November: Outbox

You can listen to a reading of this one too. Click.

Recips include: Jasmine; Jeff; Steven; Victoria; Thuy; Kathryn; Bess; Eugene; Hal; Casey; Stephanie

Ran into Sarah at the rave. Crazy. How are you our starlit night map? Finally got it all documented. Wish the aliens would abduct me to their UFOs.

SEPTA is a rotting horse carc. Just wana ride and die for my steel champions. Just wana grab some babe and save some day.

The smell of eggs and coitus and death and apostrophe and maligned souls and burnt rubies having been burnt by lazers and honesty’s chafing arguments anarchist women who are babes but taken by themselves in South Phila eating dumplings ‘n’ raisin bread ‘n’ drinking Tuscono wine under a quiet roof hiding from frozen fingers. It’s okay to save weird for later sometimes if you’re not like me ‘cause I fuck shit up through illogic.

Beefcup panty surprise. You miss’d the most insanely depressing morning ever. I recommend you van it tomorrow if only to know this stagnant misery. If that wasn’t the most miserable waiting period of this city’s boiling year I can’t figure out what is.

She has a good kind soul. Wish I could be a rebel without feeling so alone. I understand why all men in Victorian novels hate women their age and go for the youngins. With what machinery will we yank them all?

Another night alone. A great feeling for a 23-year-old. Can’t wait for the two year abstinence anniversary. Should be pretty soon. I love the floors after last period. Like looting the dungeon. I see you but you’ll never see me. Neon gummy worm waste gut. Hope Mangum has been writing albums this whole time and releases them every month in 2012.

What a fuckin’ night! Insanity on the open plane. One of these days I need to convince a City year babe to take a day off and fuck me for the entire ten hours of the shift. Experiences become fresher through the ages as information becomes more available. Harder for us to get into reality. Slower to exist out of such. Tonight is more about opening people’s minds up than anything else. Doesn’t matter your stance. My performance will be addressing greed and hubris society-wide

We don’t need more Creeleys dicking around with single eyeballs. Only way to survive is to join something or make it. That only matters to silencing fields. I’ll read it all when I’m in Hell’s quantum playground. Sugar Mom’s. Land o’ Lakes and cheese fry innuendos. For every brute a brawn. Some more soul-crushing weather.

The Names by Don is agonizing, hilarious, merciless and important for expats and airport enthusiasts. Gonna skip everything tonight and read it, I hope. Wish I was on the Olney East team. They are in their office doing makeup reading, playing cards, and drinking juice boxes. The them is neutrinos and their presence in dark matter. Vice is perfect. Brian is awesome. Optimism personified. Like Jasmine but not eighteen. The El Bar’s backyard is like Union Pool but for people who know they are fucked. Strippers dressed in unicorn costumes. True story.

Alone at Fox and Hound is like being transcendentalized by a wash of noise. Just got done the interview. One hour long. Amazing. And The Names is great humor too but marriage dysfunction is the big lesson. And that is what comes next for us lame duck isolators.

You are the sweetest heart in all the Atlantic. We need a leader we can fall in love with. Where did political romance go? I like the smell of your curry.

Dome pg 28: Allens. Dome pg 35: LCD Soundsystem. Recovery from last night’s nonsense. Today has been nomadic misery. The pains of being pure at heart are nails in the head. The sky is great and post-Leonid creamwash this morning. Your sister called me last night. Said your other phone was found or something. Where can you get Grimbergen here? You drunken fuckfoot. Incognegro.

If I’m free. Many things. Maybe Blind Man’s Ball Tuesday. How old are you? What kind of cooking? I leave for Maine on Wednesday. Same schedule situation. 23. Stews are precious. Will update you after lost planner madness is resolved. Strawberries are a dollar a pack. No answer. Feverish.

I’ll get the cert in January. For now gotta make sandwiches and contemplate why not offing myself. Snusing on the job. Scoundrel of a raging soulless. Like in Myth 2 where I was number three on the official ladder. Bat your eyes mate. Weed cookies. A sly fox. But skinnier. Pic image you blues busta. Cookie effect noticeable. Bottle of aura and uproarious coping viz. Get up on it or bow down low before the elephant.

The ghosts are moshing. Fuck Mitch. Assembly line assassin today. Post-weed cookie and gregarious feast hangover. Feel like a cookie monster. An egg salad sandwich gutterfly. The warehouse was called Wood Stove and the dogs were perfect and I remember spicy cornbread and a curry dish. Oh no! My brother! Snuggle with the decapz!

You or your fam want chocolate PIE? I swear your insanity is bolding. Same diff as head exploding Mine defined. Yours to be announced at your convenience. Goodbye all the lonely train trax. I forgot about the absolute terror of driving through Maine backwoods stoned into treebark. Bush transplants and shit. Trying to figure out naughty vs. nice. They don’t sensor the word “tits” on the radio here

Four out of ten spice-wise. But the nicest male waiter in all of Portland said a 20 has been done before. Hope hope hope I get to see you, oh Smile of Maine. Take Benadryl and zombie this one. It’ll resurge your Goats commitment. Plane leaves at 6:09. I hope I’m not delayed at the PWM eleven-gate wonderland. Is hanging in PHILADELPHIA ok, oh suburbanista?

I’m gona fast all week. Anti-caloric highway patrol. Remember Disturbed? Maine radio still plays them. Other highlights of the past three days—Blink 182, Tool, Eminem. BUY 3 SNOWS GET 1 FREE. Tires Brennan. It’s all about the tires. Drinking Long Trail. Typing. In front of a half-cranked woodstove. Now I know why Creeley loved this region during those last days.

Hope I don’t get arrested for medical THC blobs. Boarding time. This team blows. Too passive. Where and when am I meeting you plague fiend? This plane is so cramped. Nice seats though. The background on the phone of the person next to me is of herself. Made this shit. Bar bar bararanne Philadelphia’s air toxicity makes my grin much deeper.

Ungodly screams from Spaghetti Warehouse. Tenth and Vine. Homeless summit. Bring your baby carriages. Rolodex init. 4 blox My phone’s dying Front left Sex and all Jonathans in ten. So tired Someplace does. Some nether region place I feel like the underbelly of Hope Blvd. All of it.

I wish we could wrestle at that house every night. Lucky foothold. Sexual demon. Want a babe? Maybe two? Or three? Come to RT where the pussy’s free to see. Irish dancer convention. Creepily beautiful children with kinky curls. Thanks for the animalistic evening I love you both as though you are older siblings

No road tonight. Just too many lagers. Battle wounds. Miserable in the land of redbots. It’s so funny how lonely it gets at City Year when you succeed in rebelling. Buy a pink helmet. Start a development off to the side. My uniform. My bloody mouth and Rittenhouse Square. You are the stochastic huzband. Face mask land. Espresso suck pump. Banks armed with cash like Kabul patrols. Heroin sequin dress. Keep your eye on the lost memory of penguin warmth like me It’s where the ogres originate. A paisley time.

Just learned Olney’s Hispanic guidance counselor was jumped by a bunch of youth last Friday afternoon. Was on his way to the clinic for his heart. Died. Heart attack. We don’t know anything right now Short notice issues. Did she cure you for that day? Short lived departure. Fear is too large. Sexuality prevents. I don’t learn anything when I’m abstinent. I unlearn things when sexually active. 2 reasons to die. You can take it right between the eyes. Suck up.

What does that Japanese mean? And what existential place are you at? And why strange? I just made 2 delicious potluck items.