(no subject)

Field report regarding the disappearance of
Agent Crane of the Secret Intelligence Service:
Agent Crane had been sent to the small settlement of Sleepy Hollow to investigate a number of disappearances that had been reported. We decided it was worth looking into after we became concerned that this may possibly be a terrorist act by an underground group. The locals were mostly farmers and not well educated or at least they did not appear to be. A single agent with Cranes experience should have been able to infiltrate such a poorly put together commune if in fact they were as they appeared; now we are well aware of the true nature of those involved. With the little Crane was able to send to us we do believe that some highly suspect activity has and is taking place in that small settlement.
Before arriving in the New World, Crane went through extensive training in order to blend in not only with appearance but with speech pattern as well. As a field agent he was given a cover story that he committed to memory and could recite on cue. Crane was also trained in several defense maneuvers, hand to hand combat, casual interrogation skills as well as carrying with him a standard issue dagger concealed in his right boot along with a small single-shot pistol concealed in his right breast pocket. Neither dagger nor single-shot pistol were recovered. Had we realized then what we now know we would have armed him to the teeth.
After meeting our contact just outside of Sleepy Hollow Agent Crane was given falsified documents along with a horse for transportation. A lodge house for the night in which Crane was brought up to speed with current theories and evidence concerning the disappearances. From there it was a days travel until Crane came upon the settlement.
Crane was greeted by one of the local land owners Baltus Von Tassel along with his daughter Katrina Von Tassel. Both father and daughter welcomed our man who introduced himself as Ichabod Crane a schoolmaster from Connecticut. The Von Tassel family were well known and respected by the other settlers, Crane believed this stemmed not from good character but from fear. Reviewing the intel from Agent Crane I believe that the Von Tassel's were the leaders of the settlement. Another name that cropped up in Cranes report was Abraham Van Brunt. A large man he was often close by the Von Tassel family like a watch dog. Crane was able to bribe information from a local who said that Van Brunt was to marry the young Katrina Von Tassel as a reward from her father for some "good deed". We are unsure of the exact number of members in this secret group but you can be certain that they are the majority of citizens in the town of Sleepy Hollow. High ranking officials such as judges, wealthy land owners and constables of all different ranks are certainly involved in Cranes disappearance as well as many other travelers going much further back than our intel could gather.
Using the tale of a Hussein soldier who lost his head due to a stray cannon ball during "some nameless war" the citizens of Sleepy Hollow feed upon the flesh of innocent travelers who happen to wander into town. Travelers would be treated to "The Legend of Sleepy Hollow" over a few pints of ale which may have even been slightly poisoned. The traveler would then wander away from the Von Tassel house and soon find themselves the next victim of this so called Headless Horseman. A simple story concocted by the town elders of Sleepy Hollow in order to cover up their evil and unholy tradition of cannibalism.


The room is lit with small artificial fixtures that extend down from the ceiling. This place is spotless to the point where I might even say it was sterile. My papers are in order and all the right lines have been signed and all the square boxes have been stamped. Her hands are warm and I know that this means she's excited. I'm not excited, I'm nervous. I used to get the two confused but I'm old enough to know the difference now and I'm fucking nervous. Rattled so bad I start to get a headache. This is not where I want or should be. This room is stuffy and scary and serious and that's what makes it scary is all the serious shit they do here and all the serious decisions they make you make here.
We were happy. I could wake up whenever I wanted and I let her sleep in as long she felt like. Fancy foods and date nights were at least once a month maybe twice a month, so why did it all go bad? Why did she have to pop the question when everything was going so well. A baby. A whole other person to take up our adult fun time. Her eyes were as bright as stars when she first brought it up. She asked me if I thought she would be a good mother. If she could cut it in the business of motherhood, what was I supposed to say to her? I love you but you could never be a mother, no that wouldn't have been fair. You would be a good mother. A great mother. One of the best. So I lied. We all do.
When she told me she had made special reservations for us I thought we were finally going to one of those upscale restaurants or something like that. I think I started to cry a little when she pulled up in front of the Procreation Registration Building. I knew what happened between those walls. I knew the tests and I knew the result of passing the test. A baby. You were green lit to have a child. But only if you pass their tests. One wrong answer and you failed. No questions asked, just a simple sorry try again next year. So all I had to do is fail the exam, fill out a few questions wrong and get off scott free. Except that I inadvertently passed with flying colors. She was so happy and I had to pretend like I was so happy.
And now this room is making me sick to my stomach. The other couples seem to be in good spirits about it and hell good for them, all the power to the ones who want to have a kid but I shouldn't be here. And I know what you are thinking: just get up and out you fucking sap. Make a run for it or tell her you're not ready to go through the program.
Yeah well it's all well and good but the truth is it's never that easy. She wants this so bad and she would be crushed to hear me say I don't want to do it. And please don't get it wrong, I could be a good father hell I could be one of the best in the business but the truth is I don't want to be a father even if I was one of the best. And I did mean what I told her. She would be a great mother, top in the field.
"You can come in now." the nurse is a small curvy a girl with a fat face but she's cute even if all she is doing is sticking her head out the door. Her hands are warm and she is gripping onto me.
The office is small with a tiny desk. A registered official comes in and sits behind the desk. And I never thought of this until just now but there were no signs that he himself had a family. No pictures on the wall or his desk, nothing, sterile. He goes on and on and I stop paying attention. I get the gist of what he is saying. Congrats you passed the screening and you filled out all the paper work and you filled everything properly so now you can have your license to reproduce, I hope you enjoyed what short life your had.

they say it's like learning to ride a bike again and again and again and again

The rain was coming down so hard it almost appeared to be at a stand still. They sat inside a small diner. Every booth had it's own little juke box to give it that extra vintage look. Bee-hived waitresses with messy make-up worked the late shift and greeted them with half smiles and crooked teeth when they waked in. She ordered and asked for a coffee. He was dressed slightly out of time. A white shirt, with black suspenders and a pair of matching pants. His cigarette never seemed to go out and his coffee never seemed to need a refill. She sat across the table from him with her hands folded on the table. Her red hair was in pigtails and was dressed more in the times. A pair of jeans, a vintage Velvet Underground t-shirt covered by a leather jacket. Her name was Daisy but for some reason whenever he called her Cupcake, she acknowledged him.
-So Cupcake, you wanted to know why I was exiled.
She didn't think he was really exiled. Maybe he was a loon. A well dressed, coherent and sort of handsome in a strange way loon.
-Yeah I want to know why you got exiled from above.
She was just curious enough to find out how far this cock'n'bull story would go before some kind of hole could be poked into his logic.
-Like I said before we got pissed on, they kind of rushed the whole project to get it done in time.
-The project? You mean the world.
-Creation. All of it. You, the grass, the sky...the whole thing.
-Ok, so we were a project.
-Yeah, I peeked at the blueprints once. Rushed the job if you ask me but anyways the project was complete, creation was finished. Now the older gods sat back and looked at their handy work admiring it from a distance where us younger gods got right in the mix.
-But no one saw you.
-Nope, not back then.
-So you were invisible?
-Cupcake can you see the air you breathe?
-No but it still exists, point well made, continue.
-So I end up watching it all. The first steps, the first words, the first "I love you" although it didn't come out all that well but you know the emotion was there. I also saw the first "I think we should see other people" again, the words were scratchy but the emotion was there.
She sat intently listening to what he said not questioning anything he was saying.
-Then I got bored of watching and so I wanted to be involved. I mean really get down in the dirt and roll around for awhile.
His coffee was still hot and his cigarette was still burning. It seemed like his cigarette was never ending.
-But that's breaking some rule right?
-Yes dear, a big rule one that had been around for longer than anything else.
-No intervening.
-Right, the gods and others should never intervene with any affairs.
-None at all.
-Not one.
-So the divine intervention of the virgin mary?
-Horse shit plain and simple. You have to say something to explain a child out of wedlock back in those days so why not make up a good lie.
-So how did they find out?
-Yes, so I end up taking a human form. It was nice, I could feel cold and I could feel warmth and I could play with myself or let other people play with me. Truly a pleasure.
Her face turned a shade of red at the idea of this man pleasuring himself.
-You're blushing Cupcake but it's true. Carnal as it may seem it's an inexpensive, natural pleasure that you people grew ashamed of. But back to the story, I was ratted out. One day I was under a tree enjoying a nice thought while wiggling my toes in the grass when I was yanked back up above. A short trial later and it was determined that I would be banished from above and be made to walk among you fellows.
-And when was that?
-Let's just say it was a long, long time ago. No need to get into mathematical numbers.
-Then how come you don't look older?
-I don't age. Convenient answer I know but also true. The could just kick me out of the club not revoke my membership privileges.
Cupcake laughed and he laughed as well. His hair was reddish brown with a white streak on either side. He reminded her of a gentleman like from the old movies she would watch with her grandfather.
-So do you have a name or do gods not have names.
-Well no not really. Names aren't important to us. But I was thinking of the name George. What do you think Cupcake?
-George sounds just fine.
They smiled at each other and continued their late night chat.

bullshit is all I type

The Severed Cow was a diner just outside the town this story takes place in. A small establishment owned by a thin bug eyed man named Laszlo. The diner was named after a personal philosophy "no red meat". The coffee was always brewed and Henry didn't care if you smoked in the diner just as long as no one got loud and obnoxious. Around eleven thirty every night Laszlo would sit outside with his one and only waitress Norma and he would smoke a joint and tell Norma about how he was glad to own The Severed Cow and what peace cooking brought to his restless soul. A beautiful blonde with a kind face Laszlo felt it easy to talk to Norma about anything and Norma was a perfect listener. She worked whatever hours she felt like and got payed whatever she felt like she deserved along with tips. Never the kind of woman to screw Laszlo (contrary to the rumors that ran around town) and only took a fair amount of cash for her service. Jean Louis was a French-Canadian who was born in some other city but moved to the town this story takes place in just to be a stranger. Jean had once said over coffee and cigarettes with Norma-being a stranger is the best thing you can be, move around from place to place and be whoever you want to be and anytime someone figures you out you just pack up and move on.
Norma knew Jean Louis because he was a regular nighthawk at the Severed Cow. He was also a pretty good friend of the thin bug eyed man and sometimes helped out by watching the diner when Laszlo got too stoned to care to work. The three of them were often joined by hitchhikers or a local from the city who was passing by and saw the lights on. Laszlo liked to tell Jean and Norma how he was shot once and left for dead.
"When I was on my back in pool of my own blood I knew then that I had to stop doing the things I didn't want to do and start doing the things I wanted to do. And right then I wanted to live and to cook. No red meat of course." Laszlo spoke with a unique accent but swore he was born in the United States.

"You know I hate that story. Poor Laszlo, I can't imagine anyone hurting you." Norma said while the smoke from a cigarette curled out of her mouth. Jean had a small portable type writer he brought with him every night he was at the diner. He would type for hours but whenever Laszlo or Norma asked to read what he had typed he always said the same thing-it's not done yet.
The three nighthawks would keep each other company night after night.
But they were never done.

(no subject)

The waitress was a slob, a real pig in an apron serving shit as coffee and glaring at a couple of young lovers a few booths down from where I was sitting. I was probably on my third coffee and Lucy hadn't shown up yet. For her to call me up the way she did, beg me to meet her and then be late was pretty ballsy of her but Lucy had a big enough pair to pull it off. Most guys like me would have gotten up, paid the check without leaving a tip and gone back home to a few good beers. I was watching the waitress eyeball the youngsters and when Lucy showed up it didn't break my concentration.
"Into the waitress are we Chuckles" Lucy asked as if she didn't know what I was doing. She knew I was eyeballing the waitress for eyeballing a couple of happy, sexed up kids.
"You know I hate that kind of shit and you know I always hated that nickname." I said while stirring some cream into my piss poor coffee. Lucy was laughing while she put her purse down. Her face looked the same but her hair was a little different. Maybe she curled it or dyed it or uncurled it or something like that. I just knew it looked different than the picture I had tucked in my pillow case. Yeah I know I should have gotten rid of them all but I didn't so fuck it.
"So...Chuckles..." she said it again, she knew I had only let her get away with that when we were together and now that we weren't she said it even more.
"So Loose Lucy why did you call me up out of the blue? Hungry for some old times between the sheets?" I had that hope in my voice that she used to say bugged the shit out of her. And truth was and still is I was hoping she was in the mood to get together. Even after all the bad words were said between us I still had a deep deep love for what she did in the dark. She laughed a very dry forced laugh.
"I wouldn't crawl back in bed with you even though you did have a very athletic approach to the whole sport." Now to me that sounded like a compliment and so I took it as one.
"Ok, Lucy in all seriousness what in the blue hell did you call me for? I'm pretty sure you said you were through with me." I said with a real "getting down to business" tone in my voice. Lucy looked down and sort of smiled a piss poor smile.
"I'm..pregnant." She said in a muffled voice that somehow traveled to my ears and became clear as a bell. I was fucked, totally fucked and the whole time I had watched the young lovers a few booths away. I wanted to get up and tell the young man it wasn't worth it. I wanted to tell him that it felt the same if he did it to himself (bold fuckin lie but hey he might have believed it).
"I need you to be involved Charlie, you don't have to be there for me but I want you to know him and I want him to know you." Lucy had such a serious tone and I had never heard her call me Charlie. I was Chuckles, I was her Chuckles and when she called me Charlie it felt like a punch.
"I'll be there for him. I don't know how much good I'll do but I'll try to do my best." I was serious. I wanted to be there for him when he came out of that warm, wet gooey hole and into this piss cold world. Lucy put her hand on the table and I held it. It was all so story book that I thought it had to be a dream. But it happened. The waitress glaring at the young lovers and Lucy inviting me back into her life in a way that I wasn't prepared for.

plight of the clockwork

He put his hands on his chest and felt the gears moving slowly. The cogs were turning just slow enough to keep his body functioning. He often thought about what it would be like if he just opened himself up and tinkered around with the simple mechanics that made him move and exist. The thought of himself wanting to open up his chest cavity must have been a result of past conversations after all he was simply a clockwork man and they had no thoughts of their own; just thoughts and ideas they had picked up along the way. Anything a clockwork knew was simply mimicked from one source or another. Even then a clockwork would have no true understanding as to what it was they were mimicking. It seemed strange to him that the inner working, all in the world that made him move were in his chest and not in his head. Sometimes it worried him and then he worried because he got worried.
"It isn't supposed to be like this" he said to himself. "I'm not supposed to feel like this...or anything for that matter." he mumbled while he felt his insides turn literally slower. The large cogs spun slow which caused the small identical piece to turn slow which caused everything else in him to move slow and in return caused his hands to move slowly to his chest. A clockwork man contemplating his own death. Clockworks were not supposed to contemplate anything. It wasn't in them, literally. Most clockworks didn't even know they were artificial until the very moment their insides stopped working.
Clockwork men and women were always designed to fit in with the rest of the organic world. Right from conception they were simply work tools and nothing else. No free thought, no needs, no wants, just cogs and wheels turning; one turning another and that one turning another and so on and so on. Of course death is a part of the organic world and death for a clockwork man was simply their inner mechanics stopping. Two clockwork men had actually committed suicide years prior to mass production of their kind. The early clockwork men both hung themselves side by side like wind chimes. There was no suicide note but it was obvious that somehow they had grown depressed.
Baffled by such a decision and not really so much the decision of suicide but the fact that they made a decision rose a lot of questions. The incident was left at a stalemate after researchers, engineers and programmers couldn't understand how a clockwork would end up developing thoughts of suicide. It wasn't something that was taught to them so they could not mimic it and as far as developing the idea on their own was impossible. He knew his time was coming to a slow end. It wasn't painful because he didn't know what pain was. The clockwork mans death was simply slow, dull and expected.

she was a teenage disease


We met at one of those parties at someone's house when their parents go away for a week and they are dumb enough to leave a bunch of eighteen, nineteen and twenty year olds alone for a whole week. She was in some of my classes but I didn't notice her until that night in a mini-skirt and stripped stockings. I did the "dude" thing and asked her if she wanted a beer. She was dancing along to some band playing on the radio. "Yeah lets grab a beer and head outside for a smoke." I was into it. I wanted to be into her after I had gotten dumped by that girl I was with for two or three years. You get lonely after you've been into someone for that long and then they just decide one day that it isn't working out. Fuck it. Mary was cooler than that rag anyways. She told me her name once we were outside smoking cigarettes on this guys little brothers swing set. She was cute and swinging on that swing set I caught a glimpse here and there and I dug her and it was one of those things were you can tell a girl is into you but you play it off like there is no way she would be into you but I knew I was a sure thing.
We end up sneaking into the pool house with her folks asleep up at the house. We drank some more beer and smoked a couple more cigarettes before we were sucking each others insides out. My hands found there way around her body and she made her way around mine. "Not yet." she said. "Never on the first date."

"So you want to hang out again?" she laughed at me like I was retarded for actually asking that.

"Yeah I want to hang out with you again." right after those words we were making out again. My finger went all over but nothing too serious. We talked a bunch in-between making out about school and stuff. "I don't know what I want to do when I graduate but I think I want to be a biologist."

"That's cool maybe you could create a new disease and kill off a couple of people."

"What do you want to do?"

"I'm thinking of traveling and maybe writing a book like Kerouac or Vonnegut."

"That's kind of cool, we read On The Road in class earlier this year."

"I think the sun is coming up. You should probably go."

"Yeah if my folks walk into my room and I'm not there my Mom will have a stroke and my Dad will shoot me."

She sent me with one last kiss and her phone number.

"Call me."

The walk home was short. Mary maybe a block away and I cut through some backyards to get home quicker. I snuck in the back door and took off my clothes as soon as I hit the bathroom. My Dad was one of those guys who works on roads tearing them up and repaving them. He was loud and it was easy to hear him when he woke up. Mom was a school nurse but not at my school. She said if her mother had ever worked at her school she would have been embarrassed so she wouldn't put me through anything like that. After I showered I roamed around the house for a couple of hours just to make sure my parents weren't suspicious of where I was last night if they even knew I had snuck out. Mom went off to some school meeting and Dad was leaving for work.

"Make sure you take the dog out for a walk and do some dishes." Dad always sounded like he was yelling but me and Mom had figured he had lost a percentage of his hearing from all the jack hammering at work. I still had Marys number but I didn't want to call her immediately. It's another one of those "dude" things, we wait and try our hardest to pretend like we don't really care. Louie Louie was one of those dogs who loves attention but doesn't know when to leave you the hell alone. He was like a needy child on four legs with a wet nose. I hesitated to call Mary. I wanted to but there was that rule, that twenty four hour waiting rule.
Louie Louie and me went for a walk around the block. He squatted in the neighbors yard and shit like he normally did. I couldn't get the taste of Mary out of my mouth. It was strange like she had an actual distinct taste. It was good but it just kept reminding me that I wanted more and I started to rub my tongue all around my teeth just to keep the taste on my tongue. It was like a sickness I checked my forehead to see if I had a fever but it felt fine. I could have sworn my body temperature had risen a few degrees. We walked back to the house and I spent the rest of the day sleeping on the couch and I dreamed of Mary. We were in bed and then a grassy field and then nothing just big black space and our naked bodies. "You can have more." she whispered and when I leaned closer to her I felt it hit my face. I had met the floor after falling off the couch. I went to my room and pulled out Marys number. My palms were sweaty pieces of meat and I was so nervous my heart started to race.

"Is Mary there."

"I knew you'd call."

"Are you doing anything tonight?"

"No why do you want to "hang out" again?"

"Sure." shit I sounded too excited.

"Ok but we should meet at the pool house again."

"Sounds good."

"Alright I'll be waiting for you."

I threw my shoes on and started to walk over. I cut through backyards again to get there quicker. She was still in my mouth and I knew if I got there quicker I could have more. I started to think I was obsessed but it was that distinct taste that was causing it. I got there sooner than I thought but the lights in the pool house were off. I figured I would just sneak in and wait for her. When I opened the door I could barely see two feet in-front of me. As soon as the door shut I felt her hands grab me and pull me down.

"I pulled the bed out for us."

"Jesus you scared the shit out of me, why didn't you just turn a light on."

"I don't want my parents to see us."

She raised my hand up further and further. It was skin to skin and she started to take my shirt off. I was all over her and she was all over me and soon I found myself on lying on my back while Mary undid my belt and yanked my pants off me.

"I don't normally do this with a guy I just met but I like you." I kind of laughed to myself when she said that. I wanted to say I've heard that one before but I didn't want things to end before they started. We devoured each others sex organs and before I knew it we were into each other. I was maintaining myself while she tried her hardest to win our little naked wrestling match. After a couple of minutes she started kissing me on the lips and then worked her was further and further down. My mind felt relaxed and my whole body went sort of numb. My eyes got heavy and my heart started to slow down. Mary just kept going even after I thought I had finished. I was spent and I felt my brain sort of collapse into itself. Her voice sort of faded in and she was talking as if I had been conscience the entire time.

"I can introduce you to my parents soon, I think they'll like you."

"Oh, yeah that sounds good." I was a zombie, I hadn't been there for the past half hour or perhaps even longer.

"It's getting late again you should go, but I will see you in class tomorrow."

"Oh, yeah that sounds good." shit I was a goner and I didn't even know I had left.

That walk home was like a waking dream. The bushes looked funny, I took the long way home and the street lights hummed her name over and over again. I was sure I was sick. Delusional, possibly schizophrenic or I was sure I had at least a fever. I had made it to my front door, my legs felt like they were ready to collapse. The house was quiet and all the lights were off. I took all my clothes off and fell into my bed, my whole body felt like it was on fire. The ceiling was spinning or I was spinning. I could still hear her name and if that wasn't bad enough I could taste her again. My insides were melting but for some reason I wanted more of her. It itched. It burned. I know what you are thinking because that's what I thought it was at first too. If I was only so lucky.
It was a rough night. An hour or two of sleep and my face showed it. Or at least I thought it did. When I looked in the mirror I saw a pale pasty face looking back but when I asked anyone else they said I looked fine. My normal healthy self is what the school nurse said. Of course I wasn't going to tell her that I had unprotected sex with this Mary girl and all my problems started on that night. All those nurses knew each other even if they weren't in the same school, they were all sort of like a secret society and if my name got brought up at one of their meetings I would have to explain all of it to my Mom and I wasn't ready for that. When I left the nurses office Mary was waiting in the hall for me.

"Hey killer are you feeling ok?" she had this look in her eyes like she knew something.

"Yeah I'm ok I just felt like getting out of class for a little while."

"Well how about we get out of class for the rest of the day, just me and you."

I know what I should have said and I know what I should have done. But I didn't do what I should have done and I didn't say what I should have said. We were off the property and she took my hand. It was like a dead mans hand but she didn't notice or didn't care. Maybe I was going crazy and all of this was just a coincidence. Meeting her and being in her maybe it was just the timing. I thought we had walked for hours and I kept thinking everything was just disappearing behind us and being created in front of us. Like we were only steps ahead of an invisible destruction and only steps behind the creation of it all. We were at the pool house again. I don't even remember getting there but we were there. It was a nice day out.

"I'm going to go change I'll be right back."

She walked up to the house. I sat on the diving board looking into the water. My face still looked pale and sickly but wouldn't she have told me if I looked like a member of the living dead? I started to think Mary was holding something from me. Possibly something that was causing all these problems but I didn't want to ask her. I couldn't get the nerve to ask her if she had an disease that maybe I should know about. Mary came walking back to the pool in a two piece red and white polka dotted bathing suit. Something in me just kept telling me she couldn't have anything to do with this and if I asked her then I was an asshole for even thinking it. She hit the water with a splash and she swam over to the diving board where I was still sitting.

"Are you sure you're ok?"

"Just a little tired."

Mary gave me a nice little half smile before going back under the water and swimming to the other end of the pool. She floated on her back completely relaxed and calm. There was no way she knew what was going on. The water reminded me of the emptiness of space and if Mary were naked it would have been a perfect replica of my delusional fever dream. Then the water stopped being water and began to be stars and empty space all around Marys naked body.

When did this happen?

When did she take her clothes off?

When did the pool become space? I felt better. Like normal.

When did the sickness go away?

Mary swam through the stars and empty space to whatever was suspending me above the cosmic pool. She reached up and took my hand.

"It's scary I know but you will be alright." her voice had a faint echo but it was soothing.

It wasn't like water.

Space was like swimming in sand or something to that affect.

I was naked.

We were naked floating in the big emptiness of space. I thought I was dreaming again but it didn't feel like it. It started to engulf me. Space wrapped around me and I felt sick all over again. My body temperature slowly crept up to boiling and I could feel the sweat leaking out of me. And like before she was talking to me like I had been there awake and conscience the entire time.

"I'm glad you're around."

"Yeah me too." I was there but it was like stepping into mid-conversation.

"I'm glad we found each other."

"Yeah me too."

The walk home was long and it probably didn't help that I felt like my skin was melting off the bone. Under the street light I stopped. It had to be something with her. I needed to know. So I walked back to her house. Her bedroom light was still on. I threw a few small rocks until she looked out and saw me. She signaled me to wait for her. Mary came out the front door a few seconds later.

"What's going on my parents will kill me if they see me out here."

"What is going on, what did you do to me?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Ever since we started seeing each other I've been...sick."

"Ian I don't know what you are talking about but it's not making me want to talk to you anymore."


Mary backed away. Afraid. But I should have been afraid of her.

"I didn't do anything to you..."


"I don't know what you want from me but you're scaring me."

"How many?"

"How many what?"

"How many before me."

"Are you serious."

"I could have something that I caught from you...how many before me."

"I don't want to talk to you anymore...ever again."

Mary looked like she wanted to cry but I was lost and there was nothing to change how bad she had gotten under my skin.

"Fine forget everything."

I walked back home. The whole way feeling sick and worse than even before. I liked Mary, I was into her and I thought she was into me but if she was she would have told me. She stalled when I asked her. She looked like she wanted to say something along the lines of: How dare you ask me that. It has been me and you since we started talking and that should be good enough.
Suddenly I felt like maybe I knew what had happened. I let myself get sick. I let her get so deep into me and she burrowed herself under my skin like a bug. Mary didn't give me a disease. Mary was the disease.

the first step is always the hardest

Sooooooooooo I've been dicking around here for like an hour or two watching shit on youtube (root of all evil) and listening to Margaret Cho who is actually really funny. Danielle is laughing like a loon which is fun to see. Buuuut anyways I wanted to start to get back into writing and if you have ever been really deep into writing and then just one day stopped...and months later you decided to get back on that old pony. You know how it is like the most painful thing in the world and how everything else seems to distract you from writing word fucking one. Sooooo instead of coming up with some new material I decided to work a little with an old idea. I had the idea of a neanderthal or in this case an indian (pardon me I mean native american) and the idea is kind of like the last of a tribe but the first of another. Like the first neanderthal to develop an extra spinal bone or a thumb. The first neanderthal to have a better developed brain than the rest of his tribe. I guess essentially evolution is what I had going for this little idea. How it must feel to be the next step in it all. And what I produced is complete and total crap. Plain and simple but it's a step at getting back to writing which is what I want to do because it makes me happy and makes me feel useful...or at least I think it makes me feel happy and I think it makes me feel useful.

He stood up on a hill far away from the village he was born and raised in. He had woke before the dawn and packed a small amount of food in a sack made from the insides of a baby buffalo he had killed weeks before. His tribe, his old tribe, worshipped and used every part of the animals they killed. When he was growing up he ran through the woods with his friends and he was always the fastest and when they were old enough to hunt he was the best hunter. His parents kept him safe from everyone else in the tribe except the shaman. He was to be the first of the new tribe.

Henry Joseph Darger Where The Hell Are You.

I want to write a book or three. I have titles like "This Trip Never Happened" "The Last Cigarette on Earth" "Yoga And Cigarettes" and "The Art of My Jackassery". A small art zine called "American Splatter". I probably have enough material to put one together too but it's that other thing that keeps me from doing it. That thing that keeps some people from leaving their jobs and pursuing independent business opportunities. You know that thing called laziness. It's like a disease and I got it bad. I think laziness actually cripples me a little more every year. Ideas are always popping into my head but the action that it takes to make those ideas into something is hard, which I'm sure anyone will tell you and then they always follow it up with some kind of morally upright saying like "you just gotta do it" or "that's such a great idea you just need to do it, I can help" or "oh man that's so awesome you should just do it...just like fucking do it". Well if it was just as easy as "just fucking do it" I think we would see a lot more art, poetry, stories, plays and movie scripts out there. But we don't and I know why. I'm part of the problem so I can only imagine what is out there that will never get read, or seen or even appreciated. To a point it's a drag, a real big drag but also imagine if you were one of the only people who got to read something that no one else ever does or see a painting that will go its entire existence being unappreciated. That is what keeps it all going. That is what keeps me going and even simply trying as little as I really do (and I know how little effort I put into things and I get discouraged and give up and then that's just that")...the idea of undiscovered art in any medium keeps me enthralled with being creative. Even if I just fake it.