i hope you all had a lovely christmas (if that's the sort of thing you're into.)
I was the second coming of Christ, wrapped in tin foil, with breasts. I warned all men and women to AVOID placING me in any of those newfangled Microwave machines, cos I might just send out sparks that enlighten the heart of mankind. I tried to persuade them kindly to leave their lives of aesthetic sin, aesthetic debauchery, and let the magic-- Ya know the shiny stuff-- take over with in. I wanted the world to be full of creation, sprinkled all over with glitter and gems. The world didn’t like any of that. The world was far more comfortable with the dull dim beige reality that they knew so well. Distortions of perception were far more easier to put in place, than any attempt to change their bristling ugly hells. Instead they whispered my name under their breath in the most harrowing times of adversity. It was to invoke a power from prayer and it failed consistently. They were left with their troubles in rusty tin cans, to pour out, count over and consider. Even when denied a miracle they held their faith, they said it was all “in his plan.” Their faith was fool’s gold. The real stuff could be found elsewhere, but they didn’t know that. They could never know that. I was a drunk, a prostitute, a destitute, a hobo vagrant cunt-liking, dick-sucking fiend. I was the village idiot with dirty fingernails and a tooth (or two) missing in the front. No one would take me for a messiah. Not with this tin foil dress, not with this saran wrap hat, not with this newspaper valise. I let the world continue it’s descent and did odd-jobs for money. Papa didn’t pay my rent. I worked as a waitress… and all the while moonlit as a prostitute. Occasionally I’d fill in for Big Debbie at some hamburger joint, flippin’ patties, the grease so thick that it would seep into your pores. I was a perilous woman, a tiring woman. I was there the day the earth fell to ruins. all the trivial belongings of mankind turned to smoldering ash. It meant nothing to them on the day of the final judgment. They all went to hell, none gaining entrance to the Kingdom. Ah, but papa said “honey honey, you can bring one guest yes’m just one guest so choose wisely.” And I choose Big Debbie of course, because Big Debbie always had my back. I was pleased to leave that dreadful place, yes I was, I was grateful to be home.
HI I HAve SLEPT FOR 14 hours and dreamed a dream of roller skating down ashlan avenue to blackstone. i tried to persuade my sister to lemme buy her rollerskates off of her for a fair price but she resisted my offer. then there was a mirror or something. the other night i had a dream all human beings were fat (i was fat too.)
HI I Have slept FOR 14 hours. what have you done with your life???
'honey, why can't you just like the sweet goodhearted handsome boys?'
'i'll tell ya why i can't like them... i can't like them because i'm a
fool. i can't like them because i can never like a person who sees me
as wonderful and sectacular and all that. i don't even see myself as all that... we'd have nothin'
in common. somebody who despises me.. now there is someone i can relate
to.'
'come on now! here is a boy who would be good to you, who is a
beneficial opposite to you, and you aren't even gonna give him a
chance?'
'i'm afraid not... i haven't before and i don't think anything's gonna
change this time around. I want a miserable little fool like myself.
now what's that cliche...'
'ah, but you know that doesn't quite work out either, don't it?'
'nope. looks like i'll never be the sorta gal to carry on a healthy relationship.'
'now, now, you are just being a defeatist!'
'sure, but it's a helluva lot better than being an optimist. optimists
set themselves up for failure and when they fall, they fall hard.
they put everything on such a high platform that the drop is
devastating. you place your aspirations on low ground.. well, you
hardly feel the fall at all. In fact, things can turn out better than
you expected.'
'well, if you are in accordance to that view then you really are not
excluding the sweet goodhearted handsome boy.. you're just not
expecting for him to live up to your expectation of him being a sweet goodhearted handsome boy.. am i correct?'
'you could be,'
'that's good news. things may work out then, right?'
'possibly, but i am not putting any bets on it.'
'oh, that's right... because you are a defeatist.'
'sure. if you say so.'
'oh. i understand now.'
'good.'
Odetta passed away last week.
I witnessed the inception of a new terrible new epoch and in response gave a few brisk intakes of breath because i did not know what else to do... truly, truthfully, i did not know what else to do. my hands were bound and strapped to a metal pinning in the valley floor and i was capable only of an effervescent ..effort. real shiny, real purdy, real important. I stepped on a stolen soapbox and said, 'gather round, come one come all, watch the debilitating unpardonable offenses that life brings to the table: sex, a digestive tract full of feces and the saddest contemplations of man." the crowd bowed down and crowned me their king. i said, 'thank ya, thank ya but i think i'll pass... maybe in my next life.'
AND THEN THE NEXT THING YOU KNOW is...
you heinous harlequins who have discovered my coffee haven...you will pay! ZOUNDS!!!! YOU WILL PAY!
back to the teazers you go. shoo shhoo!
and, of course, shitty drawing i did with work kiddie crayons:
once again, i am confronted by the fact that i have been "taken over by the enemy."
'jesus, i pray that you show yourself to her/'
i feel sick. sick. sick. sick. worse than before.
AMelia, the queen of the skies
unfinished, because b&n closes too early. so, have you heard about that book Twilight featuring a storyline composed of two young vampires falling in love or something? i bet it is terrible,
done in a hasty rage last night. kinda ugly hahahahahahahahaha