Hi. Where'd my popsicle go?

I am right now writing to you from the future because after reading what I wrote and it made me kind of pissed at myself but a little sad for myself too. I'm like that new puppy that you love so much and really want to bring home and love forever but now the house smells like pee, your neighbors hate you, now Jesus hates you (even more) and due to your ack of sleep, the bags underneath your eyes now lookaren't going away - see? That was dumb too. I just forgot what i was going to say again and I'm writing in the wrong place. I need to go back over....

It's very hard to write now...or, I should say that it's harder for me to write now because I write like I talk and if you were a friend of mine when I used to have friends, you'd know how hard it is/was to listen to me in real life because listening to me if you're unable to jump out of the car or you were too polite to ask for the check because I was talking to the lesbian Lizard alien couple(s) interupt me while and I'm like, five kids telling you about HERE. That made no sense.

Well, I'm not going to even bother retreading those tired, written tires that I previously tried, but now im tired of trying and I'm out of time. It's too - mulch - I mean, MUCH sometimes

And now you'll stop listening to my insistent instances of idiotic illiteration because I think it's funny and hope, for you that it's  funny to litter in the little, itty-bitt,  private park of your patience. That was Pdumb Ptoo but I pwish that it was a psaying. That was a dumb pwish...and my ppopsicle by the keyboard has melted -

Reading Something About Something to Someone But Torn In Half…….

 

s and I took 112 of them, right? Some will lead to more worry, insecurities and whatever’s but, at times certain paths - invisible or well trodden will require more sweat and for you to work different muscles in your legs and your brain and your heart and that’s a requirement for  parts of your developing SOUL (and he pointed at his head) and all those awesome choices require time, fortitude, honesty and YOUR attention then blah give me a one word answer of what I and what society approves of!” You don’t have to have the answers.  Just as long as you want to do something. Shit, take everything! All of it! It’s your turn, buddy. Just don’t screw it up like me - just kidding…heh heh. What kind of person do you feel like you are and what kind of person do you strive to be? What are you working on right now…with yourself - good or bad? The person that you are right now should always be working on a million things because being boring means you’re dead. Otherwise, you’d just be nothing and that’s kind of gross. It’s perfectly fine and actually admirable to want to do just one thing, one job, maybe even just one pair of pants - nuthin’ wrong with that.  Well, it depends on the pair of pants but it’s perfectly okay to create new opportunities because you’re supposed to and so…good.not to know what you want to be or where you’re supposed to go because because you’re a human being and we’re in our human spacesuits until we die and shuffle off this mortal coil and then say hi to Jesus or Jedi or whatever - just as long as you have goals.”

And that’s about the gist of it. I don’t remember if he said that maaaybe exactly the way that I just transcribed it here on this cracked, tiny phone, naked after a shower and muttering to myself But I’ve always remembered that quick during a couple smoked cigarettes with him and it was years ago, he was much older than I was and I was at a new step new family reunion thing and it was at his house for this Thanksgiving rotation and I guess that it hadn’t  happened before and he was the black sheep of the family because he married a gorgeous black lady and he had 50’s memorabilia and neon and jukeboxes decorated all throughout his house and his garage and he smoked Marlboro Reds and he told the family to fuck off because they were conservative fakes but he was trying to make amends and it was Thanksgiving and he said that it was perfectly fine to bum another cigarette off of him before he headed back inside and that he’d see me there and that I should stop smoking because that shit will kill ya’, and then I never saw him again. 

• I’ve never had a question about you and what you were going to do after this. You’re one of those rare people that keep things moving for yourself and help keep the traffic flowing for others too because YOU ARE ENERGY. You’re not a CAR - you’ll never just be a CAR in this life - 

YOU are THE TRAFFIC! No, I take that back -  You’re the WHOLE goddamn FREEWAY. You are EVERYTHING and don’t let anything ever slow you down because this life really is pretty damn short I’m finding out so let nothing but gas pass you by…or through you. Really, Kevin? That’s how you’re going to end this? Like that? It’s okay, I’m not saying goodbye just saying an equivalent on rare occasion like tonight, you - give me a call or text if you need anything at all - text me or The Missus and you always have something even when you think you don’t.  Because she’s amazing and I’m entertaining maybe, two out of ten encounters. Be honest and be ENERGY and be yourself and you’ll always be fine. Thank you for being my friend and for trying to help me fight the good fight. Life needs YOU. Okay, bye.

Fat Free Milk is racecar taco cat taco cat racecar si kliM eerF taF

If I never wrote what you're reading right meow -

I wonder what we’d all end up writing or reading instead? Would this or whatever I wrote before this - or ANY writing - would it or something similar still be here?

Could nothing change it? Could nothing take it's space? Are created spaces eternal and non-budging, or maybe at least, ink smears?

For sure? Fo' Sho'? 4-shure?

And if it didn’t - would I now want to read what you were going to say before rather than what you wrote instead or both of them?  Or neither? 

Huh? Now I'm confused too, me! 

More. Mored confused.

What are you writing about? Edit yourself -

Okaaaaay, FINE.

Hi.

Maybe I didn’t read an article that had popped up before I started writinhg this and maybe I became so sad reading of a random strangers suffering or maybe I'm still wiping my eyes with the heels of my hands, unsuccessfully stemming an unexpected flow of stinging  tears noisilyspattering the desk like baby raindrops as I type this? This. This.. . .. . .....

Sometimes life hijacks life 

and sometimes we’re better for it 

and sometimes maybe not

What’s better anyway

and in which way

and for whommmmmmm each tear drop hisses at me 

as they fall slowly 

fading 

not completely gone

shuffling off this salted Earth lives for something

for anything else

each drop evaporating off this mortal coil

And it’s totally okay, you know.

I’d rather have it this way instead. 

It’s better this way, me thinks.

I mean, not that you’d be particularly suffering the first of many inevitable Oscar the Grouchy Marxian and not Karl Men Are From Marxian spasmodic eye twitches due to reading whatever feels-electric or maybe epileptic prose was going to previously write and that by the end of THIS sentence and whatever lifted or spontaneously-created prose by now has fully dissipated into the brine that is our brains. 

Man I just fell in love with that unpunctuated and never decelerated last sentence. Probably one of my favorites I've written in a loooong time. Really. A long time, man. So much has changed. That fat free doofus from long ago. Me. Not me anymore because it was so long ago and he was kind of happy in his misery and he knew some stuff but really knew nothing, that kid - he and his boundless and wasted, ignorant energy. The ME kid from 2001 and all the years that followed. He didn’t realize that every single moment or person that you had with you or in front of you - all of them led to different lifetimes. Some of the ones that are either gone now or far, far away. They’re not yours and never will be. They’re so far away - it’s scientifically impossible to come even close to catching any slight bit of their existence. Fast, propelled, gliding, armored, wide, blotting out skies, masking whole planets…still moving while you complained or took big gulps of your wasted opportunities and retched - you should have taken baby sips and you weren’t old enough to drink that yet and maybe you aren’t now. STILL. That kid that started a blog advertised by Pyra Labs for nothing but a paltry, a measly monthly sum - more than a webpage and more customization options had me more than a tad bit smitten.

I was here before phones could die and when disco wouldn’t...

before you took your first breath

and I was here when you 

unfortunately

tragically

beautifully took 

your last

I was here before phones could die 

and when disco wouldn't

and I was here before that

and I’ll be here after this

I’ve grown especially wistful lately

highly-emotional

drifting slowly

and lazy

near-still and floating

balloon-like down hallways 

in a constant state of

pervasive 

fogged melancholy

shambling 

shuffling

and moaning

of coalesced loves

and the faintly thin, distant laughter of once-close friends

reaching in vain with sinewed hands 

clawing at curled pictures 

and dusty cassette tapes left to rest in tired, rotted boxes

and aching 

for the transparent

gossamer

web-like wisps 

 of my greatest, dear companions 

    of some immoral strengths and

        some of divine impurities

            all together

               now

                   and who will always be 

                           my immortal friends

forever 

I'm supposed to be writing about vampire cats right now.....

Without The World-Famous Fat Free Milk Blog

With The World-Famous Fat Free Milk Blog

Euglossa Bazinga

I once met a stripper named "Cinnamon" who after we were introduced and then me immediatly asking if she had a daughter named Toast and a son named Crunch? QUICKITYY-CLACKED over to a bouncer, tapped him on the shoulder and yelled in his ear, "I'm down with dances, right? With EVERYONE tonight, you know?......AND THEN POINTED RIGHT AT ME - "Everyone but...Big Bang Theory over there. Yeah Super Star Trek and shit, nope." She then slowly smoothed her hair with her palm click clack click clacked over to a table where a couple of fat guys wearing prescription sunglasses sat smoothing out invisble wrinkles out of their patterned silk pants.

"I'd rather have a hole in my sock than a sock in my hole." --- Kevin Malone