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breathe a wet otter, bacon too

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Bum

unread,

Jun 12, 2004, 6:11:15 AM6/12/04

breath

bored, lazy too; cramming, an experimental idea, not really sure if
this has been done, thought about this certain way

- Everyone knows that certain stimuli, external or internal, affects
the body and mind, a naked picture increases heart rate, blood and rot
nausea and vomiting, heat increase sweat, water loss, and a sentence
makes a mind angry or scared, and all that isn't new, but my mind
wandered, and thought about ways to alter that initial stimuli through
hyperventilation/r. alkalosis and hypoventilation/ r. acidosis which
is often a secondary effect to a prime phenomenon in a healthy person,
in other words--done in song, scary or erotic movies all the time,
some foreshadow, preparing the mind/body to either increase breathing
or decrease, that in turn, affects the mind for the climax, and that's
really the only benefit when comparing the mediums, because print is
so slow--cueing the reader/listener of print to alter their breathing,
increase or decrease, to feel the climax the right way. This stuff
been done all the time, guide imagery, the only difference breathing
pattern usually changes secondary to the story not the other way
around, that is, changing breathing patterns before they are supposed
to, or something like that.

Kinda like this, and check with your doctor first, or at least educate
yourself, and, VERY VERY VERY IMPORTANT, listener, LAY DOWN ON FLOOR
AND DON'T TRY THIS ALONE, don't want anyone to get hurt

Have someone recite, or tape record, this( stuff can be altered,
doesn't have to be scary, can be funny, or whatever, some old dude
breathing very very slow and reading some strange text ) to you in a
dark and quiet room.

This is compacted, no time to fully develop, little lazy too, but be
cool to fully develop into a story, at least
reveals that emotions and stuff are sometimes controlled by, guess
who, sometime by people that don't give a fuck about you, just
themselves, their
future, sometimes that means playing dumb, other times way behind
stuff.

WARNING:

AGAIN MAKE SURE YOUR ASS AND HEAD ARE ON THE GROUND, ALSO SOMEONE NEAR
TO GET

YOU SOME HELP , IN OTHER WORDS TOTALLY

FLAT, PRONE, RECOVERY POSITION; IF YOU ARE NOT

YOU WILL LOSE CONSCIOUSNESS, THAT IS, PASS OUT, AND BREAK YOUR

HEAD OPEN, AND THAT'S NOT A GOOD THING, NOT FOR YOU, NOT FOR THE
PEOPLE

AROUND YOU EITHER

The otter and oyster

[Breath normally for awhile]

You listen to some gentle sounds; look around and see gentle colors;
you feel pretty good about yourself, belly's full, no worries either.

<10 MINUTES PASS>

[increase your breathing for one minute]

<10 SECONDS PASS>

You're running free and happy, jumping on clouds, over mountain and
stuff, tingling cool all over.

[slow, shallow breathing now for one minute]

<5 SECONDS PASS>

You're hiding somewhere, alone too; someone strange is passing; mind a
little cloudy, some sweat, you guess death, you would probably guess
right, surely not the tooth fairy.

[breath normal for thirty minutes, relax]

You're back, safe and sound, and maybe if you think hard enough, maybe
guess, that if you really try, practice, you can make yourself feel
anyway you like, you'll discover probably you'll be right too, at
least until you eventually die, the otter break-dancing over some
butter and yummy oysters, Las Vegas somewhere in the back ground,
another quarter, 2004 Florida, and another jackpot just missed.

Misc./BIN:

Breath rapid, a fight or fuck, maybe just happy

Breath slow and shallow, maybe you think death passes, maybe someone
won't notice

Fight, hyper

Scared, hypo

Mind get a little cloudy, you'll be right

And if you'll, you'll be right

And maybe if you try, you can make yourself feel anyway you like,

Red = 1

Black = 2

Green = 3

Blue = 4

White = 5

Dumb portrait of the word super-soaker, in a desert, in numbers
------------------------------------------------------
5 1
2

4
3 2
1

5
-------------------------------------------------------

Bum

unread,

Jun 13, 2004, 5:49:49 AM6/13/04

some memoir, the inspiration behind wet otter, bacon too, dredged from
a

garage, a mouth full of Levi Garrett, a cup or two of chamomile, and
after

listening to a memory

breath,

sometimes rattling a black window, no light outside, sometimes not.

"The late hour, reruns on TV, on mute, some other side, another
meridian,

another play, another red curtain, I am there, as I am here, and
listening to

her breath, around nineteen ninety-six, maybe seven, Mesquite TX,
Motel 7,

kinky sex, a plastic bag over both our heads, something else, I still

hear her, I love you, and sometimes, when it's real quiet, I believe
her and

hear myself tell her the same."

bored, lazy too; cramming an experimental idea, not really sure if
this has been done, thought about this certain way,

Everyone knows that certain phenomenon, external or internal, affects
the body and mind, usually in certain/expected ways: a naked picture

increases heart rate, blood and rot nausea and vomiting, heat increase

sweat, water loss, a sentence makes a mind angry or scared, a memory
saddens or cheers someone, and physical stuff, even coincidental
stuff, wroughts thought in someone's head, and all that isn't new, but
my mind wandered and thought about ways to alter the prime
phenomenon's end affect through hyperventilation/r. alkalosis and
hypoventilation/ r. acidosis, which both are often secondary,
contributory effects, amongst others, para/sympathetic, to any prime
phenomenon, and its supposed/usual end affect in a healthy person; so,
in other words, taking stuff in song, movies, the world stage, taking
that phenomenon, in this case, stuff affecting mind and body in usual
ways, and altering the way that phenomenon is supposed to affect the
mind/body, through either increased breathing or decreased, that in
turn, will affect the mind/body in strange ways, for the
climax/ending, maybe doesn't have to do anything with man, beast, or
person. Ok? Ok. Imagine a happy ending, and now, hypoventilating,
imagine that same happy ending; felt a little differently? The way
certain phenomenon affects the mind usually has been beneficial to
man: see a bear, better run or be still and breath slow; don't
understand something, keep your other end shut until you do; smell a
twinkie, find it and eat it, but stuff changes, sometimes some stuff
will benefit man more. And I just use breathing to illustrate my
point; there are other ways, psycho-tropics being the usually the
other way, but both have the same affect, change the way stuff is
supposed to be felt, understood, later explained. And there will be
some comparisons/contrasts to normal/abnormal stuff, usually all
depending on the disposition and past of the person arguing nay or
aye.

Same old phenomenon, new ones, and just the same, same affects and new
ones coming all the time, happens.
_

Kinda like this, first the usual way than altering it, and check

with your doctor first, or at least educate yourself, and, VERY

VERY VERY IMPORTANT, LAY DOWN ON THE FLOOR AND DON'T TRY THIS ALONE,
don't want anyone to get hurt, have someone recite this( stuff can be
altered, doesn't have to be scary, can be funny, or whatever ) text to
you in a dark and quiet room; be like guided imagery.

This is compacted, no time to fully develop, little lazy too, but

concept the same, expanded easily, and, also, reveals, one of the many
stuff deduced, that end emotions and stuff connected to phenomenon are

sometimes controlled by, guess who, sometime by people that don't give

a fuck about other people, just themselves, their future, sometimes
that means playing dumb, other times way behind stuff, any other time
just killing people, people in their way, with a smile and the right
feeling.

WARNING:

AGAIN MAKE SURE YOU'RE ASS ON THE GROUND, ALSO SOMEONE NEAR TO GET YOU
SOME

HELP, IN OTHER WORDS TOTALLY FLAT, PRONE, RECOVERY POSITION; IF YOU
ARE NOT

YOU WILL LOSE CONSCIOUSNESS, THAT IS, PASS OUT AND BREAK YOUR HEAD
OPEN, AND

THAT'S NOT A GOOD THING, NOT FOR YOU, NOT FOR THE PEOPLE AROUND YOU

EITHER,

BECAUSE MAYBE YOUR FREE WILL AND THEIR'S MAY DISAPPEAR.

This is an artifact, totally off after the revision, but still kinda
fun,
at least same spirit. The examples to the revision will follow below.

The wet otter and Cola2

[Breath normally for awhile]

Close your eyes. You listen to some gentle sounds; look around and see

gentle colors; you feel pretty good about yourself, belly's full, no
worries either.

<10 MINUTES PASS>

[increase your breathing for one minute]

<10 SECONDS PASS>

You're running free and happy, jumping on white clouds, over mountain

and
stuff, tingling cool all over.

[slow, shallow breathing now for one minute]

<5 SECONDS PASS>

You're hiding somewhere, alone too; someone strange is passing; mind a

little cloudy, some sweat, you guess death; you look; you guess right,
surely not anything like the tooth fairy.

[breath normal for thirty minutes, relax]

You're back, safe and sound, and maybe if you think hard enough, maybe

guess, that if you really try, practice, making yourself feel anything

you like, you'll discover probably you'll be right too, at least until

you eventually die, the otter break-dancing over some spilt C2 and
yummy oysters, under a hot night, the Flamingo somewhere, another
quarter, 1845-2004 Florida, and another progressive jackpot just
missed. E PLURIBUS UNUM

Misc./BIN:

Breath rapid, a fight or fuck, maybe just happy

Breath slow and shallow, maybe you think death passes, maybe someone
won't notice

Fight, hyper

Scared, hypo

Mind get a little cloudy, you'll be right

And if you'll, you'll be right

And maybe if you try, you can make yourself feel anyway you like,

Another artifact, thought about colors, words, numbers, and feelings.

"oh yeah, that's the way it was supposed to make you feel."

"Shh, thought just something that got someone wet."

"Yeah, that too."

"Whatever makes the dude move, long time ago a stick, now, a hearty
plate

and something to stare at."

Red = 1

Black = 2

Green = 3

Blue = 4

White = 5

Dumb portrait of the word super-soaker, in a desert, in numbers

------------------------------------------------------
5 1
2

4
3 2
1

5
-------------------------------------------------------

Ok, whew, now for the examples:

Just tired now, so making the stuff simple. . .

The usually way stuff happens. . .

Lovely

[breath normally]

You meet someone cool. You like. . .

[increase breathing]

You both do cool stuff together.

[breath normally]

Both of you die at the same time happy.

The end.

Now, alter it.

Lovely

[breath normally]

You meet someone cool. You like. . .

[increase breathing]

You both do cool stuff together.

[slow, shallow breaths for a minute or so]

Both of you die at the same time happy.

The end.

Any difference, maybe, in one a person is giddy, and another,
something just not right. What does it mean, maybe nothing, just a
bored dude, hacking stuff up one late windy night, or maybe, tired,
really tired, stuff on TV, bullshit print, don't tell me how I'm
supposed to feel about stuff, phenomenon changes, stays the same, so
do minds/bodies.

Many more cases, maybe light a candle later, just tired, mind's fried,
Levi Garrett and black spit; just me, when witnessing happy moments,
happy stuff, I come close to not breathing at all, kinda like a panic
attack, kinda like putting stuff in perspective: someday men and women
build and launch a baby towards a black space, a black patch, a
hundred, a thousand years from now, and only way to be a part, pecking
at letters, and maybe pissing people off on the way, same people
that'll be dead anyway, all by themselves too, old and dumb but still
walking around like they're still needed, hooved and clawed, and very
important, need to keep themselves in the world forever, or something
like that,
Larry, some ghosts, and Frank G. Fowlkes, supposed to help or
something.

Breath normal, not aware, don't care, just don't expect me to, slow
and shallow, tonight, tomorrow, all the way to the grave, always and
forever.

Frank Greene Fowlkes

14 June 04

Padre Island, maybe, lost my West Wright Potter, almost everything
else you know, fucking 31 y/o now.

Bum

unread,

Jun 13, 2004, 5:55:35 AM6/13/04

some memoir, the inspiration behind wet otter, bacon too, dredged from
a garage, a mouth full of Levi Garrett, a cup or two of chamomile, and
after listening to a memory

breath,

sometimes rattling a black window, no light outside, sometimes not.

"The late hour, reruns on TV, on mute, some other side, another
meridian, another play, another red curtain, I am there, as I am here, and
listening to her breath, around nineteen ninety-six, maybe seven, Mesquite TX,
Motel 7, kinky sex, a plastic bag over both our heads, something else, I still
hear her, I love you, and sometimes, when it's real quiet, I believe
her and hear myself tell her the same."

bored, lazy too; cramming an experimental idea, not really sure if
this has been done, thought about this certain way,

Everyone knows that certain phenomenon, external or internal, affects
the body and mind, usually in certain/expected ways: a naked picture

increases heart rate, blood and rot nausea and vomiting, heat increase

Kinda like this, first the usual way than altering it, and check

with your doctor first, or at least educate yourself, and, VERY

This is compacted, no time to fully develop, little lazy too, but

concept the same, expanded easily, and, also, reveals, one of the many

stuff deduced, that end emotions and stuff connected to phenomenon are

sometimes controlled by, guess who, sometime by people that don't give

WARNING:

AGAIN MAKE SURE YOU'RE ASS ON THE GROUND, ALSO SOMEONE NEAR TO GET YOU
SOME HELP, IN OTHER WORDS TOTALLY FLAT, PRONE, RECOVERY POSITION; IF YOU
ARE NOT YOU WILL LOSE CONSCIOUSNESS, THAT IS, PASS OUT AND BREAK YOUR HEAD

OPEN, AND THAT'S NOT A GOOD THING, NOT FOR YOU, NOT FOR THE PEOPLE AROUND YOU

EITHER, BECAUSE MAYBE YOUR FREE WILL AND THEIR'S MAY DISAPPEAR.

This is an artifact, totally off after the revision, but still kinda
fun, at least same spirit. The examples to the revision will follow below.

The wet otter and Cola2

[Breath normally for awhile]

Close your eyes. You listen to some gentle sounds; look around and see

gentle colors; you feel pretty good about yourself, belly's full, no
worries either.

<10 MINUTES PASS>

[increase your breathing for one minute]

<10 SECONDS PASS>

You're running free and happy, jumping on white clouds, over mountain

and stuff, tingling cool all over.

[slow, shallow breathing now for one minute]

<5 SECONDS PASS>

You're hiding somewhere, alone too; someone strange is passing; mind a

little cloudy, some sweat, you guess death; you look; you guess right,

surely not anything like the tooth fairy.

[breath normal for thirty minutes, relax]

You're back, safe and sound, and maybe if you think hard enough, maybe

guess, that if you really try, practice, making yourself feel anything

you like, you'll discover probably you'll be right too, at least until

Misc./BIN:

Breath rapid, a fight or fuck, maybe just happy

Breath slow and shallow, maybe you think death passes, maybe someone
won't notice

Fight, hyper

Scared, hypo

Mind get a little cloudy, you'll be right

And if you'll, you'll be right

And maybe if you try, you can make yourself feel anyway you like,

Another artifact, thought about colors, words, numbers, and feelings.

"oh yeah, that's the way it was supposed to make you feel."

"Shh, thought just something that got someone wet."

"Yeah, that too."

"Whatever makes the dude move, long time ago a stick, now, a hearty
plate

and something to stare at."

Red = 1

Black = 2

Green = 3

Blue = 4

White = 5

Dumb portrait of the word super-soaker, in a desert, in numbers

------------------------------------------------------
5 1
2

4
3 2
1

5
-------------------------------------------------------

Ok, whew, now for the examples:

Bum

unread,

Jun 13, 2004, 6:13:09 AM6/13/04

Larry, some ghosts, Frank G. Fowlkes, and a dead child, supposed to help or
something.

Bum

unread,

Jun 14, 2004, 5:26:54 AM6/14/04

Some memoir, the inspiration behind wet otter, bacon too, dredged from
a garage, a plug of Levi Garrett, a cup or two of chamomile, and

after listening to a memory

breath,

sometimes rattling a black window, no light outside, a little too
long,
remembered: "the late hour, reruns on TV, on mute, some other side,
another
meridian, another play, same red curtain, doors slamming, someone
drunk cursing, a chick and suitcase getting in a car, a family of four
and a beach ball getting out of another, I am there and listening to

her breath, around nineteen ninety-six, maybe seven, Mesquite TX,

Motel 7, the old 6, in bed with some new sheets, a faint halo in its
the center, a plastic bag over both our heads, something else, I still
hear her, my hands holding hers, I love you, and sometimes, when it's
real quiet, pulse weaker, colder, I believe her and hear myself tell
her the same."

bored, lazy too; cramming an experimental idea, not really sure if
this has been done, thought about this certain way, probably has, just
maybe not put together this charming way--peripheral neuropathy, C7
degenerative, some tobacco,

mind angry or scared, a memory
saddens or cheers someone, and physical stuff, even coincidental

stuff, bumping someone the wrong way, having to apologize for
existing, for crossing paths, wroughts thought in someone's tea cup
head already filled to the brim with sweets and mint, and all that
isn't new, either you gotta be sucking someone's dick, getting fucked
by one, or supposed to sit by and watch, to be anyone cool, new
sneakers, maybe some parachute pants, cool dude and a chick on gramps
lap, but my mind wandered, like the time at Half-priced books or the
trailer park where there was a Halloween party and a gory homemade
movie, the climatic end, pan to a paper cut then a tongue, and thought
about ways to alter the prime phenomenon's end affect through
hyperventilation/r. alkalosis and hypoventilation/ r. acidosis, which
both are often secondary or contributory manifestations, amongst

others, para/sympathetic, to any prime phenomenon, and its

supposed/usual end affect in a healthy person, so, in other words,
taking stuff in song, movies, print, the world stage, real life,
taking that phenomenon, in this case, all stuff under the sun
affecting mind and body in usual/expected ways, and altering the way
that phenomenon is supposed to affect the mind/body through either
increased breathing or decreased; for, if something as simple as that
can affect endings, others more sophisticated, an elaborated set of
chants and rituals, then climax/endings swing, that leads me to this,
then most likely man swings too, usually the way the wind is blowing,
usually to cover their own ass, or someone else's close, and that not
being terrible wrong but there are some ending/climaxes, yes, some
endings don't need man, woman, or an audience, those endings are not
necessarily dependant on man, beast, or person, to have purpose and
meaning, and so, nevertheless, a distance unfathomable, fiery light
finally going out, not worth any less either.

Ok? Ok. Figure this out, the ending/s people experience vary, maybe
don't need feelings, or certain feelings, don't need love to have
babies, ask the rich and famous, lots of fronts, stuffs even trickling
down, nor hate to kill someone, ask any hit man, mercenary, and if
that's the case, maybe the meaning of ‘man' isn't needed either, just
some instructions, thermodynamic, enforced with punishments or
rewards and the ‘meaning' of man shaped anyway to control others a
little dumber, poorer. All not being necessary wrong, gotta live, make
sure buds have best chance to live too, but a few people don't live,
never even a chance, and, if you haven't figured it out, makes me a
little angry, maybe the hope is not with ‘man,' never to begin with,
only ideas and thoughts of the dead, because if man matters, all men
would have mattered, and that will never happen, just like it has
never happened in the past. I'll reach, fall with it too, only purpose
of man is to bring life to ideas and thoughts, not for ideas or
thoughts to bring life to man, usually the ideas or thoughts to bring
life to man, mean only some men. Anyway, I'm going to apply my ideas
down below, i.e., bio-modification, print, various expected/altered
feelings, and ends/climaxes, etc.

Imagine a happy ending, love, whatever, and now, hypoventilating,
imagine that same happy ending. Felt a little differently? The way

certain phenomenon affects the mind usually has been beneficial to
man: see a bear, better run or be still and breath slow; don't
understand something, keep your other end shut until you do; smell a
twinkie, find it and eat it, but stuff changes, sometimes some stuff
will benefit man more. And I just use breathing to illustrate my

point; there are other ways, electricity, psycho-tropics, but both
have the same affect, only stuff not used to alter feelings the way I
demonstrate but to change abnormal stuff to feel the expected way,
understood, later explained.

And there will be some future comparisons/contrasts to normal/abnormal

stuff, usually all depending on the disposition and past of the person

arguing nay or yea, but doesn't matter, another person humbled, just
like the last ones, another front-runner, some bitch nags, clipped at
the wire.

Same old phenomenon, new and novel ones, don't send me another plane
ticket, and just the same, same affects and new ends coming all the
time, happens.

These are the blueprints to my ideas above, maybe I'll put some hack
in
later.

These are compacted, no time to fully develop, little lazy too, but

concept the same, expanded easily, and, also, reveals, one of the many

stuff deduced, that end emotions and stuff connected to phenomenon are

sometimes controlled by, guess who, sometime by people that don't give

a fuck about other people, just themselves, their future, sometimes
that means playing dumb, other times way behind stuff, pulling
strings, plotting stuff, and any other time just killing people, or
getting people to kill for them, people usually in their way, them at
the dinner table, some catfish nuggets, soon full and a smile, later,
fucking and feeling alright about themselves, and the dead faraway,
dead never matter, and soon forgotten.

Have someone recite this text to you in a dark and quiet room; be like
guided imagery, or learn the art of story telling and record the text,
or just memorize it, the best way if you ask me.

WARNING:

THIS IS SUBTLE, NO WHERE NEAR THE POWER OF USING OTHER ALTERNATES,
PAIN AND BLOOD LETTING MINE, BUT JUST IN CASE, POSITION YOURSELF
SAFELY: FLAT, PRONE, RECOVERY POSITION, MAYBE HAVING SOMEONE NEAR TO
GET YOU HELP IN CASE THERE IS AN ERROR; THIS EXERCISE JUST TO LIGHT A
CORNER, MAN SUCKS, YOU REALLY WANNA TRIP, WAIT TILL YOUR IN YOUR
EIGHTIES OR SO.

This is a silly artifact, totally off after the revision, but still
kinda
fun, at least same spirit. The examples to the revision above will
follow below.

The wet otter and Cola2

[Breath normally for awhile]

Close your eyes. You listen to some gentle sounds, wind over a black
branch, red leaves; look around and see gentle colors, an upside
sailboat; you feel pretty good about yourself, belly's full, no
worries either.

<10 MINUTES PASS>

[increase your breathing for one minute, 18 < x < 37]

<10 SECONDS PASS>

You're running free and happy, jumping on white clouds, over mountain

and stuff, tingling cool all over.

[slow, shallow breathing now for one minute, 10 < X < 16]

<5 SECONDS PASS>

Shot down. You're hiding somewhere, alone too; someone strange is
passing; mind a little cloudy, some sweat, you guess death; you look;
you guessed right, surely not anything like the tooth fairy.

[breath normal for thirty minutes, relax]

You're back, safe and sound, and maybe if you think hard enough, maybe

guess, that if you really try, practice, making yourself feel anything

you like, you'll discover probably you'll be right too, at least until

Misc./BIN:

Breath rapid, a fight or fuck, maybe just happy

Breath slow and shallow, maybe you think death passes, maybe someone

won't notice

Fight, hyper

Scared, guilt, hypo

Mind gets a little cloudy, you'll be right

And if you'll, you'll be right again

And maybe if you try, you can make yourself feel anyway you like,

Another artifact, thought about colors, words, numbers, and feelings.

"oh yeah, that's the way it was supposed to make you feel."

"Shh, thought just something that got someone wet."

"Yeah, that too."

"Whatever makes a chick roost, long time ago a stick, now, a hearty

meal and something pretty to stare at."

Red = 1

Black = 2

Green = 3

Blue = 4

White = 5

Dumb portrait of the word super-soaker, in a desert, in five

numbers

------------------------------------------------------
5 1
2 5

4
3 2
1

5
-------------------------------------------------------

Ok, whew, now for the examples:

The usually way stuff happens. . .

Lovely dumplings

[breath normally]

You meet someone cool. You like. . .

[increase breathing, 18 < X < 37]

You both do cool stuff together.

[breath normally]

Both of you die at the same time happy.

The end.

Now, alter it.

Seconds please

[breath normally]

You meet someone cool. You like. . .

[increase breathing, 19 < X < 35]

You both do cool stuff together.

[slow, shallow breaths for a minute or so, 9 < X < 17]

Both of you die at the same time happy.

The end.

Any difference, perhaps, in one a person is giddy, and another,

something just not right. What does it mean, maybe nothing, just a
bored dude, hacking stuff up one late windy night, or maybe, tired,
really tired, stuff on TV, bullshit print, don't tell me how I'm
supposed to feel about stuff, phenomenon changes, stays the same, so
do minds/bodies.

at stupid letters, and maybe pissing people off on the way, same
people that'll be dead like me someday, all by themselves too, old and
dumb, but still walking around like they're still needed, hooved and

clawed, and very important, need to keep themselves in the world

forever, hording everything, or something like that, Larry, 77 ghosts,
Frank G. Fowlkes, and a dead child, supposed to shut up and go away or
something.

Another idea. . .

LEGEND

This is the marker that you'll use to control the rate of your

breathing, ( --- ). So each time you see this marker you should breath
one

time. The pace will be space, amount of time it takes you to read the
text.

Breath naturally, no depth involved ( 1X )

Coordination, maybe need to practice

Skyscraper, firewalker, some vultures

underneath a bridge above the Pecos river

--- ( 1X )

Slipped thru the chain linked fence, climb some stairs, and balanced
myself

on a metal beam

--- ( 1X )

Crawled back down

--- ( 1X )

Not scared

--- ( 1X )

Just tired

--- ( 1X )

Night, going to sleep now

--- ( 4X )

Bum

unread,

Jun 15, 2004, 7:22:23 PM6/15/04

frank_...@yahoo.com (Bum) wrote in message news:<e67cba1.04061...@posting.google.com>...

> that's the case, maybe the meaning of ?man' isn't needed either, just

> some instructions, thermodynamic, enforced with punishments or

> rewards and the ?meaning' of man shaped anyway to control others a

> little dumber, poorer. All not being necessary wrong, gotta live, make
> sure buds have best chance to live too, but a few people don't live,
> never even a chance, and, if you haven't figured it out, makes me a

> little angry, maybe the hope is not with ?man,' never to begin with,

Bum

unread,

Jun 15, 2004, 7:24:30 PM6/15/04

bad news

Wet otter, bacon too ( 1998 JULY )

She watched the otter sleep on the concrete bank for a while.
She
avoided going during the weekend, too many people, cameras, the lots
of them going home disappointed except for the shows every couple of
hours, a seal jumping thru a hoop, some fish tossed; they would have
better luck going to a natural history museum, animals framed
beautifully with native plants and rocks. Man, did she love going down
there when it was free and they didn't mind if you smoked. She would
go from habitat to habitat, in one habitat, one animal shining, put in
another, dying; no fault, just some bones scattered around a empty
radius. She would get angry sometimes, fucking caretakers getting the
habitat wrong, seldom wrong species plant, most of the time just
excluding some,
too difficult to grow, cultivate, care for, or something. Los Angles
Zoo sucked, lotta concrete; St. Louis, a little better but the cho-cho
sucked; Dallas, new place better than where they use to keep the poor
chimps at: series of dark crampy rooms; Indy, dolphin, big tank, least
200 feet deep, Atlanta, Willy B died, a baby orangutan, Brownsville,
some bitch complaining to the staff someone was smoking; El Paso,
Carlsbad, Phoenix, can't keep the lifeless sand out, she wanted to
revisit, tell them idiots to get the habitats right but she knew they
wouldn't listen, people came to see the creatures, not some plants,
dumb rocks, the climate. The otter lifted its head, a group of
yappidy-yaps walked by, then lower its head again. Her thoughts
drifted, she moved from forests to deserts in a hours, to the artic
all the way to the south pole too. She wrote in her notebook, right
next to a drawing of a centipede, "make the right habitat, of course
some are going to shine, others fail; some may even believe those who
shine, shine all by themselves, and those who fail, well," darkening
the words, "fail all by themselves." The otter disappeared under some
foliage. "harder and harder to differentiate, one habitat here, one
there, offspring ensured to shine, another one being built, another
one destroyed, just in case." She walked over to the grizzlies, them
pacing, at least they didn't still sedate the poor animals anymore.
"Back and forth, back and forth. Right race, right pace, right grade,
right weight, anyone a winner, anyone a loser too" she wrote. She
started to draw a black branch underneath the centipede, a branch not
connected to anything, broken off, and lifted up into space, just the
centipede, nothing else. Later she left and got on the plane after
one too many.
Ears hurt, always hurt, no pressure, just like she read about up in
space. She wanted to leave the dumb planet, her habitat between the
pages of a book, the habitats that were being built by others for
their offspring alone, the habitats with the lifeless sand everywhere,
and go there, taking her chances, kinda like crossing the ocean, a
desert, no map, no turning back, but her ears hurt, and she sensed if
she was to go any higher, not even a branch, her brain would burst out
of her head.

Some memoir, the inspiration behind wet otter, bacon too, dredged from

a cold garage, a plug of Levi Garrett, a cup or two of chamomile, and
after
listening to another otter breath, sometimes rattling a black window,
no light
outside, a little too long, remembered/revisited: "the late hour,

reruns
on TV, on mute, some other side, another meridian, another play, same
red

curtain, doors slamming and someone drunk cursing, a chick and

suitcase getting
in a car, a family of four and a beach ball getting out of another, I
am there
and listening to her breath, around nineteen ninety-six, maybe seven,
Mesquite
TX, Motel 7, the old 6, in bed with some new sheets, a faint halo in
its

center, a black plastic bag over both our heads, something else, I

still
hear her, my hands holding hers, I love you, and sometimes, when it's
real quiet, pulse weaker, colder, I believe her and hear myself tell

her the same ( 2004 JUNE )."

degenerative, some tobacco, and another sand castle, corn syrup, bag
of
corn chips and a flock of seagulls ( 2007 AUG )

Anyone with any type of education knows that
certain phenomenon, external or internal, affects the body and mind,
usually in certain/expected ways:
a naked picture increases heart rate, blood and
rot nausea and vomiting, heat increase water loss, a sentence makes a
mind angry or scared, a memory saddens or cheers someone, and physical
stuff, even coincidental stuff, bumping someone the wrong way, having
to

apologize for existing, for crossing paths, wroughts the thought in

man swings too, usually the way the wind is blowing (climate),

usually to cover their own ass, or someone else's close, and that

not being terribly wrong, call it adaptation, stagnation, whatever,
but there are some ending/climaxes that are preventing other
ending/climaxes from going anywhere, ending/climaxes that are
being ignored, yes, the endings that don't need man, woman, or an
audience,
and those very endings that are not necessarily dependant on man,
beast, or person,
maybe even climate, have a purpose and meaning too, and so,
nevertheless, a
distance unfathomable, fiery light* finally going out, not worth any
less either.

no ambiguities,

*AI, SPACESHIP: BABY

little angry, maybe the hope is not with ‘man'(won't be the first one
to think this), never to begin with either (won't be the last either),

only ideas and thoughts of the dead, because if man matters, all men
would have mattered, and that will never happen, just like it has
never
happened in the past. I'll reach, fall with it too, only purpose of
man is
to bring life to ideas and thoughts, not for ideas or thoughts to
bring life
to man, usually the ideas or thoughts to bring life to man, mean only
some men.

Those ideas and thoughts that bring life to those few last men, will
have been at
the expense of the many, kinda like this, having the superfluous
support services,
pick an industry, sometimes even charitable ones, to provide for the
support
structure so clever people can do research to extend old people's
lives, whose products, like many hospital services today, will be too
expensive for most people, and why should
man do something if its not going to benefit all, maybe because some
men are more important than others--atlas shrugged, world still here,
bub.

Three shells and a pea, people think this, when in reality, something
else is going on. Ask me, take that manpower, invest it in research
for our youth, research for childhood diseases, for the future, a
fiery light, not on gramps, none of their statues either. Fuckers will
build another statue, paint another portrait, waste tons of resources
so some gramps can live another couple of years, but they won't fund
the research so a
sick kid ( 93028 84786 39485 388477 190384 ) can live, maybe live to
do something other than the same old shit. Fucking bullshit, gramps
clever enough to get old, probably clever enough to live a couple of
more years, some drool, another vacation!

Anyway, I'm going to try to continue to change that; apply my ideas
down below, i.e., bio-modification (breathing), print (stimuli),

various expected/altered feelings, and ends/climaxes, etc.

Imagine a happy ending gramps, love, whatever, and now,
hypoventilating,
imagine that same happy ending. Felt a little differently? Of course
it
does, don't need a trust to know that gramps.

The way certain phenomenon affects the mind usually has been
beneficial to
man: see a bear, better run or be still and breath slow; don't
understand something, keep your other end shut until you do; smell a

twinkie, find it and eat it, but some men have learn to alter stuff,
alter so stuffs not fair, so they benefit other don't, stuff stays the
same, their like on top, but others never given a chance, sometimes
others
that can do stuff that will benefit all men more.

WARNING:

[Breath normally for awhile]

<10 MINUTES PASS>

<10 SECONDS PASS>

<5 SECONDS PASS>

Misc./BIN:

won't notice

Fight, hyper

Scared, guilt, hypo

"Yeah, that too."

Red = 1

Black = 2

Green = 3

Blue = 4

White = 5

numbers

Lovely dumplings

[breath normally]

The end.

Now, alter it.

Seconds please

[breath normally]

The end.

Another idea. . .

LEGEND

--- ( 1X )

on a metal beam

--- ( 1X )

Crawled back down

--- ( 1X )

Not scared

--- ( 1X )

Just tired

--- ( 1X )

--- ( 4X )

Frank Greene Fowlkes

14 June 04

93028 84786 39485 388477 190384 93284 98957 02029 02944 83824 03928
82743 49486

90982 45921 04969 27477 29472 82745 06832 82742 92841 94004 82552
93281 38475

39485 28372 18327 39483 95862 82115 48573 82784 38487 29278 82741
87348

Bum

unread,

Jun 15, 2004, 8:57:32 PM6/15/04

Whew,

fuck it gonna play a game of hearts

Wet otter, bacon too ( 1998 JULY )

a hours, to the artic all the way to the south pole too. She wrote in

her notebook, right next to a drawing of a centipede, "make the right
habitat, of course some are going to shine, others fail; some may even
believe those who shine, shine all by themselves, and those who fail,
well," darkening the words, "fail all by themselves." The otter
disappeared under some foliage. "harder and harder to differentiate,
one habitat here, one there, offspring ensured to shine, another one
being built, another one destroyed, just in case." She walked over to
the grizzlies, them pacing, at least they didn't still sedate the poor
animals anymore. "Back and forth, back and forth. Right race, right
pace, right grade, right weight, anyone a winner, anyone a loser too"
she wrote. She started to draw a black branch underneath the
centipede, a branch not connected to anything, broken off, and lifted
up into space, just the centipede, nothing else. Later she left and
got on the plane after one too many.
Ears hurt, always hurt, no pressure, just like she read about up in
space. She wanted to leave the dumb planet, her habitat between the
pages of a book, the habitats that were being built by others for
their offspring alone, the habitats with the lifeless sand everywhere,
and go there, taking her chances, kinda like crossing the ocean, a
desert, no map, no turning back, but her ears hurt, and she sensed if
she was to go any higher, not even a branch, her brain would burst out
of her head.

"the late hour, reruns on TV, on mute, some other side, another

meridian, another play, same red curtain, doors slamming and someone

drunk cursing, a chick and suitcase getting in a car, a family of four
and a beach ball getting out of another, I am there and listening to
her breath, around nineteen ninety-six, maybe seven, Mesquite TX,
Motel 7, the old 6, in bed with some new sheets, a faint halo in its

center, a black plastic bag over both our heads, something else, I

still hear her, my hands holding hers, I love you, and sometimes, when
it's real quiet, pulse weaker, colder, I believe her and hear myself

tell her the same ( 2004 JUNE )."

degenerative, some tobacco, and another sand castle, corn syrup, bag
of
corn chips and a flock of seagulls ( 2007 AUG )

Anyone with any type of education knows that certain phenomenon,
external or internal, affects the body and mind, usually in
certain/expected ways: a naked picture increases heart rate, blood and
rot nausea and vomiting, heat increase water loss, a sentence makes a
mind angry or scared, a memory saddens or cheers someone, and physical
stuff, even coincidental stuff, bumping someone the wrong way, having

to apologize for existing, for crossing paths, wroughts the thought in

someone's tea cup head already filled to the brim with sweets and
mint, and all that isn't new, either you gotta be sucking someone's
dick,
getting fucked by one, or supposed to sit by and watch, to be anyone
cool,
new sneakers, maybe some parachute pants, cool dude and a chick on
gramps lap,
but my mind wandered, like the time at Half-priced books or the
trailer park where there was a Halloween party and a gory homemade
movie, the climatic end, pan to a paper cut then a tongue, and thought
about ways to alter the prime phenomenon's end affect through
hyperventilation/r. alkalosis and hypoventilation/ r. acidosis, which
both are often secondary or contributory manifestations, amongst
others, para/sympathetic, to any prime phenomenon, and its
supposed/usual end affect in a healthy person, so, in other words,
taking stuff in song, movies, print, the world stage, real life,
taking that phenomenon, in this case, all stuff under the sun
affecting mind and body in usual/expected ways, and altering the way
that phenomenon is supposed to affect the mind/body through either
increased breathing or decreased; for, if something as simple as that
can affect endings, others more sophisticated, an elaborated set of
chants and rituals, then climax/endings swing, that leads me to this,
then most likely man swings too, usually the way the wind is blowing

(climate), usually to cover their own ass, or someone else's close,
and that

not being terribly wrong, call it adaptation, stagnation, whatever,
but there are some ending/climaxes that are preventing other
ending/climaxes from going anywhere, ending/climaxes that are being

ignored, yes, the endings that don't need man, woman, or an audience,
and those very endings that are not necessarily dependant on man,
beast, or person, maybe even climate, have a purpose and meaning too,
and so, nevertheless, a distance unfathomable, fiery light* finally

going out, not worth any less either.

no ambiguities,

*AI, SPACESHIP: BABY

that's the case, maybe the meaning of 僧an' isn't needed either, just

some instructions, thermodynamic, enforced with punishments or

rewards and the 僧eaning' of man shaped anyway to control others a

little dumber, poorer. All not being necessary wrong, gotta live, make
sure buds have best chance to live too, but a few people don't live,
never even a chance, and, if you haven't figured it out, makes me a

little angry, maybe the hope is not with 僧an'(won't be the first one

to think this), never to begin with either (won't be the last either),

Those ideas and thoughts that bring life to those few last men,

will have been at the expense of the many, kinda like this, having the
superfluous support services, pick an industry, sometimes even
charitable ones, to provide for the support structure so clever people
can do research to extend old people's lives, whose products, like
many hospital services today, will be too expensive for most people,
and why should man do something if its not going to benefit all, maybe
because some men are more important than others--atlas shrugged, world
still here, bub. Three shells and a pea, people think this, when in
reality, something else is going on. Ask me, take that manpower,
invest it in research for our youth, research for childhood diseases,
for the future, a fiery light, not on gramps, none of their statues
either. Fuckers will build another statue, paint another portrait,
waste tons of resources so some gramps can live another couple of
years, but they won't fund the research so a sick kid ( 93028 84786
39485 388477 190384 ) can live, maybe live to do something other than
the same old shit. Fucking bullshit, gramps clever enough to get old,
probably clever enough to live a couple of more years, some drool,

another vacation, pimp my ride! Anyway, I'm going to try to continue
to change that; apply my ideas down below, i.e., bio-modification
(breathing), print (stimuli), various expected/altered feelings, and
ends/climaxes, etc.

Imagine a happy ending gramps, love, whatever, and now,
hypoventilating,

imagine that same happy ending. Felt a little differently? Of course
it
does, don't need a trust to know that gramps.

The way certain phenomenon affects the mind usually has been

beneficial to
man: see a bear, better run or be still and breath slow; don't
understand something, keep your other end shut until you do; smell a

others that can do stuff that will benefit all men more. And I just

guided imagery, or learn the art of storytelling and record the text,

or just memorize it, the best way if you ask me.

Again this is to demonstrate that feelings are worthless, feelings are
just
used by other people for their own personal purposes, malignant or
benign.
Sometimes you'll meet people with honest feelings, people usually
young and dumb, but meet those same people after some time, they'll
have turned cold, calculating, ruthless. They'll only care about
themselves, their experience, and whoever happen to be there,
chilling. Just a fact, older someone gets, more they'll have to take
that into account. Anyway, if the way endings are felt can be changed
this easy, then endings don't need man, don't need their feelings
either, which leads me to this, then some endings, a fiery light, are
surely not worth any less.

WARNING:

CORNER, MAN AND FEELINGS SUCKS, YOU REALLY WANNA TRIP, WAIT TILL

YOUR IN YOUR EIGHTIES OR SO.

Wetted beaver with Cola 2

[Breath normally for awhile]

<10 MINUTES PASS>

<10 SECONDS PASS>

<5 SECONDS PASS>

Misc./BIN:

won't notice

Fight, hyper

Scared, guilt, hypo

"Yeah, that too."

Red = 1

Black = 2

Green = 3

Blue = 4

White = 5

numbers

This make me feel so terrible. First time someone thought of
women like this. Guess they'll lump me next to the abusers, the
ones in pornography, brothels, whatnot, hell, maybe they'll even
lump me next to some dead beat fathers. But women are easy target
but not that easy as people think, prides, cubs,
protected by a lion, nonetheless, attacking the lion ( archetype ),
lion's pride same thing, just in fun, otherwise I'll be dead,
thank God the 77, patch covered with too many thorns (2005 SEPT).

Ok, whew, now for the examples:

The usually way stuff happens. . .

Lovely dumplings

[breath normally]

You meet someone cool. You like. . .

[increase breathing, 18 < X < 37]

You both do cool stuff together.

[breath normally]

Both of you die at the same time happy.

The end.

Now, alter it. The above example is the natural way, just the same
set of chants, algorithms, etc. Stuffs shifted sometimes, sometimes
even 180: no longer any need for marriages, new habitats allow for
that.

Seconds please

[breath normally]

You meet someone cool. You like. . .

[increase breathing, 19 < X < 35]

You both do cool stuff together.

[slow, shallow breaths for a minute or so, 9 < X < 17]

Both of you die at the same time happy.

The end.
_

Doubt even one would do this on purpose, but this is just reveal
something,
that endings can be manipulated, period, a lot of times by forces set
in
motion by others.

Any difference, perhaps, in one a person is giddy, and another,
something just not right. What does it mean, maybe nothing, just a
bored dude, hacking stuff up one late windy night, or maybe, tired,

really tired, really tired, really tired, really tired, really tired,
really tired, really tired, really tired, really tired, really tired,
really tired, really tired, really tired, really tired, really tired,
really tired, really tired, really tired, really tired, really tired,

really tired, stuff on TV, bullshit print, don't tell me how I'm
supposed to feel about stuff, phenomenon changes, stays the same, so
do minds/bodies.

Many more cases, maybe light a candle later, just tired, mind's fried,
Levi Garrett and black spit; just me, when witnessing happy moments,
happy stuff, I come close to not breathing at all, kinda like a panic
attack, kinda like putting stuff in perspective: someday men and women
build and launch a baby towards a black space, a black patch, a
hundred, a thousand years from now, and only way to be a part, pecking
at stupid letters, and maybe pissing people off on the way, same
people that'll be dead like me someday, all by themselves too, old and
dumb, but still walking around like they're still needed, hooved and
clawed, and very important, need to keep themselves in the world

forever, popping pills, using air conditioners, using manpower for
their research,

hording everything, or something like that, Larry, 77 ghosts,

Frank G. Fowlkes, and a dead child, supposed to help, stare at the
same shell.

Another idea. . .

LEGEND

This is the marker that you'll use to control the rate of your

breathing, ( --- ). So each time you see this marker you should breath
one time. The pace will be space, amount of time it takes you to read
the
text.

Breath naturally, no depth involved ( 1X )

Coordination, maybe need to practice

Skyscraper, firewalker, some vultures

underneath the U.S. 90 bridge above the

Pecos river

--- ( 1X )

Slipped thru the chain linked fence, climb some stairs,
and balanced myself on a metal beam

--- ( 1X )

Some creature was down below, looked like a otter, brown, something

an echo, rocks crashing

Crawled back down

--- ( 1X )

scared

--- ( 1X )

Be dead soon

Just like if as I was never born

A semi passing over head, the bridge trembled

Night then

--- ( 1X )

Just as I was never born, I'll be dead

No home

Already staked by others

Another semi passing

--- (1x)

Slipped thru the chain linked fence, climb some stairs,
and balanced myself on a metal beam

black

I crawled back down

--- ( 4X )

I know I'll soon be dead soon just like as if I was never born

Breath normal, not aware, don't care, just don't expect me to, slow
and shallow, tonight, tomorrow, all the way to the grave, always and
forever.

Frank Greene Fowlkes

14 June 04

93028 84786 39485 388477 19038 4

Bum

unread,

Jun 15, 2004, 9:00:29 PM6/15/04

Whew,

"the late hour, reruns on TV, on mute, some other side, another

meridian, another play, same red curtain, doors slamming and someone

center, a black plastic bag over both our heads, something else, I

still hear her, my hands holding hers, I love you, and sometimes, when
it's real quiet, pulse weaker, colder, I believe her and hear myself

tell her the same ( 2004 JUNE )."

degenerative, some tobacco, and another sand castle, corn syrup, bag
of
corn chips and a flock of seagulls ( 2007 AUG )

Anyone with any type of education knows that certain phenomenon,
external or internal, affects the body and mind, usually in
certain/expected ways: a naked picture increases heart rate, blood and
rot nausea and vomiting, heat increase water loss, a sentence makes a
mind angry or scared, a memory saddens or cheers someone, and physical
stuff, even coincidental stuff, bumping someone the wrong way, having

to apologize for existing, for crossing paths, wroughts the thought in

(climate), usually to cover their own ass, or someone else's close,
and that

not being terribly wrong, call it adaptation, stagnation, whatever,
but there are some ending/climaxes that are preventing other
ending/climaxes from going anywhere, ending/climaxes that are being
ignored, yes, the endings that don't need man, woman, or an audience,
and those very endings that are not necessarily dependant on man,
beast, or person, maybe even climate, have a purpose and meaning too,

and so, nevertheless, a distance unfathomable, fiery light* finally

going out, not worth any less either.

no ambiguities,

*AI, SPACESHIP: BABY

that's the case, maybe the meaning of 僧an' isn't needed either, just

some instructions, thermodynamic, enforced with punishments or

rewards and the 僧eaning' of man shaped anyway to control others a

little angry, maybe the hope is not with 僧an'(won't be the first one
to think this), never to begin with either (won't be the last either),

Those ideas and thoughts that bring life to those few last men,

to change that; apply my ideas down below, i.e., bio-modification
(breathing), print (stimuli), various expected/altered feelings, and
ends/climaxes, etc.

Imagine a happy ending gramps, love, whatever, and now,
hypoventilating,

imagine that same happy ending. Felt a little differently? Of course
it
does, don't need a trust to know that gramps.

The way certain phenomenon affects the mind usually has been

beneficial to
man: see a bear, better run or be still and breath slow; don't
understand something, keep your other end shut until you do; smell a

others that can do stuff that will benefit all men more. And I just

guided imagery, or learn the art of storytelling and record the text,

or just memorize it, the best way if you ask me.

WARNING:

CORNER, MAN AND FEELINGS SUCKS, YOU REALLY WANNA TRIP, WAIT TILL

YOUR IN YOUR EIGHTIES OR SO.

Wetted beaver with Cola 2

[Breath normally for awhile]

<10 MINUTES PASS>

<10 SECONDS PASS>

<5 SECONDS PASS>

Misc./BIN:

won't notice

Fight, hyper

Scared, guilt, hypo

"Yeah, that too."

Red = 1

Black = 2

Green = 3

Blue = 4

White = 5

numbers

Ok, whew, now for the examples:

The usually way stuff happens. . .

Lovely dumplings

[breath normally]

You meet someone cool. You like. . .

[increase breathing, 18 < X < 37]

You both do cool stuff together.

[breath normally]

Both of you die at the same time happy.

The end.

Seconds please

[breath normally]

You meet someone cool. You like. . .

[increase breathing, 19 < X < 35]

You both do cool stuff together.

[slow, shallow breaths for a minute or so, 9 < X < 17]

Both of you die at the same time happy.

The end.
_

Doubt even one would do this on purpose, but this is just reveal
something,
that endings can be manipulated, period, a lot of times by forces set
in
motion by others.

Any difference, perhaps, in one a person is giddy, and another,

something just not right. What does it mean, maybe nothing, just a
bored dude, hacking stuff up one late windy night, or maybe, tired,

really tired, really tired, really tired, really tired, really tired,

really tired, really tired, really tired, really tired, really tired,
really tired, really tired, really tired, really tired, really tired,

really tired, really tired, really tired, really tired, really tired,

really tired, stuff on TV, bullshit print, don't tell me how I'm
supposed to feel about stuff, phenomenon changes, stays the same, so
do minds/bodies.

Many more cases, maybe light a candle later, just tired, mind's fried,
Levi Garrett and black spit; just me, when witnessing happy moments,
happy stuff, I come close to not breathing at all, kinda like a panic
attack, kinda like putting stuff in perspective: someday men and women
build and launch a baby towards a black space, a black patch, a
hundred, a thousand years from now, and only way to be a part, pecking
at stupid letters, and maybe pissing people off on the way, same
people that'll be dead like me someday, all by themselves too, old and
dumb, but still walking around like they're still needed, hooved and
clawed, and very important, need to keep themselves in the world

forever, popping pills, using air conditioners, using manpower for
their research,

hording everything, or something like that, Larry, 77 ghosts,

Frank G. Fowlkes, and a dead child, supposed to help, stare at the
same shell.

Another idea. . .

LEGEND

This is the marker that you'll use to control the rate of your

breathing, ( --- ). So each time you see this marker you should breath
one time. The pace will be space, amount of time it takes you to read
the
text.

Breath naturally, no depth involved ( 1X )

Coordination, maybe need to practice

Skyscraper, firewalker, some vultures

underneath the U.S. 90 bridge above the

Pecos river

--- ( 1X )

Slipped thru the chain linked fence, climb some stairs,
and balanced myself on a metal beam

--- ( 1X )

Some creature was down below, looked like a otter, brown, something

an echo, rocks crashing

Crawled back down

--- ( 1X )

scared

--- ( 1X )

Be dead soon

Just like if as I was never born

A semi passing over head, the bridge trembled

Night then

--- ( 1X )

Just as I was never born, I'll be dead

No home

Already staked by others

Another semi passing

--- (1x)

Slipped thru the chain linked fence, climb some stairs,
and balanced myself on a metal beam

black

I crawled back down

--- ( 4X )

I know I'll soon be dead soon just like as if I was never born

Breath normal, not aware, don't care, just don't expect me to, slow
and shallow, tonight, tomorrow, all the way to the grave, always and
forever.

Frank Greene Fowlkes

14 June 04

93028 84786 39485 38847 7 19038 4

Bum

unread,

Jun 19, 2004, 4:35:32 PM6/19/04

frank_...@yahoo.com (Bum) wrote in message news:<e67cba1.04061...@posting.google.com>...

"Don't let anyone tell you how to arrange
stuff, don't let anyone tell you the pea is
under this shell." strange old man in flip-flops,
( 1999 C.C. ).

Appendix

.
.
. __________________________
.| (B) |
.| scrounging, both food, |
.| ________________ |
.| | (A) | |
.| | extra food, $$,| |
.| | extra pussy, | |
.| |________________| |
.| pussy, |
.|__________________________|
.
.

Also, A earned, doesn't matter when, just the
habitat is passed (estate, money,), same stuff
continued, no questions, fuckers fight inflation,
support usury, and drive their stake deeper and
deeper, anything from the periphery dead, ignored,
or usually cast into something bad, then ceremonially
killed.

This is an interesting little fact, probably
a privacy issue too but something I feel like writing
about, you wanna be a public person than be prepared
for someone to challenge your sleight of hand,

and that's, extra pussy means extra babies with
differant women, and some of those women don't mind because
they are given money, a small trust; stuff
happening in Hollywood, out East too, hell, one of them raided
a charity to give cash (a future little comfortable habitat) to
his mistress, and their baby; stuff's cool, 'dude was paying her
off to remain silent,' pointing at this shell, when in reality,
fuck the charity, my baby's future is more important. If they
don't have the cash they need, because that is the only purpose
of money, just authority, command, over others, and of course,
the promise, "I did stuff right in the past, I'll, little
reincarnations,
will do stuff right morrow," then they'll get it like everyone
else who already has the cash.

Long long list too, white, black, brown, old strange man showed it to
me, kept it, just a record, among other records, because their stories
keep changing,
usually after the fact, some even don't give a fuck, humorous kinda,
sleeping for three months on a couch, nothing to do with one's
character,
with one's ability to lead, and dude's gonna get paid too, that's what
people want, cheat on your wife/husband isn't cheating on your
country,
children, God. One million copies, another statue to a great man,
another
million dollars to insure the right habitat for there little
reincarnations
so they can continue to grow in the full sun, everything else in the
shade
and stunted. Maybe ability is better, and not ability with props, that
includes, fall down, get another chance, fuck people over, still ok,
lots
of parties, cool. Only way for ability to rise, people to work towards
a fiery light, not for more and more ideas to be controlled by others
so they can
drive their stakes deeper and deeper all the time.

Don't know, maybe I be wrong for thinking pussy and babies not only
stuff that matters, but my baby is dead, soon I'll be dead too, some
hospital bed, the palliative treatment, not wrong, just strangers with
their own lifes, their own struggles, only want to try to bring life
to the ideas and thoughts that have kept me company while dimly alive
in the shade of the big tree with vines
running down its branches.

What does this interesting fact mean, nothing new, stuff been
happening forever,
maybe just not arranged this way, they arrange it the way they want,
pass it along, some dude signing copies of a book, another one jamming
in a rock band, another one just more discrete, all good, still alive,
reincarnations in the best spot to flourish, all someday dying with a
little twinkle in their eyes.
Kids being stunted, so kids with props can flourish, maybe not wrong,
beautiful world, three story houses, two pools, four cars, a cup of
tea in the garden, but
stuff changes, not gonna make life fair, people gotta take their
chances, to live, to love, just open the canopy a patch, just a patch
to a black sky, no
sunshine, no cocktail parties, no three shells and a pea.

1. Everyone knows men in group A can survive in group B but
men in group B don't survive in group B.

. . .

2. (a) a big plant with vines, choking everything else in (b)and
prevent anything from rising.

Blind, blind,

> that's the case, maybe the meaning of ?man' isn't needed either, just

> some instructions, thermodynamic, enforced with punishments or

> rewards and the ?meaning' of man shaped anyway to control others a

> little angry, maybe the hope is not with ?man'(won't be the first one

Bum

unread,

Jun 20, 2004, 2:05:34 AM6/20/04

frank_...@yahoo.com (Bum) wrote in message news:<e67cba1.04061...@posting.google.com>...
> frank_...@yahoo.com (Bum) wrote in message news:<e67cba1.04061...@posting.google.com>...
> > Whew,
> >
> > fuck it gonna play a game of hearts
> >
> >
> >
> >
> > Wet otter, bacon too ( 1998 JULY )
> >
> >
> >
> >
> >
> >
> > She watched the otter sleep on the concrete bank for a while. She
> > avoided going during the weekend, too many people, cameras, the lots
> > of them going home disappointed except for the shows every couple of
> > hours, a seal jumping thru a hoop, some fish tossed; they would have
> > better luck going to a natural history museum, animals framed
> > beautifully with native plants and rocks. Man, did she love going down
> > there when it was free and they didn't mind if you smoked. She would

> > go from habitat to habitat*, in one habitat, one animal shining, put in

*appendex

eeee ( 1992 AK )

<One way I write is to write something then layer it, enforce it,

whatever. This is another embankment, just got some free time, no one
around, and grudgingly decided to add to the story, not necessarily

continue, as in a serial, blog. Anyway, strange old man told me to

broaden my horizons, cover of darkness, spearhead the march, thousand
miles in, maybe they'll make the connection, maybe they won't. And all

to destroy their world, build ours, of course, if I wanted to be a

part of their world, I'd have put a shiny ornament around my neck and

not use any rubbers on my dick, except for that one time, didn't

matter after all, clever clever bitch, legs in the air and some salty
water took care of that. Easy really, she didn't know much about the
procedure, just that she wouldn't get stuck, and a couple of years
later, little older, clock past ten, and after some dude showed her
pictures of his other kids, they both fuck, right time of month, and
now has her precious baby girl. Woe to me now, for wanting to build

one better. 32, 16, 8, 4, 2, 1, then some gramps (80 y/o), with
another gramps ( 50 y/o ), on his lap, and yet another (25 y/o ) on

his, all in the same, grandma serving cold lemonade, all watching a

fiery light in a black black sky.>

"Don't let anyone tell you how to arrange
stuff, don't let anyone tell you the pea is
under this shell." strange old man in flip-flops,
( 1999 C.C. )

..
.. __________________________
..| (B) |
..| scrounging, both food, |
..| ________________ |
..| | (A) | |
..| | extra food, $$,| |
..| | extra pussy, by| |
..| |stratagemorforce| |
..| pussy, |
..|__________________________|
..
..

Also, (A) earned, doesn't matter when, just the important thing to
notice is
that the habitat is passed (estate, money,), same stuff continued, no
questions, fuckers fight inflation, oppose death taxes, support usury,

and drive their stake deeper and deeper, anything from the periphery
dead, ignored, or usually cast into something bad, then ceremonially
killed.

1. Everyone knows men/women in group A can survive in group B but men
in group B don't survive in group A, whole ship would sink.

. . .

2. (a) a big plant with vines, choking everything else in (b) and
prevent anything from rising.

This is an interesting little fact, old strange man told me to
spearhead long ago, probably a privacy issue too, but something I feel
like writing about now, just feel I have to keep writing, can't stop,
have to give life to these ideas, one, the stuff involves public
people, power people, much influence in the world, probably gonna get
me into trouble but if they wanted to be public people than they
should be prepared for someone to challenge their sleight of hand, and
twice, the people are like Legos, easy to cut and paste on film, their
real personal lives boring, them just sitting around, on a toilet,
eating, blind to tomorrow, and two, that extra pussy means extra
babies with
different women, and some of those women don't mind because they are
given a little cash money, a small trust; stuff happening in
Hollywood, out East too, hell, one of them, not the first, old swag,

raided a charity to give cash (a future little comfortable habitat) to
his mistress, and their baby; stuff's cool, 'dude was paying her off
to remain silent,' pointing at this shell, when in reality, fuck the

charity/cause, my baby's future is more important. This is just
another example of people putting their babies first, other stuff
comes second. Guy is still chilling, poster child and adulterating
stuff, smiling and thumbs up. If they don't have the cash they need,

because that is the only purpose of money, just authority, command,
over others, and of course, the promise, "I did stuff right in the
past, I'll, little reincarnations, will do stuff right morrow," then

they'll get it like everyone else who already has the cash, anyway
they can. Dude provided for his other woman, his other kid, raise a
glass, lets toast, dude even cried on
TV, more people like him around, world would be a better place.

"Harm comes to those who advocate change, and heroes built to oppose
that change; the seven seven expected some of them to dawn tights and
capes soon, 礎utt out of my personal life,' only that, 奏hen butt out
of mine, go away, fucking disappear, don't take my sunshine, a patch
to a black sky, and don't push your shit into mine, expecting me to
swallow it.'" old strange man replied, downing club sodas, to my
statement, "this stuff kinda dangerous."
Meet the old strange man, while bingeing Carta Blanca's south of
Brownsville, where he introduce me to his last wish, a thousand mile
march, right in to the daub center, two old men around a pregnant
bitch dancing on a table, hip-hop blasting, some waiter bringing
cocktails, the DJ sometimes cutting the record to a slow screech.
"Their bloody fucking personal lives like a drain,
nothing new ever comes out, just more drains, then they get mad,
someone wants to plug it up a little, release some sunshine to light a
patch to a black sky."'

humorous kinda, sleeping for three months on a couch, big man, because
I could, decide to, nothing to do with one's character, with one's

ability to lead, and dude's gonna get paid too, that's what people
want, cheat on your wife/husband isn't cheating on your country,

children, God. And so another
one million copies, another statue to a great man, another million

dollars to insure the right habitat for there little reincarnations so
they can continue to grow in the full sun, everything else in the

shade and stunted. "Cut and paste and way you want bubba, just don't
get mad I'll cut and paste the seven seven way. Fucking hypocrite, but
it isn't, one thing negates another, bodies ended up bumping, or a
body and a mouth, in the end, anything less just bunk, fun, not even
worth mentioning."

Maybe ability is better, and not ability with props, that includes,
fall down, get another chance, fuck people over, still ok, lots of
parties, cool. Only way for ability to rise, people to work towards a
fiery light, not for more and more ideas to be controlled by others so
they can drive their stakes deeper and deeper all the time.

Don't know, maybe I'll end up being wrong for thinking pussy and

babies not only stuff that matters, but my baby is dead, soon I'll be
dead too, some
hospital bed, the palliative treatment, not wrong, just strangers with

their own lives, their own struggles, only breathing, only want to try

to bring life to the ideas and thoughts that have kept me company
while dimly alive in the shade of the big tree with vines running down
its branches.

What does this interesting fact mean, one man, gutting an
organization, and another, leading one, nothing new, stuff been
happening forever, stuff even happens in smaller and smaller circles,
next door, or a stranger in an aisle at Wal-Mart, maybe just not
arranged this way, they arrange it the way they want, cut and paste,

pass it along, some dude signing copies of a book, another one jamming

in a rock band, another one just more discrete, sipping Earl Grey, but
still all good, still alive, reincarnations in the best spot to

flourish, all someday dying with a little twinkle in their eyes.

Other kids are being stunted, maybe you don't know that, Missy, dumb
down, so kids with props can flourish, maybe not wrong, your

beautiful world, three story houses, two pools, four cars, a cup of

tea in the garden, but stuff changes, maybe you'll keep it, maybe not,
not gonna make life fair, people gotta work to take their chances, to

live, to love, just open the canopy a patch, just a patch to a black
sky, no sunshine, no cocktail parties, no three shells and a pea.

And Missy, read some of the stuff you sent me, tears down your cheek,
the radish and rabbit, break-dancing for tips, and I'm not impressed,
the characters sucked, endings too, and besides rabbits don't like
radishes, carrots are better.

Blind, blind, spearhead a march to patch opening up to a black sky

Bum

unread,

Jun 21, 2004, 4:10:41 AM6/21/04

Constant craving ( 1992 – 2004 )

Wet otter, bacon too ( 1998 JULY )

hours, a seal jumping thru a hoop, some fish tossed, better luck going
to a natural history museum, stuffed animals framed beautifully with
native plants and rocks, and, believe it or not, stare long enough,
lights going out at a wax museum, sometimes one of them will stick
their tongue out at you. Man, did she love going down there when it
was free and they didn't mind if you smoked, the whole day, from dawn
to dusk, the ends only time some animals active. She would jump from
habitat to habitat*, in one habitat, one animal shining, but put in
another, dying; no fault, just some bones scattered around an empty

radius.
She would get angry sometimes, fucking caretakers getting the habitat
wrong, seldom wrong species plant, most of the time just excluding
some, too difficult to grow, cultivate, care for, or something. Los
Angles Zoo sucked, lotta concrete; St. Louis, a little better but the
cho-cho sucked; Dallas, new place better than where they use to keep
the poor chimps at: series of dark crampy rooms; Indy, dolphin, big

tank, least 200 feet deep, Atlanta, Willy B died, a baby orangutan;
Jacksonville, bridges over the sahara were cool; Brownsville, some

bitch complaining to the staff someone was smoking; El Paso, Carlsbad,
Phoenix, can't keep the lifeless sand out, she wanted to revisit, tell
them idiots to get the habitats right but she knew they wouldn't
listen, people came to see the creatures, not some plants, dumb rocks,
the climate. The otter lifted its head, a group of yappidy-yaps walked
by, then lower its head again. Her thoughts drifted, she moved from

forests to deserts in hours, to the artic all the way to the south
pole. She wrote in her notebook, right next to a drawing of a

centipede, "make the right habitat, of course some are going to shine,
others fail; some may even believe those who shine, shine all by
themselves, and those who fail, well," darkening the words, "fail all

by themselves." The otter disappeared under some foliage. "Harder and

harder to differentiate, one habitat here, one there, offspring
ensured to shine, another one being built, another one destroyed, just

in case. Or people fighting to keep a habitat, others fighting to
change one." She watched someone hand some dollar bills to the ice
cream vendor, turned because of a snap, and saw, between some rustling
bushes, one bipod following another, both soon lapping out of a water
hole, and further behind them, steppe incline a bit, one shrugging to
another, perishable. She walked over to the grizzlies, them pacing, at

least they didn't still sedate the poor animals anymore. "Back and
forth, back and forth. Right race, right pace, right grade, right

weight, anyone a winner, anyone a loser too" she wrote. "Big sprout a
winner on pavement, loser down at the beach." She started to draw a
black branch underneath the centipede, a branch still connected
somewhere, not yet broken off, but someday, almost lifted off the page
and up to space, one far day, just the centipede, nothing else, the
branch snapped. Later she left and got on the plane after one too
many.
Her ears hurt, always hurt, no pressure, just like she read about

up in
space. She wanted to leave the dumb planet, her habitat between the
pages of a book, the habitats that were being built by others for
their offspring alone, the habitats with the lifeless sand everywhere,

and go there, taking her chances, kinda like crossing the Pacific,
resting at an atoll, a desert, an oasis, no map, no turning back, but
her ears hurt, and she sensed if she was to go any higher, more and
more branches snapped, her brain would burst out of her head.

* footnote

eeee ( 1992 ADAK )

. . .

me into trouble but if they wanted to be public persons than they

should be prepared for someone to challenge their sleight of hand, and

twice, the people are like Legos, easy to cut and paste on paper,

their
real personal lives boring, them just sitting around, on a toilet,

eating, blind to tomorrow, and two, that extra $$, extra pussy means

extra babies with different women, and some of those women don't mind

because they are given a little cash money, a small trust, the habitat
that everyone is gonna honor because, right babies, cream always rises
to the top; stuff happening in Hollywood, out East too, little
kingdoms, security guards at the shack, hell, one of them, not the

first, old swag, raided a charity to give cash (a future little
comfortable habitat) to his mistress, and their baby; stuff's cool,
'dude was paying her off to remain silent,' pointing at this shell,
when in reality, fuck the charity/cause, my baby's future is more
important. This is just another example of people putting their

reincarnations first, other stuff comes second, and, if it sometimes
seems like they don't, usually have several reincarnations around,
sacrifice one, keep another one near. Guy is still chilling, poster

child and adulterating stuff, smiling and thumbs up. If they don't
have the cash they need, because that is the only purpose of money,
just authority, command, over others, and of course, the promise, "I
did stuff right in the past, I'll, little reincarnations, will do
stuff right morrow," then they'll get it like everyone else who
already has the cash, anyway they can. Dude provided for his other
woman, his other kid, raise a glass, lets toast, dude even cried on
TV, more people like him around, world would be a better place.

Simmers and doesn't go anywhere, couple of years ago, five thousand
years ago, only that, gonna strike first, patch to a black sky.

"Harm comes to those who advocate change, and heroes built to oppose
that change; the seven seven expected some of them to dawn tights and

capes soon, ‘butt out of my personal life,' only that, ‘then butt out

And so, what does this interesting fact mean, one man, gutting an

organization, and another, leading one, nothing new, stuff been
happening forever, stuff even happens in smaller and smaller circles,
next door, or a stranger in an aisle at Wal-Mart, maybe just not
arranged this way, they arrange it the way they want, cut and paste,
pass it along, some dude signing copies of a book, another one jamming
in a rock band, another one just more discrete, sipping Earl Grey, but

still all good, still alive, right habitat passed, reincarnations in

the best spot to flourish, all someday dying with a little twinkle in
their eyes.

Men like that built the world we all live in, hooray, the world where
their babies will flourish in the sunshine, and since babies don't
magically appear, but sometimes magically disappear, that means they
are their babies, don't need a textbook to put that together,
themselves forever in the sunshine, some ideas, other men, second
fiddle, and others in the shade forever. They want to live to give
themselves life, and anyone who wants to live to give ideas life,
choked out and in the shade.

Other kids, ideas, are being stunted, maybe you don't know that,
Missy, dumb
down, so special kids with props can flourish, maybe not wrong, your

beautiful world, three story houses, two pools, four cars, a cup of
tea in the garden, but stuff changes, maybe you'll keep it, maybe not,
not gonna make life fair, people gotta work to take their chances, to
live, to love, just open the canopy a patch, just a patch to a black
sky, no sunshine, no cocktail parties, no three shells and a pea.

Blind, blind, spearhead a march to a patch opening up to a black sky.

Some dumb honest parents around, trust and love, and even more blind,
don't need anyone to tell them that, no sunshine either.

late, turn light out

------------------------------------------------
------------------------------------------------

Black plastic bag

no ambiguities,

*AI, SPACESHIP: BABY

that's the case, maybe the meaning of ‘man' isn't needed either, just

some instructions, thermodynamic, enforced with punishments or

rewards and the ‘meaning' of man shaped anyway to control others a

little angry, maybe the hope is not with ‘man'(won't be the first one

WARNING:

[Breath normally for awhile]

<10 MINUTES PASS>

<10 SECONDS PASS>

<5 SECONDS PASS>

Misc./BIN:

won't notice

Fight, hyper

Scared, guilt, hypo

"Yeah, that too."

Red = 1

Black = 2

Green = 3

Blue = 4

White = 5

numbers

Lovely dumplings

[breath normally]

The end.

Seconds please

[breath normally]

The end.
_

Another idea. . .

LEGEND

Pecos river

--- ( 1X )

an echo, rocks crashing

Crawled back down

--- ( 1X )

scared

--- ( 1X )

Be dead soon

Night then

--- ( 1X )

No home

Already staked by others

Another semi passing

--- (1x)

black

I crawled back down

--- ( 4X )

Bum

unread,

Jun 21, 2004, 4:18:53 AM6/21/04

but that would be wrong, to Larry, child, some other ghosts, a kid,

they have also given me life, love, just want to give them life back,
always and forever.

Bum

unread,

Jun 21, 2004, 9:23:05 PM6/21/04

. Constant craving ( 1993 – 2004; 2077 )

.
_

Wet otter, bacon too ( 1998 JULY )

to dusk, the ends only time some animals active. She would jump from
habitat to habitat*, in one habitat, one animal shining, but put in
another, dying; no fault, just some bones scattered around an empty

radius. She would get angry sometimes, fucking caretakers getting the
habitat wrong, seldom wrong species plant, most of the time just
excluding some, too difficult to grow, cultivate, care for, or
something. Los Angles Zoo sucked, lotta concrete; St. Louis, a little
better but the cho-cho sucked; Dallas, new place better than where
they use to keep the poor chimps at: series of dark crampy rooms;
Indy, dolphin, big tank, least 200 feet deep, Atlanta, Willy B died, a

baby orangutan; Jacksonville, bridges over the sahara were cool;

Brownsville, some bitch complaining to the staff someone was smoking;
El Paso, Carlsbad, Phoenix, can't keep the lifeless sand out, she
wanted to revisit, tell them idiots to get the habitats right but she
knew they wouldn't listen, people came to see the creatures, not some
plants, dumb rocks, the climate. The otter lifted its head, a group of
yappidy-yaps walked by, then lower its head again. Her thoughts

drifted, she moved from forests to deserts in hours, to the artic all
the way to the south pole. She wrote in her notebook, right next to a

drawing of a centipede, "make the right habitat, of course some are
going to shine, others fail; some may even believe those who shine,
shine all by themselves, and those who fail, well," darkening the
words, "fail all by themselves." The otter disappeared under some

foliage. "Harder and harder to differentiate, one habitat here, one

there, offspring ensured to shine, another one being built, another

one destroyed, just in case. Or people fighting to keep a habitat,

others fighting to change one." She watched someone hand some dollar
bills to the ice cream vendor, turned because of a snap, and saw,
between some rustling bushes, one bipod following another, both soon
lapping out of a water hole, and further behind them, steppe incline a

bit, one shrugging to another, perishable. She walked over to the

grizzlies, them pacing, at least they didn't still sedate the poor
animals anymore. "Back and forth, back and forth. Right race, right
pace, right grade, right weight, anyone a winner, anyone a loser too"

she wrote. "Big sprout a winner on pavement, loser down at the beach."

She started to draw a black branch underneath the centipede, a branch

still connected somewhere, not yet broken off, but someday, almost
lifted off the page and up to space, one far day, just the centipede,

nothing else, the branch snapped. Later she left and got on the plane
after one too many.
.
Her ears hurt, always hurt, no pressure, just like she read about

up in space. She wanted to leave the dumb planet, her habitat between
the pages of a book, the habitats that were being built by others for
their offspring alone, the habitats with the lifeless sand everywhere,

more branches snapped, her brain would burst out of her head.

* footnote: .

eeee ( 1993 ADAK )
.

"Don't let anyone tell you how to arrange

. stuff, don't let anyone tell you the pea is

under this shell." strange old man in flip-flops,

. ( 1999 C.C. )

Also, (A) earned, doesn't matter when, just the important thing to

notice is that the habitat is passed (estate, money,), same stuff
continued, no questions, fuckers fight inflation, oppose death taxes,
support usury, and drive their stake deeper and deeper, anything from
the periphery dead, ignored, or usually cast into something bad, then
ceremonially killed.

1. Everyone knows men/women in group A can survive in group B but men
in group B don't survive in group A, whole ship would sink.

. . .

2. (a) a big plant with vines, choking everything else in (b) and
prevent anything from rising.

. . . .

me into trouble but if they wanted to be public persons than they

should be prepared for someone to challenge their sleight of hand, and

twice, the people are like Legos, easy to cut and paste on paper,

their real personal lives boring, them just sitting around, on a

toilet, eating, blind to tomorrow, and two, that extra $$, extra pussy

means extra babies with different women, and some of those women don't

mind because they are given a little cash money, a small trust, the

habitat that everyone is gonna honor because, right babies, cream

always rises to the top; stuff happening in Hollywood, out East too,
little kingdoms, security guards at the shack, hell, one of them, not

the first, old swag, raided a charity to give cash (a future little
comfortable habitat) to his mistress, and their baby; stuff's cool,
'dude was paying her off to remain silent,' pointing at this shell,
when in reality, fuck the charity/cause, my baby's future is more
important. This is just another example of people putting their

reincarnations first, other stuff comes second, and, if it sometimes
seems like they don't, usually have several reincarnations around,

sacrifice one, keep another one near. Guy is still chilling, poster

.
Simmers and doesn't go anywhere, couple of years ago, five thousand

years ago, only that, gonna strike first, patch to a black sky.

"Harm comes to those who advocate change, and heroes built to oppose
that change; the seven seven expected some of them to dawn tights and

capes soon, ‘butt out of my personal life,' only that, ‘then butt out

of mine, go away, fucking disappear, don't take my sunshine, a patch
to a black sky, and don't push your shit into mine, expecting me to
swallow it.'" old strange man replied, downing club sodas, to my
statement, "this stuff kinda dangerous." Meet the old strange man,
while bingeing Carta Blanca's south of Brownsville, where he introduce
me to his last wish, a thousand mile march, right in to the daub
center, two old men around a pregnant bitch dancing on a table,
hip-hop blasting, some waiter bringing cocktails, the DJ sometimes
cutting the record to a slow screech. "Their bloody fucking personal
lives like a drain, nothing new ever comes out, just more drains, then
they get mad, someone wants to plug it up a little, release some
sunshine to light a patch to a black sky."

And so, what does this interesting fact mean, one man, gutting an
organization, and another, leading one, nothing new, people getting
screwed over, killed, whatever, stuff been happening forever, stuff

even happens in smaller and smaller circles, next door, or a stranger
in an aisle at Wal-Mart, maybe just not arranged this way, they

arrange it the way they want, stage rotated, cut and paste, pass it

along, some dude signing copies of a book, another one jamming in a

rock band, another one just more discrete, sipping Earl Grey, no
sugar, and going around smiling, what the fuck you gonna do about it,
but still all good, still alive must be doing something right, and so,
right habitat passed, reincarnations in the best spot to flourish, all
someday the little twinkle in someone's eyes.

choked out, drowned out. And some men are just dead, humus for someone
else's little reincarnations.
.
Other kids, ideas, are being stunted, maybe you don't know that,
Missy, dumb down, so special kids with props can flourish, maybe not

wrong, your beautiful world, three story houses, two pools, four cars,
a cup of tea in the garden, but stuff changes, maybe you'll keep it,
maybe not, not gonna make life fair, people gotta work to take their
chances, to live, to love, just open the canopy a patch, just a patch
to a black sky, no sunshine, no cocktail parties, no three shells and
a pea.

radishes, carrots are better. .

Blind, blind, spearhead a march to a patch opening up to a black sky.

Some dumb honest parents around, trust and love, and even more blind,

barren scrape, wild animals forced into the city, don't need anyone to
tell them that, no sunshine either, all is not so preachy.

.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

.

Shit how the fuck do I piece this together, above, a tirade, habitats

passed, stuff the world sits on, from one gramps to another, ideas

plucked others discarded, and down below, feelings and man suck, just
used by gramps to ensure habitats passed right, fuck some easy women

too, and have some mules around to work, sometimes fight, spare time
jerking off in front of a monitor, watching stuff on TV, a donkey

heehawing to entertain them. And oh yeah, this stuff would have been
totally worthless, no flanges, only someone out to hurt other people,
big bad boogie man, scary crawling spider, but the stuff wasn't,
nothing even to do with people, individual people for that matter,
minds blank until someone puts a thought inside, just wanted to give

life to ideas that have given me life, just wanna give those ideas in
the shade a chance, those same ideas, only cause why some of us still
around, surely not because of love or man.

.
.

Maybe I should have done it differently, if I'm even doing now,

unintelligible crap, with a cheery smile, under someone's wing, but
that would have been wrong, to Larry, child, some other ghosts, a kid,

they have also given me life, love, just want to give them life back,

always and forever. ( 2077 )
. .
. .
. .
. . .
.
. . .
. . .
. .
. . . . .
. .
.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

.
Black plastic bag
.

Some memoir, the inspiration behind wet otter, bacon too, dredged from
a cold garage, a plug of Levi Garrett, a cup or two of chamomile, and
after listening to another otter breath, sometimes rattling a black
window, no light outside, a little too long, remembered/revisited:
"the late hour, reruns on TV, on mute, some other side, another
meridian, another play, same red curtain, doors slamming and someone
drunk cursing, a chick and suitcase getting in a car, a family of four
and a beach ball getting out of another, I am there and listening to
her breath, around nineteen ninety-six, maybe seven, Mesquite TX,
Motel 7, the old 6, in bed with some new sheets, a faint halo in its
center, a black plastic bag over both our heads, something else, I
still hear her, my hands holding hers, I love you, and sometimes, when
it's real quiet, pulse weaker, colder, I believe her and hear myself
tell her the same ( 2004 JUNE )."

_ .

no ambiguities,
.
*AI, SPACESHIP: BABY

that's the case, maybe the meaning of ‘man' isn't needed either, just

some instructions, thermodynamic, enforced with punishments or

rewards and the ‘meaning' of man shaped anyway to control others a

little angry, maybe the hope is not with ‘man'(won't be the first one

to think this), never to begin with either (won't be the last either),
only ideas and thoughts of the dead, because if man matters, all men
would have mattered, and that will never happen, just like it has
never happened in the past. I'll reach, fall with it too, only purpose
of man is to bring life to ideas and thoughts, not for ideas or
thoughts to bring life to man, usually the ideas or thoughts to bring

life to man, mean only some men. .

.
_

_
.

These are the blueprints to my ideas above, maybe I'll put some hack
in later.

These are compacted, no time to fully develop, little lazy too, but
concept the same, expanded easily, and, also, reveals, one of the many
stuff deduced, that end emotions and stuff connected to phenomenon are
sometimes controlled by, guess who, sometime by people that don't give
a fuck about other people, just themselves, their future, sometimes
that means playing dumb, other times way behind stuff, pulling
strings, plotting stuff, and any other time just killing people, or
getting people to kill for them, people usually in their way, them at
the dinner table, some catfish nuggets, soon full and a smile, later,
fucking and feeling alright about themselves, and the dead faraway,
dead never matter, and soon forgotten.

Have someone recite this text to you in a dark and quiet room; be like
guided imagery, or learn the art of storytelling and record the text,
or just memorize it, the best way if you ask me.

Again this is to demonstrate that feelings are worthless, feelings are

Just used by other people for their own personal purposes, malignant

or
benign. Sometimes you'll meet people with honest feelings, people
usually young and dumb, but meet those same people after some time,
they'll have turned cold, calculating, ruthless. They'll only care
about themselves, their experience, and whoever happen to be there,
chilling. Just a fact, older someone gets, more they'll have to take
that into account. Anyway, if the way endings are felt can be changed
this easy, then endings don't need man, don't need their feelings
either, which leads me to this, then some endings, a fiery light, are
surely not worth any less.

WARNING:

THIS IS SUBTLE, NO WHERE NEAR THE POWER OF USING OTHER ALTERNATES,
PAIN AND BLOOD LETTING MINE, BUT JUST IN CASE, POSITION YOURSELF
SAFELY: FLAT, PRONE, RECOVERY POSITION, MAYBE HAVING SOMEONE NEAR TO
GET YOU HELP IN CASE THERE IS AN ERROR; THIS EXERCISE JUST TO LIGHT A
CORNER, MAN AND FEELINGS SUCKS, YOU REALLY WANNA TRIP, WAIT TILL
YOUR IN YOUR EIGHTIES OR SO.

Wetted beaver with Cola 2

[Breath normally for awhile]
.

<10 MINUTES PASS>

[increase your breathing for one minute, 18 < x < 37]

<10 SECONDS PASS>

You're running free and happy, jumping on white clouds, over mountain
and stuff, tingling cool all over.

[slow, shallow breathing now for one minute, 10 < X < 16]

<5 SECONDS PASS>

Shot down. You're hiding somewhere, alone too; someone strange is
passing; mind a little cloudy, some sweat, you guess death; you look;
you guessed right, surely not anything like the tooth fairy.

[breath normal for thirty minutes, relax]

You're back, safe and sound, and maybe if you think hard enough, maybe
guess, that if you really try, practice, making yourself feel anything
you like, you'll discover probably you'll be right too, at least until
you eventually die, the otter break-dancing over some spilt C2 and
yummy oysters, under a hot night, the Flamingo somewhere, another
quarter, 1845-2004 Florida, and another progressive jackpot just
missed. E PLURIBUS UNUM

Misc./BIN:

Breath rapid, a fight or fuck, maybe just happy

Breath slow and shallow, maybe you think death passes, maybe someone

won't notice

Fight, hyper

Scared, guilt, hypo

Mind gets a little cloudy, you'll be right

And if you'll, you'll be right again

And maybe if you try, you can make yourself feel anyway you like,

_
.

Another artifact, thought about colors, words, numbers, and feelings.

"oh yeah, that's the way it was supposed to make you feel."

"Shh, thought just something that got someone wet."

"Yeah, that too." .

"Whatever makes a chick roost, long time ago a stick, now, a hearty

meal and something pretty to stare at."

Red = 1

Black = 2

Green = 3
.
Blue = 4

White = 5

Dumb portrait of the word super-soaker, in a desert, in five

numbers

------------------------------------------------------
5 1
2 5

4
3 2
1

5
-------------------------------------------------------

This makes me feel so terrible, first time someone thought of

women like this. Guess they'll lump me next to the abusers, the
ones in pornography, brothels, whatnot, hell, maybe they'll even
lump me next to some dead beat fathers. But women are easy target
but not that easy as people think, prides, cubs, protected by a lion,
nonetheless, attacking the lion ( archetype ), lion's pride same
thing, just in fun, otherwise I'll be dead, thank God the 77, patch
covered with too many thorns (2005 SEPT).

Ok, whew, now for the examples:

The usually way stuff happens. . .

Lovely dumplings

[breath normally]

You meet someone cool. You like. . .

[increase breathing, 18 < X < 37]

You both do cool stuff together.

[breath normally]

Both of you die at the same time happy.

The end. .

.
Seconds please .

[breath normally]

You meet someone cool. You like. . .

[increase breathing, 19 < X < 35] .

You both do cool stuff together.

[slow, shallow breaths for a minute or so, 9 < X < 17]

Both of you die at the same time happy.

The end.
_

Doubt even one would do this on purpose, but this is just reveal
something, that endings can be manipulated, period, a lot of times by
forces set in motion by others.

_
.

another idea,

Just read this while feeling your pulse;

The black riptide
( 1997, summer at Venice beach,
meet some chick that wanted me
to buy her breakfast, bought her
the C. Castaneda one, later that
night chick dined on steak and
gravy. )

.
Splash, splash, the
water splashed, he
thought he heard the
girl cry; weep, weep,
the girl wept, he thought
he heard she call for
him; swash, swash, the
boy drowned, he heard
the laughing girl shout.

Now read it backwards; then forwards again, skipping every other word;
then backwards, skipping two words; then forwards, skipping every
three words, on and on.

any question, of course not

Another idea. . .

LEGEND

This is the marker that you'll use to control the rate of your

breathing, ( --- ). So each time you see this marker you should breath
one time. The pace will be space, amount of time it takes you to read
the text.

Breath naturally, no depth involved ( 1X )

Coordination, maybe need to practice

Skyscraper, firewalker, some vultures

underneath the U.S. 90 bridge above the

Pecos river

--- ( 1X )

--- ( 1X ) .

--- ( 1X )

Slipped thru the chain linked fence, climb some stairs, and balanced
myself on a metal beam

--- ( 1X )

Some creature was down below, looked like a otter, brown, something

an echo, rocks crashing

Crawled back down

--- ( 1X )

scared

--- ( 1X )

Be dead soon

Just like if as I was never born

A semi passing over head, the bridge trembled

Night then .

--- ( 1X )

Just as I was never born, I'll be dead

No home

Already staked by others

Another semi passing

--- (1x)

Slipped thru the chain linked fence, climb some stairs,
and balanced myself on a metal beam

black

I crawled back down

--- ( 4X )

I know I'll soon be dead soon just like as if I was never born

Breath normal, not aware, don't care, just don't expect me to, slow
and shallow, tonight, tomorrow, all the way to the grave, always and
forever.

.
Frank Greene Fowlkes

14 June 04
.

_
.
93028 84786 39485 38847 7 . 19038 4

93284 98957 02029 02944 83824

03928 82743 49486 90982 45921 .

04969 27477 29472 82745 06832

82742 92841 94004 82552 93281 .
38475 39485 28372 18327

.
.
. . .
. . . .
. . .
. fiery light .
.
. .
. .
.

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