Leave me a Note, Damn It!
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2002-01-04 - 7:41 p.m.


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"THIS WILL BE WHAT WE SAID!"

Mixed entry tonight.

Let's get the yah over with...

YAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

I'm gonna be published!

YAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

My very own book. My own poems. My own words, lifeblood, thoughts ripped from my head to my paper. It's gonna be copied over and over, bound and sold and it's finally gonna happen.

I jsut don't know when.

I got the acceptance letter tonight from the publisher Mike over at FootHills Publishing and you may soon see a copy (well if you know me�this isn�t like a multi-million dollar deal) of my book �Ring Infinite� actually pressed and everything.

Oh god.

On a booooo note.

I had to work today. With a fever still.

Suck suck suck suck suck suck suck suck suck suck suck!

At least I had the solice of the Internet, the bastardized advertisement shewhore she is.

But seriously, I hate being sick. Being sick must be what it feels like to be old and being old and sick must really suck.

Of course, there�s only one cure for being old.

They�re called bullets.

My head was spinning all day like a circus carosel, with music playing from the speakers from the computers. Each note shooting into the air and embedding like a hot point into my head as I filed more useless papers. The whole world made about as much sense to me as the end of the first �Clerks� tv show episode�

�Everybody disco dancing�big man whip us, we are slaves��

And the whole time I watched the clock laugh at me as I tried to do work to kill it, but to no avail. I couldn�t take it. I was pissed at the wreck of a person this illness had made me. I could hear every enemy I�ve ever made, every foe I�ve ever bested, every single ex-girlfriend or extinguished flame, everyone who ever turned me down or pushed me down laughing at the sorry sad sick ball of pathetic loser I had become because of this sickness, coughing all importance out into napkins like phlegm.

And then Rendevous by the Basement Jaxx came on the radio.

Well, the Internet radio.

I remembered getting a vinyl single of the song somehow from WJUL in Lowell. By now it is all scratched up, from when I figured my 4 year old needle was finally done with and I started playing with it like a turntable. I wished I used a different record, like Chicago or something, because then I�d have done some good to humanity.

Chicago isn�t good for anyone.

Then I heard a remix of the song �white, discussion� by Live and my brain fucking flipped. I thought maybe someone slipped a �happy pill� into the company advil stash or something, because I heard the words and my head opened up inside as they spoke out to every aggression I�ve had lately.

White, Discussion

I talk of freedom

You talk of the flag

I talk of revolution

You'd much rather brag

And as the decibels of this disenchanting discourse

Continue to dampen the day

The coin flips again, and again, and again, and again

As our sanity walks away

All this discussion

Though politically correct

Is dead beyond destruction

Though it leaves me quite erect

And as the final sunset rolls behind the Earth

And the clock is finally dead

I'll look at you, you'll look at me

And we'll cry alot

And this will be what we said

This will be what we said!

Look where all this talking got us baby!

It�s made so much sense for the past few months. I saw a documentary on MTV the other night when my fever hit back up to 101.8 and I was delerious and it dealt with how we just kind of gave up on the �PC� movement. Everything nowadays is all about hate, like Eminem and all the gangsta rappers.

IT made so much sense. I never noticed PC disappear.

It must have disappeared like Nicole Simpson�s murderer, or like Chandra Levy. It must have been covered over like presidental sex scandals or The Ramses household. We stopped caring about people�s feelings. You hear bitch, nigger, fag, ho, cunt, asshole, jew�all sorts of terrible words all over TV, Movies, the radio, MTV, the paper, in conversation� we were so busy trying to �make the world a better place, for you and me� that you didn�t notice Michael fucking children. The aggressions we pushed down seemed natural. They first were shocking, like Marilyn Manson and we booed and hissed and whatnot and then we bought his shit to find out what we were fighting against and realized it spoke somewhere in our PC body. We tried to eliminate true evil �for the children�, not realizing it�s too sterile for them to handle and then Woodstock burns down.

And the war�fuck the war. We�re not fighting a war, we�re issuing an asswhooping. If you heard a big loud bang, you�d maybe flinch, and go �WOAHMYGOD!� and that would be the end of it�not run for cover and seek shelter. We feel �terrorized� because some asshole got a few lucky shots off, so now I can�t take a plane.

GOOOOOD! STAY HOME AND SPEND SOME TIME WITH YOUR FAMILY! IF WE�RE SUPPOSED TO BE AT WAR, ACT LIKE IT! DON�T GO SKIPPING AROUND THE GLOBE!

Take a train, take a bus, go buy a car, ride a bike, make your own plane.

Fuck, since it�s invention, people haven�t wanted to get on planes. Wilbur told Orville Wright to go fuck himself, I can guarantee it.

We are not at war. We live in a country where there are actually DIET PLANS and BUFFETS! You know what a Afghanistan buffet probably is? The goat shits before you kill it, so now you get a warm dessert.

Ok, that was way off, but still, this being thrown around like we�re doing this great justice, while meanwhile that whole country is getting blown to shit. A lovely countryside with generations of history, beautiful mountain tops, lovely acres of� wait, no, it�s a big fucking crater now because we�re assholes.

Its not who strikes first that makes an asshole, it�s who strikes biggest.

It�s like if David and Goliath was going on, but in this version, Goliath had a bazooka hanging from his belt and David was already famished.

About �White, Discussion�, I don�t care who or how or where or what. I have to cover this song before I die, even at the sake of karaoke. That shit�s badass.

So in short (or long, or schlong BOIIIIIIIING!) I had an extremely extreme day and my mind is gonna fall out of my nose now.

BMC

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