Staple Guns And Of The Like.

The best way to not draw attention to yourself, is to not speak. I learned that when I was six, at the local circus, when the dogs were walking across floss and the audience were cheering like they’d never seen it before, with clowns doing pratfalls, their Rudolph noses falling off, covering their faces in an “treasure here” shape.

The thought being redundant and point blank.

Scratch that.

Smashing thought it would be, if we all were on the same page, but often time I find myself chapters ahead and waving buh-bye to the page numbers. I gain, you lose.

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Scorching and desire, desire and scorching. Everything, if you looked hard enough, connected. Like red to pink. Green to orange. Boy to girl, cologne to perfume.

I am ashamed to be a part of the race, humanity is a vile of curse and dog doo. Like a terminal illness bestowed on a child. Like a strong downpour of nuclear bombs deforming your face and future sickness.

Dying would be the only way out of this crap-hole with a ripped ozone. Dying. Sweet torture would be the saying from any dump. Torturous sweet. Sweetly torturous. Sounds deliciously sexual.

If one were afraid of going to hell, all one had to do was slide knife into butter. Not much more came from murder except the abuse and guilt that comes within this psycho’s mind. All to escape life. Life. Life. Life. Life. Fuck you, life, go die, life.

But we’re stuck. Afraid of dying and afraid of murder. O’ hark, thy sounds of pain hollow. We’re also stuck in between the pages of all things rich and beautiful and dumb. We hug, we kiss, we sex, we hate, we cheat, we love, we rinse, we follow.

Lather, rinse and repeat. Repeat, rinse, lather.

When I found myself creeping down, engorged from kisses and blood, I never thought that I’d find myself between two crevices. One, two, three, four. Who are we cheering for?

The crevices were mountainside cool and free edges. The wind snakes through wind, wind, through. Winding roads, wind roads.

Funny how we can have two words with opposite meaning. Funny as a fluff. Funny like smut and snogging. Funny, funny, funny.

These crevices held me together and I was stuck. Lie sticky glue, stuck. How I love glue, glue, glue. Like how I love the circus, and smut and snogging. Funny, funny, funny.

I was so held in these crevices, it was like being stuck in science class. The talk of embryos getting them hot and the talk of membranes was just a step away from banging headboards.

Soon, as of yet, nothing has come from these crevices. The same later, rinse, and repeat cycle ever going and never stopping. They’re just typed letters and running tap blood. Knife in butter, hah hah.

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I ultimately do things for the bettering of mankind. Picking the ugly flowers, tripping the old people and stealng their canes. Mom calls me ‘Grinch’. I don’t understand. I don’t whack little Cindy-what’sherhoo with a spatula.

From your mouth to God’s ears I shall forever steal canes. Hah hah. Maybe that’s why I’m so super-glued to the crevices. Oh, stuck.

Stranger things have happened than revelations at a circus, you’d know. I once killed my girlfriend with salmonella and a bottle of Advil.

She ran around screaming like a headless chicken.

But really, she left me for a farmer. With the straw in the mouth. For a month, I didn’t do much, hah, didn’t do much more than lather and rinse, no repeats. Just lather and rinse.

Hah. Hah.

First rule of dating, never kill the boy/girl.

Second rule of dating, don’t start a Cold War with the ma/da unit.

Third rule of dating is never, ever talking about your girl friends.

Fourth rule of dating is never, ever be the first one to start a commitment.

Its better to just stay neutral.

Hah. Hah.

Deeper in the crevice.

Hah. Hah.

Very astute, hah.

But I was never one to follow rules, the rinse. Throw me a rope, lather.

Kill me now, she says. Stick that knife in that butter.

This whole world is like a carnival. Such a vintage institution.

Hah. Hah.

For a later time, when I get out of this mother-freak crevice, this circus of closed, sealed mouth and walking dogs. Hah hah.

Lather.

Rinse.

And then, repeat.

Hah. Hah, you hagger.