Thursday, August 1, 2002

please meet me. please.

"Waaahhh," just like Lucy might say. Again and again, pouting, kicking feet, pounding fists into the obligingly non-resistant air, yelling Waaahh because you didn't get your way, because I didn't, because some motherfucking things are just like that, like this, like whatever the hell I am trying to talk about, words not entirelly connecting, but that's how you like it baby, isn't it? You stupid motherfucking bitch - I mean if you don't know what it means (really, you don't know what anything does) you'll say Ah-ha, s/he's saying something important here, it's between the lines, it's somewhere in the ambiguity, it just has to be dug out - and you are just the person to do it, break out the motherfucking shovel, asshole - I mean if I say random shit like: Waffles float through electric air, sizzling on rays given off by my plastic cups, the feeling of you here to me in this our sad, pathetic two seater. If I say shit like that, or if I address a You, saying something like: You are a fucking moron, you masochistic bitch - then you love it, you gobble it up, wondering who am I talking about, invariably thinking that it may be you because this is a [insert your name here]centric world. And fuck it, Waahhh. Wahhhh. Fuck you and you and you.

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