Tuesday, October 2, 2012

2 minutes. Go.

The heat waves penetrate my brain and I can't maintain. Tried to write, but I can't write shit. Like a egotistical half-wit. Look at all them fancy people walking around like they don't know I know their underwear is soaking wet and shoved up their ass cracks. I know. And I will sit in front of the air-conditioner and wish the fucking thing worked. And the world will slowly turn as it is wont to do while I try to figure out something productive to occupy my time. Something that does not involve moving. Sorry gunslingers, too hot to touch metal today.

25 comments:

  1. The blood flow was starting to slow from the gaping wound in my face. The pain had subsided to a dull throb, and I could almost focus my eyes again. I could feel the metal of the pliers in my hand. This would be the last time that pimple ever fucked with me.

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    1. Fucking A. Well in, G. If it comes back...dremel.

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  2. A week in the making and it's almost time. Cue the beat, feel the heat, pull up a chair and take a seat. The camera is running and our subject is cunning. Now he's in the spotlight and ready to shine. You ask for advice but his answers aren't nice. They say the truth will set you free, but if you can't handle the truth then Don't Ask JD.

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    1. KD, you rule my rhyming world! :))

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    2. Haha! Fucking awesome. RUSH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

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  3. Madness, it is, true madness, of condensing everything into two, two, the sum of two parts, east and west, north and south, yin and yang, how can I see but the sides of the same coin are false? How can I compare thee to a summer’s day when I can’t also have autumn and the spring? Is it the two halves I seek, or the greater sum of their parts that I desire? Nobody knows, not even God, no matter who your invisible man in the sky, nobody knows. Two. Two. I can’t even manage one and now dealing with both. Duplicity, it’s madness.

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  4. Stream of consciousness, does that work when you’re drunk? I don’t know but let’s give it a try. Louie said he was gonna visit tonight and we both know what that means, but he hasn’t showed up yet. Part of me is happy he’s not here, the biggest part. Another part is sad because he always brings something over. Last time he brought a skipping rope for the kids. And a six pack of Trojans for me. Damn.

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  5. They say you never forget your first time. I remember mine quite clearly. I almost cried. I sat there staring at the small, dripping, pinkish-red hole. Why oh why had I let it happen so quickly? The back of the man's head had disintegrated and his skull and brains decorated the wall behind as artistically as any Pollock Masterpiece. I was sad. It had happened too fast to enjoy. This time.

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    1. You really got to start writing more fiction, brother. Very nice.

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  6. Via Nikki Craig posted through me because of tech-no-lo-gy)

    My brain pounds raw in my chest thinking, feeling, seeing, knowing. Why?!? Hard to soft. Easy to impossible. Little voices demanding to be heard are easier to handle than my own. Heck...I welcome them. I want them. My own words become a shroud that should be a crown.
    Stop! Breath! Live!

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    1. Rocknroll lady. You mispelled Breathe though. ;)

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  7. The garden gate swings shut, swings shut. I'm in a motherfucking rut, fucking rut. Buried like old King Tut, King Tut. Gangling with my Cali strut. OK, all you pissant bitches in the world, I hereby challenge you to a duel. Thumb wrangling. To the death. Mitt Romney, I'll start with you. Or maybe I should end with you, be making my thumb all greasy. I'm a grown ass man, I don't need police to chase me. Maybe the Secret Service. I've always wondered what service they provide that has to be so damn secret. I'm thinking reacharounds.

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    1. Mader you rock it no matter how many minutes on the clock. Most excellent!

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    2. FINALLY! Someone left a comment on one of mine. ;) Thanks Jo. That last one is fucking epic.

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  8. Lacey sat in her sandbox at the end of the large expanse of garden and yard. She was pretty warm 'cause she’d put her sweater and her jacket on. She didn’t know the months yet but she knew it was fall and that leaves changed colour and outside it got colder. She also knew that sometimes it was better to be outside the house than inside, especially when Uncle Brian visited.

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  9. What went around came around; I hate that. I was just reading; now I am writing. Two minutes until the buzzer, time for a couple of plays. If I can hit my receiver on the sidelines; get a first down. Move the chains. Chains is hard. I don't like chains. I mean change of course. I have a pocketful as time runs out. Better spend it; times up.

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  10. I've been here before, but I can't remember when. The memory is just out of focus, like a soft voice in the whispering wind. Am I waiting for something, or for someone? I see a timer counting the minutes down, but there's no one else around. Is it for me? Should I stay or should I run? There are lights on the blinking console, and it has a big red button. What happens if I press this? OH SH...

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    1. I told you about the big red button! ;) Well in my friend.

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  11. Again, Nikki Craig via me:

    More is gushing. Share it, or not...but it's still coming. Standing inside this maze all in a haze. Bring back yesterdays! So full of truth, dreams & light. What if's were all there were...nothing was nothing.
    Now I wonder in a blur. Faster & faster those metal hands spin foretelling disaster, but I may still win...

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