sometimes you get weird messages, and...

sometimes you get weird messages, and sometimes you have to attempt to respond even more insanely then they did.

why?
sometimes i purposefully go out of my way to respond to something as abstractly as possible.  i have been trying desperately lately to not go on tangents and to try to speak less, but in the process it has made me become more articulated with my writing.  i've made the tangents come back through the form of messages.  these messages are bizarre, possibly cryptic and confusing, but possibly the most "i might be losing it" kinds of responses that i could have never dreamed of achieving within my lifetime.  it is like i've finally become burroughs or thompson in the sense of "kind of finally going off the crazed end of your existence."  not really the "i did too many horse tranquilizers and ended up in pennsylvania" kind of thing.  you got it?  i think you got it.

so here we go.

the message i received:


i see you in the ground and i miss digging you up. i am lost and
falling falling falling from the tree you anchor to the crust of our
earth back to the soil and inside of it I will bury myself for some
time im hiding from my inward to find my inward. i suppose i have seen
and attempted foolish things stories and travels of fools all selfish
and vain all everything and nothing all and all. where is your soul
mine is on this fair ride like a pirate ship that swings back and forth
the kind that make only two year olds and grandmothers sick. i ate to
many candy cottons and hotdogs and ears of elephants and i think the
gravatron is going to suck me into a black hole. azp my brain is gone.
im
sorry if i ever offended you. i am a neglectful selfish sun i hate
realizing im a moon and not a moon but just some dust and hardly that.
i play this song in my head non-stop and my teeth gnash back and forth
with anxiety to play some play and dance some dance. I will be again in
my humble rock home far from your steel city. but we should meet up
somehow and time some time some rhyme and songs of stars and earth. i
know that steel and rock are the same, everywhere i am is here and here
is there so it wont be hard but i am poor i have been a street boy for
the past four months eating of the insects and sleeping on the paved
stretches of walkway. what are you of who and we of they. i miss
knowing of your whoa and why i have as i said been of the streets and
not drifting the sea information much so i know not of the i in the you.






my response:
hello there rhinestone cowboy,
i am glad you have spoketh with thee
on the hamster wheel driven space machine. your rhymes were fat like a
sister act sequel, and that shit hasn't been spoken for since 1994.

hiding
your inwards for your outwards will create a nine inch nails album. it
is almost like the end to the beginning to the end. i'm pretty sure
when you get to the bottom there is a magical wizard waving his
tentacle arms to you screaming, "you can't hug with nuclear arms!" boy,
that guy is an asshole.

i went to an electronics shop filled
with untouched items dating back clear since 1960. the man behind the
counter spoke barely above a whisper, and his eyes shifted from the
cash register to a large plasma screen television across the way
blaring fox news. they kept talking about the economy, and the man
seemed to be sucked in to the over-dramatic representation of how some
rich douchebag believes he understands the lifestyles of middle class
americans.

your danceafied jangly walk is brilliant. we should
keep in touch. as the great stephen fry says, "all people are generally
ignorant." my brain is a frying pan filled with the pancakes that have
yet to fully form.

rock over london, rock on chicago,

holly johnson

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sometimes i like to believe that i am an undercover spy or that i have the ability to randomly become some sort of secret agent within some secret organization that i created in an afternoon at blimpies over a delicious blimpie's best.  i would be consuming the sandwich with delight and i would randomly start laughing with one of those manipulative "i just fucked a politician" kinds of laughs and calculating out these brilliant plans over a large 22X36 sheet of paper with a compass and one of those psychic 8 balls.  that would be the television show in the making...starring david hyde pierce, of course.