When I tell the story I am cool as codfish and no one reacts sentimentally. It’s a tragic tale- father disowns daughter, takes entire extended family with him, turns them against her, leaves her to fend for her own. But the way I tell it, you don’t feel too bad, none of the parties become sympathetic. You forget the humanity of it and just hear the words like a telephone book being read aloud. And when I’m done we all take three beats and then go for pizza and a song. The past, the past, it’s all so forgettable, isn’t it? No one’s left who cares, yet still, we get bored so the tale gets told and then we carry on through the devaluing world.
I like Dominos pizza the most. I get the vegetable kind on account of I don’t eat animals because animals are basically humans, too. I mean, do you know what I mean? They feel and fear and get pain and sadness and happiness and they know more than some of you but yet they are defenseless. If you take advantage- like we’ve taken advantage for so long- so long- so long- so much advantage taken- so much rank pulled- we are HUMANS GODDAMN LOOK AT US HEAR US ROAR- well, I say, fuck off HUMANS! Fuck the fuck off! You’re nothing special to look at. You make me sick.
I saw it once. The killing of the pigs. They knew what was happening. They were afraid and it was OB-VI-OUS. They coward and tried to hide behind each other, crowding in the back corner as the gun-thing, killer-man approached and shot BANG BANG and as they watched their fellow pig-ones die they became more and more distressed. They vocalized this distress and tried and tried to hide and hide and BANG BANG BANG ‘till all were dead. My body went into shock. I convulsed. I cried. I moaned. I cursed the killing-man. I swung my fists, tried hitting him. I could not be comforted. It was a massacre and it happens several times a day all over and in every state. Precious baby animals being born into this world to be abused and used and made into super-duper processed chemically enhanced PRODUCTS. THESE ARE NOT PRODUCTS! They have hearts and minds! They hear, see, feel, beat and comprehend. And humans have abused their abilities to the most evil of extents. See: dollar signs.
And no one cares.
“Let’s eat,” they say. “Habit and I couldn’t because… inconvenience and taste and nutrition and-“ so much bullshit I can’t even re-spout it. But who cares right?
To HELL IN A HANDBASKET! The hurt of the world’s become too much to bare- we numb it all away- don’t dare to feel a single ounce.
Tomorrow they are coming over- into my house. The maintenance people- to insert a carbon monoxide detector. This gives me anxiety. I don’t want these people in my sacred space. My home. And my animals disrupted. What if they try to kill and eat them? Plus, I have erotic art on my walls. I could take it down- I wont. I will force them to see the giant penis. The cunt. I will force their eyes to be opened. I will cut them up and slice their civility until they realize civility is a useless cloth, a veil to keep us from reality- contain our humanity. Where is the humanity in our lives anymore? Show me some! There’s such deficiency. The whole race needs a giant vitamin.
I have this friend- this homeless friend- I can’t speak to anymore. I don’t want him to ask me for anything. I don’t want to feel obliged to give him anything. I can barely contain my own contents. I can’t hold his. I can’t be responsible. I turn my face the other way and close off my heart to him. I wait for him to shrivel or thrive. Shrivel or thrive. At the same time, my own existence rests on my own ability to shrivel or thrive. Shrivel or thrive. Which way will it go? For each it’s the gamble of the universe.
I can’t tell you about the loneliness I feel because it’s not active enough. A story’s got to be active, you know? Protagonist. Antagonist. Comic relief. Confidant. I must be all these things because I live inside of the loneliness of being just one person. One person alone. Well, expect for my animals. They are my safe keeping, they guard my soul. Though if I were to die of natural causes and they ran out of food, I would fully expect them to turn on me, but in that case it would be an act of love. On both accounts. Oh, the loneliness. I wish we could talk about it. I wish there were a way to say it. But there’s not. So, on we go- plowing through the fields of-
Glory! Have you felt GLORY before? What GLORY doth GLORY be? Where can it be found? Tell me? Is GLORY a part of my humanity? Or is it a heavenly manipulation intending, like capitalism, for ambitious structure?
How are your finances? In order? Mine… are not.
What does it feel like to be loved? To be pursued? To be so comforted on the regular? What’s it feel like coming home? What’s all this about the one? What’s the family like? What’s the feeling of being liked? Where’s the person I’m supposed to meet? What’s the deal with this thing called life? And why- most of all I ask you WHY all the GODDAMN LIES? Life is not a storybook! Movies are not life! Disney is not the end-all nook. News is wrong as the day is long. I cannot tell you anymore what I was expecting to find at the end of the rainbow- all has been forgotten in the wake of these endless and lonely, disappointing, adulthood tomorrows. All I can say is to the adults of the 80’s- YOU GOT IT WRONG. That was not the life I lived- the one I thought I was getting. It’s not real.
I told my dogs twice today and twice yesterday and twice I will tomorrow- they try eating things- not food- things- I shout- “NOT REAL!” They look at me. “NOT REAL!” I keep shouting it and it resonates within me on a deeper level. I get it. NOT REAL. NOTHING FEELS REAL- how could it? I spent a childhood expecting another reality and the one I’ve got's so much farther from the one I thought it’s impossible to reconcile them. I live alone.
You know?
Do you feel the beat of my words? The heart underneath? Do you see my invisible soul? Does such a thing exist? Do I now? Where and who are you? And what’s taken you so long to come? And will you leave me soon? And will I forever be alone? And do you feel the beat of my words? And do I have a heart? And am I worthy of your love? And will my efforts ever be enough? And will I always fall short the things I want most? And how many tomorrows shall I go on? And will the world ever improve? And why do people keep having children when there are already children here who have no people? Don’t they understand LONELINESS? GODDAMN.
Don’t be cool as codfish. Care. Feel. Bleed. Need. And do it better than anyone. We are not the BLASÉ FAIR generation, if we so chose not to become.
I like Dominos pizza the most. I get the vegetable kind on account of I don’t eat animals because animals are basically humans, too. I mean, do you know what I mean? They feel and fear and get pain and sadness and happiness and they know more than some of you but yet they are defenseless. If you take advantage- like we’ve taken advantage for so long- so long- so long- so much advantage taken- so much rank pulled- we are HUMANS GODDAMN LOOK AT US HEAR US ROAR- well, I say, fuck off HUMANS! Fuck the fuck off! You’re nothing special to look at. You make me sick.
I saw it once. The killing of the pigs. They knew what was happening. They were afraid and it was OB-VI-OUS. They coward and tried to hide behind each other, crowding in the back corner as the gun-thing, killer-man approached and shot BANG BANG and as they watched their fellow pig-ones die they became more and more distressed. They vocalized this distress and tried and tried to hide and hide and BANG BANG BANG ‘till all were dead. My body went into shock. I convulsed. I cried. I moaned. I cursed the killing-man. I swung my fists, tried hitting him. I could not be comforted. It was a massacre and it happens several times a day all over and in every state. Precious baby animals being born into this world to be abused and used and made into super-duper processed chemically enhanced PRODUCTS. THESE ARE NOT PRODUCTS! They have hearts and minds! They hear, see, feel, beat and comprehend. And humans have abused their abilities to the most evil of extents. See: dollar signs.
And no one cares.
“Let’s eat,” they say. “Habit and I couldn’t because… inconvenience and taste and nutrition and-“ so much bullshit I can’t even re-spout it. But who cares right?
To HELL IN A HANDBASKET! The hurt of the world’s become too much to bare- we numb it all away- don’t dare to feel a single ounce.
Tomorrow they are coming over- into my house. The maintenance people- to insert a carbon monoxide detector. This gives me anxiety. I don’t want these people in my sacred space. My home. And my animals disrupted. What if they try to kill and eat them? Plus, I have erotic art on my walls. I could take it down- I wont. I will force them to see the giant penis. The cunt. I will force their eyes to be opened. I will cut them up and slice their civility until they realize civility is a useless cloth, a veil to keep us from reality- contain our humanity. Where is the humanity in our lives anymore? Show me some! There’s such deficiency. The whole race needs a giant vitamin.
I have this friend- this homeless friend- I can’t speak to anymore. I don’t want him to ask me for anything. I don’t want to feel obliged to give him anything. I can barely contain my own contents. I can’t hold his. I can’t be responsible. I turn my face the other way and close off my heart to him. I wait for him to shrivel or thrive. Shrivel or thrive. At the same time, my own existence rests on my own ability to shrivel or thrive. Shrivel or thrive. Which way will it go? For each it’s the gamble of the universe.
I can’t tell you about the loneliness I feel because it’s not active enough. A story’s got to be active, you know? Protagonist. Antagonist. Comic relief. Confidant. I must be all these things because I live inside of the loneliness of being just one person. One person alone. Well, expect for my animals. They are my safe keeping, they guard my soul. Though if I were to die of natural causes and they ran out of food, I would fully expect them to turn on me, but in that case it would be an act of love. On both accounts. Oh, the loneliness. I wish we could talk about it. I wish there were a way to say it. But there’s not. So, on we go- plowing through the fields of-
Glory! Have you felt GLORY before? What GLORY doth GLORY be? Where can it be found? Tell me? Is GLORY a part of my humanity? Or is it a heavenly manipulation intending, like capitalism, for ambitious structure?
How are your finances? In order? Mine… are not.
What does it feel like to be loved? To be pursued? To be so comforted on the regular? What’s it feel like coming home? What’s all this about the one? What’s the family like? What’s the feeling of being liked? Where’s the person I’m supposed to meet? What’s the deal with this thing called life? And why- most of all I ask you WHY all the GODDAMN LIES? Life is not a storybook! Movies are not life! Disney is not the end-all nook. News is wrong as the day is long. I cannot tell you anymore what I was expecting to find at the end of the rainbow- all has been forgotten in the wake of these endless and lonely, disappointing, adulthood tomorrows. All I can say is to the adults of the 80’s- YOU GOT IT WRONG. That was not the life I lived- the one I thought I was getting. It’s not real.
I told my dogs twice today and twice yesterday and twice I will tomorrow- they try eating things- not food- things- I shout- “NOT REAL!” They look at me. “NOT REAL!” I keep shouting it and it resonates within me on a deeper level. I get it. NOT REAL. NOTHING FEELS REAL- how could it? I spent a childhood expecting another reality and the one I’ve got's so much farther from the one I thought it’s impossible to reconcile them. I live alone.
You know?
Do you feel the beat of my words? The heart underneath? Do you see my invisible soul? Does such a thing exist? Do I now? Where and who are you? And what’s taken you so long to come? And will you leave me soon? And will I forever be alone? And do you feel the beat of my words? And do I have a heart? And am I worthy of your love? And will my efforts ever be enough? And will I always fall short the things I want most? And how many tomorrows shall I go on? And will the world ever improve? And why do people keep having children when there are already children here who have no people? Don’t they understand LONELINESS? GODDAMN.
Don’t be cool as codfish. Care. Feel. Bleed. Need. And do it better than anyone. We are not the BLASÉ FAIR generation, if we so chose not to become.
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