Posts Tagged 'Notebook A'

Transcript of Psychology

This is just me

I don’t know if you like it.

You know I don’t consider myself apart of what’s going on around here. This is what they eat. This is their hunger and how they quench their thirst. My hunger is the words and the medium is just an excuse to hurt somebody.



A sound that runs thru every cell.

the bodies that yell at me.

Sweeping I want to go to some place weird that I’ve never been before.

How about that? 

A good man is sick. 

I just murdered new emotions 

He was an actor happen everyday 

In life. 

Only write. All authors (whether real or unreal) only write about what they know. I write about whores and lies.


From the seat of my Imagination,… 

He is already what I need him to be. From a glance and extrapolating gestures, I have made him my dream. 

The model-form in your eyes I can study. 

Every word has been called from my soul. 

You can fuck my mind. 

Wrote and now write. (what do you “do”) 

A simple sentence is the body.  

“your much too in love with your words” 

I need to come to a greater understanding, in the sense that all must be informative. 

I’m a liar, you don’t want to be in love with a liar. You deserve happiness, I can’t make you happy. It’s wrong to play games with peoples hearts. 


Whether It’s In His Mind Or Mine

.Past my body is 

.Behind you dangerous; I’m 

loaded, cocked 

(won’t be) Coming around. and ready to 


ass of champions

My Subject

Painting Carving 



Taking a picture 
The clothes you where.

The way you mess your hair 

The scent of boys, riding through the air. 

At the end of the row in the final booth, he looks straight at me. Up and let his lip fall agape. Violent green eyes framed by a chin strap on his relatively square face. A mole I think; and a blue shirt. 

Looking back,… 

With your ring in your ear sing


memorize my lines as I read them 

I realized I was beginning to be. 


This, The One Thing My boy friend 

I still want to have is right 

A seat… behind you. There. 

Since this is one of my last chances, 

I want to note the exact color of your eyes. 

Green, but an autumn green, 

Brighter than hazel. More 

enduring somehow

Saving the Dung Beetle and Why I Want to Be a Fireman.

A new dangered species. Habits: who; what dung beetle underfoot; where crushed during; why fire operations; how when not only put out the fire, but the lives of these poor dung beetles. Childhood memories: shiny red engines. My father was one other early “dung-conscious” firemen. He began the Fraternal Order of Dung-Saving Firemen. All this really looks nothing like what I’m trying to say. I’m altering it as I go. (just wait my mind is spinning) And being threatened on all sides by authority, meaning you. The theme of my paper revolves as follows: “Who are you to question my future?” As we speak, my content seems prophetic (because) so this, is an assault on you. “Why do you think you know my past?” Did it ever occur to you that this is exactly what I want to do? That I want to do something that nobody else does.

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