My mouth

Anyway, my mouth. You feel the top of my mouth? The ridge that runs from somewhere in the middle to a little further down than that is growing. My head is going to fall apart and Doctor who will have to fix me.

He’s made for America. Consumption umption.

I wanted to keep writing so that the words would get faster. They stand in the way right now and it all feels very forced. I had so many thoughts before but they get stopped up when I see a screen. Even when I scribble in all speed and haste it’s nowhere near fast enough to get an authentic code of feeling. I scratch my forehead and wipe my eyes. Sniff sniff.

So anyway I thought I’d write down what comes to me as it comes. I don’t like to fit it all into a frame or conversation because conversations with this sort of thing have no frame. I see how people speak. The words don’t matter it’s that we can pretend to hear each other.

And that feels like the first round. Tomorrow I burn parliament in my grief. I cry but no-one answers. Mmmmm. That’s

“Calm down.”

“I am calm.”

“Dude calm down.”

“I AM CALM! DON’T YOU THINK TELLING ME TO CALM DOWN IS PART OF THE PROBLEM?!”

“Cool yourself.”

“AAAAAARGH!” “No you’re right I should calm down.”

“Why the change of heart?”

“Oh don’t start this again.”

“Start what?”

“Aggravating me.”

“I think you aggravate yourself.”

“Yeah well you don’t help.”

I thought about keeping the spelling mistakes. Next time maybe. Hmmm. Socialism.

There’s always tomorrow.

I should have been addicted to drugs. That would be more fun.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s