If we sew ourselves together I want us to face in opposite directions. Heads turned, cheek to cheek.

mother
mother
mother
mother
i am
i am
a good boy
right?

mother
mother
mother
i'm sorry for these thoughts
if they make you cry
i'll buy you a chocolate bar

I didn't get any sleep. I lied awake all night next to my wife. I thought about my college days. In college I took a double honours major in philosophy and garbage disposal. I thought that I'd apply these studies with my creative writing inclinations and have a career in blogging. I would pretend to be a philosophical garbageman, without having to actually collect garbage. I've been blogging about garbage and philosophy now for over two years since I graduated. It's gotten me nowhere. The following three men are my fathers: Jim Morrison, Marilyn Manson and my wife. I'm gay. I'm disillusioned. This is my blog. Life's a bitch.

I'm an object that's done. I'm a disappearing act. I'm split so I eat myself.

I eat. I fuck. I pray to Darth Vader. I'm a good Christian God. I'm your fucking boss. Now wipe my fucking ass, you weak, weak liberal. You're so weak. Do it. Get down. I'm in charge of your puny genitalia. I make you shit and fart when you want to be sexy. Now obey. Just obey and whimper with your legs crossed. I like it like that.

It's disheartening to say that the world is ugly in a common way. We want to say that the world is ugly in a beautiful way.

I used to get a runny nose a lot in high school. Sometimes I would wipe it with my hand, and then wipe my hand with my jeans. I had another method, though, and it was kind of artistic. Actually, it was resourceful. If I was in one of those 'alternative' high schools, they probably would have sent me straight to a fine arts university because of my nose-wiping methods. While the teacher was explaining away the mystery of the universe with Newtonian physical laws, I would be discreetly dabbing my runny nose and wiping it off on the loose leaf that I was not using to enlighten myself about the true nature of the universe. I noticed that the paper would get very damp, and then it would quickly dry. I decided that I would tear off little pieces of the paper, just a little bigger than my nostril. I would soak the pieces up real good, on both sides. Then when no one (or every one) was looking, I'd stick the soggy papper to the wall beside my desk. By the time the class was over, I wasn't any closer to understanding the laws of the universe, but I had noticeably changed my environment: there were dozens of of crusty white flakes hanging on the wall by my desk. Looking back, I think it was beautiful as a visual and a gesture. It was at least inspiring as the Einstien poster beside it that said "Genius is 1% inspiration, 99% perspiration" or "The world may be big, but there are no small things."

It was like performance art and sculpture. And there was probably a lot of conceptual stuff in there about the Enlightenment and Existentialism. I am aware that doing this was very rebelious. Most great ideas are born of rebeliousness. But I was also very bored. The values of the Modern world were dulling me, and making me turn inward: not to reflect, but to make paper-mache snot-flakes. The teacher should have been alarmed and sent me home with the complete works of Albert Camus. You could only go so far pushing the Sisiphian rock up the hill, but there was no end to what you could do to the appearance of the public school with stationary supplies and snot.