Tapping this intro to Snoz, part 3, as I walk on the treadmill. Yesterday I walked 10 miles, again while mostly playing poker, but also watched the teen vampire show The Originals, spinoff of the vampire show Vampire Diaries, a show that a dear old friend of mine works on.
2 day streak: 10+ miles walking.
The streak of this blog, which is just a week old or so, that's a streak.
Below is the old material. From near the end of my David Markson phase. It was difficult to resist editing, cuz it's a bit raw, a bit self indulgent, but then again this is a blog.
Eventually I plan on folding these Snozberries into a melange type book thing, vaguely lifelogging monkey record style, hence my insistence on vomiting it up heh-uh.
***
the 3 greatest mysteries of my life,
in cryptic short descriptive form
1 - the calcified corpuscle/slash/scar on my arm, or was it a cig butt some asshole relative ashed on me
semi colon
2 - the bug that seemed to emerge from my urethra one night after janking off
3 - the wild horses i saw running out of the wall, i’m told due to the flu
"this is not a novel"
floccinaucinihili--
possibly having everything to do with the sort of motivation behind
someone like Bartlebooth
someone like me for that matter
the hollowness is intense when i don’t have my preferred *insert*insert*.
in the afterglow of *insert* that is to say during & after,
sometimes even before,
(sometimes even before is the best kind - when you know *it’s* coming)
like
you’re in the pew, & the priest emerges from the sacristy,
or the vestibule or wherever he rapes the kids
& before you know it
you’ll be caught up in the
transubstantiation
jesus’s body & blood’ll all be turned into tasty unleavened bread
& wine, wee
both free btw
remembering joking with the other altar boys/slash/rape prospects back in the day
about the fat kids wanting to go up for seconds
at communion
& kneeling hurts btw
it hurts just thinking about it
one of the only times I think about god is when I think of how I once defied him (?) to allow me to ever love & be loved by a woman again.
it sorta rubbed off on the general population (?)
i don’t really see all that many folk.
nor do i want to.
nor do they/slash/you, for that matter
not that i wouldn’t be the nicest person in the world
if you happen to be in my elevator
or happen to need a door open
if i happen to be out
happenstance
going where, exactly?
9 days, but i’ve gone longer before.
way longer.
at least 111 days one time.
but it never got any better
even when it got to be where i didn’t think of *insert*
to didn’t even want it really
but life had nothing but other *inserts*
to pick from
turned into watercolor paintings once again.
apropos of nothing.
& then
& then
&then
sheet.
a pristine blank white sheet.
apropos of nothing.
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