not the other... Wow, he went there? he must be desperate.

Theres probably more bitching to do,