THIS IS NOT BLANK...

by Robert Lindberg

8-27-05

Gather your best droogs cuz its on for the house in which the matter that befuddles man and ahs been for the long centuries gone to come work around their horses and all hte kings men that wouldn’t go round about ‘bout it again so the swollen carcasses that lie befolded amongst tonge of man lay serpent to those in which faith hath bestowed upon the righteous forth continuum into the great leap void truthem be hackled into slaying some sort of beast within me. 

Go to your workers and sacrifice the weakest lamb fledgling into the mouth of great and Holy sadness but hte lambn will not find intself sad; it will not find itself fadden or intimate or long gotten in those who have acted agaist it. For those to sin and sin again it must take mass whords of locks on chains that are swinging round forth-right into the wagons of lag person right snathicng bagels from the dairymen in and out on their farms to the kingdom valley at the end where their fields lead to and speed to the Hell’s gate entrapment by force for ot all things I love, I want a divorce; I could leave evrything behind as it all comes down inthe shackles and chains that divide me from hope of ever feeling the same again...

And by the same, I mean in this tragedy of a Hell-hole by which I have no voice on what is up or down, all I can do is whisper and drink water and apple juice and take shots in the ass by a greater or weaker force by which I do not know what but does my life suck? Does the ass that slain hide the dagger go rusty? Do the Heavens speak down on the crown of man for that which man does not listen and also for which I am and have been listening more intently than ever before now this moment ahead of me by kingdom come; let them come. Amen.

They boast, they creak, all in the means of their killing of being on their way to the war between centuric universes falling hard into the galapsal form of the works that mass intreague [muelty] hath develop for the lands of sands over grands do not halo over shotting some other random figure in the skull when they are delivering theri up right and begone speech opportunistiticity appointing impeachment for the whole government to lay rest and give forth the doctrine of anarchy and PAIN! DO YOU NOT GROW FORM PAIN! DO YOU! DO YOU NOT WELCH INTHE PAIN THAT ONE SINGS OUT INTO YOUR PULSED VEINS! DO YOU NOT ACT ON THE REPOIRTOIR VENGEANCE THAT SEEKS OUT THE VERY SOUL OF AN IMPOSTER AND LEAKS HIM DOWN TO THE DEPTHS OF MAN’S MOVING MACHINE OF DE-STROY... DE-STROY... DE-STROY THE REBIRTH OF THE LANGUAGE “MANKIND”

Okay. Now I can picture it. It is like looking through a thick rainforest, pulling back some leaves and seeing a long and complex hallway of metal, like the inside of the death star, [the inside is machine but the outside is living rainforest!!!] the machine is taking over the living, cold gray surfaces bolted onto one another as they come together to be with each other, man [plants, earth] & machine...

And if all goes well, do I fall to my feet and recognize, or actually, realize; even’ to recongnize that I am one with the night sky and the stars, so infathomably far away, seem to be my home even though it is day?

By what fall to the gorund hath I lay sound on to doom it’s way back to the surface of leaky postures and informatic logic bestowed away witht he knowledge of birth and Christ and Judism egg-nog counting onthe gate to reopen and spill it’s filth like the mud storm that folows the angellic visitation but this would rather come before “the Christ” even presents Himself to the land and people of the Father, Amen.

Have you seen my been-derek? I seem to have lost the lost and found on my own way to church that I found once when obliviated from the feilds that cast me here long, long ago in a time when the people did not know their Saint was among the few of them [population = less than a million] and they did not even acknowledge what at best to make of their situation. In one hand they have “the book.” And what I mean by “the book” is that if they learned how to use it, not just rip out the pages and re-word everything and spread it out all over the land between ocean alone in the sanctuary by itself, they could actually become one with not only themselves, but Maker, Creator, etc. In the other hand they have me. I may seem useless right now, but I’m drinking milk, and someday, when He calls on me and I “get my wings back” so to say, form 11 to 1 I will be seen inlightened that the pond’s recovery may so land it back on it’s feet. Back to what I was saying, ont he ohter hand, they have me. I am not Jesus Christ nor am I near the perfectness that Jesus H. Christ was at, but I feel there needs to be a second becoming, a second little mishap in hte life line time line bull sit such as little as I am in the forces of the world but as big as I am in the doubts of the sanity I unfold on each hour, each minute, GODDAMN my concentration is a little bit weary and deary to me is the magical sound of my poor little black doggy snoring on the foot of the bed. God do I miss that feeling of his little warm body leaned on and against my legs, keeping me snug and safe from the madmen hanging their broken hands over my bed and almost touching my face to the point where I get goose pimpled bumps on my eyes as they lay under my lids but I can sense the evil dead dingering there int he darkness. Had I looked up, one broke where a finger was would poke me in the eye!!!

father...

is my time up...

have I been forgiven...

The subtle triangle that hangs in my mind is the pyramid that gives me energy and keeps my milk fresh even thought it has been left out on the table for a week.

Bury that wall trip in the sand with terror tears and backhanded slashes.

I wish there was some way to make them see hwat bad they’ve done and beg for forgiveness at such a times.

Sucka times...

Sucka times...

Is that at once shall I said be done gone with the time the back draft of a pun shone down strong from the sighted gone light of a wrongly injected freedom line green to the thong to pierce through the inner monologue tryly to find that the path to at least resistance is no longer hard to find then it is to accept that the world is ridden with crap and light joy and the bottom is hidden for you have to have power to live and ingnite and so find th way out there to fight with the tast that lay congruent ot the equally perpendicular theory that mankind has developed under suspicion that is all be taken away by the filth and rotting scenes of a day in the afterlife could bring...

And it is in fact in tact to lay back on your back and stay jacked on the rubber ball tacks in the hat that give thanks to the tanks of air proudly displayed in the foyer that may become filled with tear gas at any moment in given time from now because we are the bad things that cruelty scowls upon, pay fifty cents to smoke a 100% tobacco free cigarette? I think you’re trying to rip me off, son! FUCK YOU! AND GO TELL YOUR DODDLEDUM TRUMPET BLOW NOSE THAT I AM NOT INTERESTED

Tear down the old terrors of peril and freight of the evergy that withstands all hte becoming days going by in the blink on the runway before the last giving of hands of thanks go back into time tragedy allows into undoing the forces it’s reality bestowed upon my girlfriend. Of what does the difference between tow men, a man and a woman, or two completely different types of people that walk the earth have to do with the sensual feelings in my brain contained by the power of thoughts magnificent bio-lude in the symphony of atomic bizmal foresaught elattitude that primal decandants fall down upon???

In the light of an old dog light, hte inside of the house could be made out to be in front of hte disposition in which it stood. She ached and ached at her muscles but the thought of coming in contact, facial to facial interraction, scared her to the point that even if she wanted to ride home she would not be able to due to the amazingly great shocking tense sense that had filled the air around her since she was a little girl. As hte night grew dim and carried on with the loud sounds of gunfire, he sat at his table with a single [piece] loaf of bread and a glass of water, remembering the times that he shared with his long be-leaved wife. The air that settled around the town onthis night was so magnificent that even the brilliantly textured senses were aroused and brought forward to touch this great pleasure. 

WHO HAS TO KNOW? WHO THE FUCK HAS TO KNOW? LET ALL LIGHT COMING INTO YE CREVASSE ASSHOLE INTO THE GREAT BOWL OF BULLSHIT THAT FAGS EAT FROM IN GIVING ADVICE TO HER YOUNG WANKNESS!

Out of all sepremecy, hwat all does it have to do with me causing a scene? Shoudl I go over there? Chenell is talking to Miguel and when I walked over there to get my meds at the counter she kept looking at me so I know they were talking to me, or about me, now they are laughing at my expense and they will never fess up to it I know that.

One of the boys talks to their other evil self in reflections and around corners and theri evil other selves have long hair... It’s like Jeckyll and Hyde in the League of Extraordinary gentlemen.

Which way shoudl it go with all of this going on? The tether is hanging around in such a way

After everything he says in public- “I don’t want to hear this shit.” and he walks away

Okay, this is entense. I’m not going to flatter myself any more. Drake’s got my back to the fullest and I’m thankful for htat, to keep Chanel off my back. She put on make-up and perfume takey to impress me, she said that she is better then my girlfriend becuase she ahs better boobs, or bigger boobs, she is talented, independnet, smells good , and she asks, “What is so good about you’re girlfirned?” I asked her what she knew about God, she didn’t want to talk about it but she busted aout a bible and asked “Facts?” I bet she really does have an interesting opinion on God and religion and such, but maybe not. 

I wonder what it would be like to hang out with her firneds. Like, would I be just some artsy old dude that they think is crazy or would htey acutally respect me? I wonder if I could hand around in her crouwd, but I shouldn’t care. Those things don’t matter. 

[Kathy was just over for a visit and Chanel and Miguel were talking about me. I think Dreake could tell I saw them and got pissed and he probably read about my screaming until the whole “shot in the ass” thing happened and didn’t want me to do it again, so he broke us apart and then them apart again. I was going to writite her a letter saying that she’s just been bullshihtting all along about liking me and htey thingk it’s funny how I believe her and flatter myself.] Well, I just took 3 trazedones and now I am off to bed. I should recap the events in thhis log before i get out of here, definitely tomorrow or something. Later.

Nevermind, I’m back. I was laying in bed having nightmares about what happened today and then it was like all of a sudden some people came “bungee jumping” from the ceiling and hovered over me saying “Aah!” really fast. That was the shock that put in for that my mind cannot fall asleep. 

On Wednesday, my mom called the hospital to get me in where I needed to be as soon as possible and maybe bypass the emergency room altogether. We got there, had to wait in the waiting room, hwere I cried with my headphones on, and then we were called back to sit in a room in the emergencty room. I waited with my mom, crying but bpatienet, thinking I would only be here a little short while, but it was a long time beofre anyone came. Then a doctor came and asked why I was here, and i told him, and then when another doctor came in and asked the same shit, I asked him why he asks such stupid fucking questions. He had no idea how to resopond but you’d think he knew what was up, it being about the fourth time I had to say. I told him that I almost fucking slit my throat on my neighbors porch yesterday- Thanks for asking!!! He said they’d be down to get my any time. An hour later, the room began getting darker and lighter like the light was dimming out in a pulsating fashion. I wasn’t just loking in one place, I was looking around and still it had the same effect. Then a guy nurse came in and was like- “Okay- you almost killed yourself yesterday,” and I started bawling. All I had to go through in ths last 24 hours and these guys just had to throw it in my face, over and over and over and over. Anyway, when the nurse from the station 48 finally came down, he said he was going to help me out [or something]. Me and my mom were talking about lieaving and I had it stuck in my head that 1) THESE PEOPLE CANNOT HELP YOU and 2) YOU ARE IN TROUBLE. I said “FUCK YOU!” to the nurse and asked this black security guard what I did. Then I said “SHOOT ME!” to the cop. Well the cop was just a security tuard and she showed me that she had no gun, so I called her worthless. 

I had a dream this morning that I was finding my way around high school at a more expanded and complex Maple Gove Senior High, and we were being recruited for the army or something. The school was like a big mall from another dream. Anyway, I went outside, dressed in my snowboard gear and carrying my board and saw that the school had it’s own terrain park back there [behind it] complete with an ivey halfpiple. As I walked to the right, I noticed that the half piple was jst a bunch of drop-in hits. There were some younger dudes chilling around and getting ready to ride, talking, and I walked through the powder in front of them to get ready myself. I listened to what they were saying, and then I agreed with them and said “Yeah, like me. I’m here” and they were like “Whoah! Yeah!”

To conquer the darkness, the darkness you say? To waht tragedy do you lie beneath yourself and every one else that matters? And if they matter; who doesn’t? And if no one matters to pass gas on travel in tripes to take baggage to the kennel and bury it with all of htier sings in holes doo deep for shovels to dig but we filled with bones and picture frames and car titels to stand on the monument of which only the strong get eaten and beat tin hte game to a pulp where feet...

Yes!!! Fucking righteous by the head of the bank! The unknowing doctor with his head in the forecasting spell of an ancient temple by which the specimens rise and give thianks to their God of all surface and proponent guild of the swords sheethed by the thousands, an army of locken ghouls at the souls of my skate sneaker convered soues and and the picture is done! The head has been won... The time has now begun as my head spins in delight of the malignant duty in all to recognize the beauty in all of this; I hope I will, Indeed, someday; today; at best; yes; TODAY!!!!!

8-29-05

FATIGUE LOOSE VICTIMS

As the extraordinary witnesses to the sight of the fall, that heard all the nothing from out of the wall, I take on reprimanded bandages wrapped in tin foil and blemished in pig spit to unwhole the earthy madam being up right in her vest of space and time and diabolic atmospherical pressure that stands still in hte magnetic resonance of that which I eat my breakfast so late that it’s impossible to fathom how empty the tanks are on fuel, gauges getting so low they’re about to burst off the charts of the principle being in his chari just stiing and praying for new hope of a scheme to ruin every other watermelon growing planter in the entire lag begged nation....

(I WROTE THIS IN THE HOSPITAL)