This girl who ought to be my girlfriend keeps not talking to me even though I know she wants to.  It's like she's waiting to have the right pair of shoes on or something.  Every day I spend a long time sitting with my computer just, like, looking at it and trying to figure things out.  Yesterday I figured out this girl has a ton of hair inside her body.  Like animal fur, but inside out.  I figured out her blood is different.  It goes around itself instead of going all around her body.  Her blood is only interested in blood, it doesn't care it has a job to do.

A big family of cats or just a group of them always hangs out by these trash cans in the alley downtown.  I guess they like to eat garbage, which to me is like saying “No” to good food altogether.  Sometimes when I walk by I'll give a big shout and the cats stop dead in the middle of whatever.  The flies there never stop, though.  It's like the cats all of a sudden have to obey a different gravity.  This always makes me feel empty, like a spy who finds out everything then forgets how to talk and write.

Sometimes I like to make a sound like I'm really an animal.  What's weird about sounds is they have no body.  That just means when I make a sound it doesn't stay alive very long.  Mostly I think about this when I'm in the forest and it starts getting too quiet, like when an old person falls asleep in the middle of telling you something.

Whenever I try to read a book I feel like a guy trying to walk on two broken legs.  That's why the radio is the best.  You can just listen to whatever words you want and skip everything else.  It doesn't matter.  In summer, I like to lay there and count how many times a fly lands on me while I listen.

Listening to the radio for too long makes my ears feel dirty.  Like my ears are some building filled with moldy books.  I'm tense.  I wish I had someone else's head.  Someone with clean ears, maybe someone who hasn't ever heard a radio before.  Yesterday I found a round rock and put it in my mouth.  I spit it at a vein in my arm, but nothing happened.

There's a place I like to go sit in the dirt and talk to myself.  It's near a pond which, to me, is the same as saying “It's nowhere.”

I decided I'm going to make a whole new set of laws.  My plan is to write them on a rock and put the rock somewhere no one will see it.  I guess if they're real laws, everyone will follow them anyway, even if no one really knows what they are.

It's stupid to keep secrets.  If you forget a secret, it's like a part of yourself goes missing.  That's a waste.  Instead of keeping secrets, I like to go into a trance and try to imagine what's living inside my leg.  The outside of the leg is kind of coarse and fuzzy.  Fuck it, I feel hyper.  I'm going outside to throw some pebbles.

I wish I was an anarchist or something so a girl would kiss me.  Getting kissed is like getting punched, only the fist is like a soft shadow.  When I get kissed it feels like all the liquid inside my body crackles.  Like all my cells are bouncing balls or something.  I want to walk into a room and a girl who wants to kiss me is already there.  I could think about this all day.  The sun's setting and I'm looking at my finger.  It looks okay.  I'm not hungry enough, but if I was, I could probably eat it.  My heart always gives a little jump when I think about stuff like that.

Every time I see a naked girl in a picture, I can't help staring.  Mostly I stare at her face and her chest.  Then I start to feel really heavy, like the air weighs too much or there's not enough stuff inside me to stay in my real shape anymore.  One way I make myself feel better is setting fire to a book.  I like to light the underside first and watch the flames crawl through the top so it looks like the fire is coming from inside the book and it's burning itself.  That's how the sun works, too, I guess, except the sun keeps giving birth to itself while the book just dies.
 

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