212 lines
9.4 KiB
Plaintext
212 lines
9.4 KiB
Plaintext
|
|
'##::::'##:::'#####:::'########: VIVA LA REVOLUCION! CERDO DEL CAPITALISTA!!
|
|
##:::: ##::'##.. ##:: ##.....:: ===========================================
|
|
##:::: ##:'##:::: ##: ##::::::: THE HELOTS OF ECSTASY PRESS RELEASE #364 !!
|
|
#########: ##:::: ##: ######::: ZIEGO VUANTAR SHALL BE MUCH VICTORIOUS! !!
|
|
##.... ##: ##:::: ##: ##...:::: ===========================================
|
|
##:::: ##:. ##:: ##:: ##::::::: "Harp or Motion?" !!
|
|
##:::: ##::. #####::: ########: by -> Trilobyte !!
|
|
..:::::..::::.....::::........:: 12/19/98 !!
|
|
!!========================================================================!!
|
|
|
|
this is for you, and you alone. i have to ask you a few things.
|
|
|
|
here it begins.
|
|
|
|
that; it needs no disguise. it's the reddish shade that we can
|
|
smell and taste and see. hands hold it, it drips through the fingers
|
|
and someday something will lick it up.
|
|
|
|
it's my panties!
|
|
|
|
you gave it to me as a gift for my favorite day. i could not
|
|
have asked for a better, more happy gift. thank you!
|
|
|
|
now that i harbor much hatred for you, i will burn it! the
|
|
ashes will sit in a baggie. they will be symbolistic of the hatred i
|
|
have for you!
|
|
|
|
i climbed the walls of a building downtown last night. i got up
|
|
to about the 3rd floor and sat down on a windowsill. people drove by
|
|
and couldn't see me. i saw you drive by. then you pulled into a nearby
|
|
parking lot and i watched you walk into a building.
|
|
|
|
that building was a facade!
|
|
|
|
it doesn't exist, it's bull! you spent a lot of time there. you
|
|
must have been doing nothing in that building full of bull. terrible
|
|
things happen to those who do bull.
|
|
|
|
i jumped down from my perch and broke my ankles. i crawled on
|
|
the ground in pain. i couldn't walk. a big fat kid was walking by and
|
|
looked at me.
|
|
|
|
"kiss me, you fool," i told him. i knew the kid.
|
|
|
|
he walked over, stepped on my hand, and then leaned down and
|
|
chewed on my cheek.
|
|
|
|
i stared at him. he stared at me. i looked at the sky. he
|
|
looked around.
|
|
|
|
"i don't like music that is too sex-oriented," he said to no one
|
|
in particular, unless it was to me.
|
|
|
|
"no, it can be awfully silly and pretentious," i replied.
|
|
|
|
my hand hurt and my ankles hurt. my cheek hurt, too.
|
|
|
|
his shoes were falling apart. i got the impression that they
|
|
were very old.
|
|
|
|
then _you_ came out of the bull store. the fat kid stumbled over
|
|
to you and talked to you about something. i wasn't sure what. what was
|
|
it he talked to you about? you have to tell me. you are useless if you
|
|
don't tell me what you talked about. talk to me. talk to me, please!
|
|
you haven't talked to me in years! where have you been? why did i just
|
|
happen to see you this one night? it isn't fair! i should see you
|
|
more! i should see you all the time! why does fat kid get to see you?
|
|
who is fat kid? that's what he says, but then my ankles healed. i
|
|
stood up and walked over to the two of you. you saw me and looked away.
|
|
fat kid looked at me in awe. i don't know why.
|
|
|
|
"i didn't know you were here," you said to me.
|
|
|
|
"i didn't expect to see you either. i was just perched on that
|
|
windowsill and saw you walk up," i replied.
|
|
|
|
"you shouldn't have been on the windowsill," you told me.
|
|
|
|
"well, bull. i can do whatever i want. if you can go into the
|
|
bull building i can be on the blasted windowsill. ok."
|
|
|
|
i began to spin in circles. remember when i used to spin in
|
|
circles? i would be happy, you would look at me and when i would stop
|
|
spinning and i would barf on you, you would be very interested and wave
|
|
your arms wildly and spin too and get barf everywhere and we would
|
|
embrace and spread and squish vomit all over each others bodies. we had
|
|
bodies. remember? remember when we had bodies?
|
|
|
|
i saw your body last night. you were walking into the bull
|
|
storefront.
|
|
|
|
"i wish i had your body," that's what the fat kid told you. "i
|
|
really do. i'm trapped."
|
|
|
|
all of a sudden the fat kid slapped me.
|
|
|
|
he looked me directly in the eye and told me i shouldn't be
|
|
listening to what he's saying. it's private business. it's something
|
|
between him and you. i don't care, i know everything anyway. i might
|
|
as well find it out now. someday i'll be dead and it won't make any
|
|
difference.
|
|
|
|
i heard guitar.
|
|
|
|
folk-boy was playing guitar on a rock about 200 feet away from
|
|
us. remember folk-boy? he was cute! girls like cuteboy folkboy. he
|
|
was playing guitar. he was into it too; he was shakin' all around and
|
|
movin' them hips and singing along to the tune of the guitar. and then
|
|
he slipped off the rock. first his rear gave way and slipped off to the
|
|
right, then his feet slid, and he tried to regain his control of the
|
|
rock, but he fell off. his guitar got messed up in the whole mangle and
|
|
ended up smashed.
|
|
|
|
oh well. he sat and cried and stuff but it didn't matter.
|
|
|
|
why did fat boy slap me on my cheek? he bit me and then, later
|
|
he slapped me. you had no control over it. i had no control over it.
|
|
only fatboy could control his actions, and he had a very strange way of
|
|
controlling them.
|
|
|
|
i slapped fatboy and told him, "if you're going to slap me, i'm
|
|
going to slap you. it's as simple as that, fatboy."
|
|
|
|
he understood. but he wasn't going to talk to you anymore. i
|
|
held out my finger to you and i began to bend it. and curl it. i bent
|
|
and curled my finger. it was meant to request you to follow me, but it
|
|
just looked silly and i don't think you understood, so i grabbed you by
|
|
the shirt and pulled you in the direction i was travelling in.
|
|
|
|
we stood in a dark, cold and silent alley. i looked at you and
|
|
then carefully surveyed our surroundings as to add an element of
|
|
mystery. i began to curl and twitch my finger at you again.
|
|
|
|
"see this?" i asked you, in regards to my finger.
|
|
|
|
"yeah," you said.
|
|
|
|
"where's my air conditioner?" i asked as i raised an eyebrow.
|
|
|
|
"i don't have your air conditioner. i think it's at your house."
|
|
|
|
"right. it's at my house. you are correct." i nodded my head
|
|
a few times. "you are correct. now, tell me, yes, tell me, what is
|
|
_not_ at my house, if my air conditioner _is_, in fact, _at_ my house?"
|
|
|
|
"i don't know. you're not at your house."
|
|
|
|
"no, but i plan on returning," i said. "i am, in a way, at my
|
|
house, because i am simply on an excursion. i have plans to return, yep.
|
|
but that doesn't matter, that's different, so, i will help you, i will
|
|
push you along. tell me, where are you?"
|
|
|
|
"i'm here in this alley with you."
|
|
|
|
"yes you are. which means you're _not_ at my house."
|
|
|
|
"why would i be at your house, though? i'm not supposed to be at
|
|
your house, and i haven't been at your house in years."
|
|
|
|
"yes. that's my point," i said. i smiled. i looked at the
|
|
walls of the buildings nearby. "none of these are my house."
|
|
|
|
"no, they're not, man. they're really not your house."
|
|
|
|
"nope."
|
|
|
|
i walked away. i walked over to my car, parked nearby. i
|
|
tripped on a stone and fell on the ground near a dumpster. there was a
|
|
lot of dark moist litter. i didn't like the smell of it, or the looks
|
|
of it, or really anything about it. it was really pretty gross.
|
|
|
|
i think you were still standing there, where i talked to you,
|
|
weren't you? i think you still stood there and watched me fall into
|
|
the litter. you didn't fall into the litter. i did. so you weren't
|
|
smelling the bad things like i was. you walked over to where fatboy
|
|
was, next, i think -- i think that's what you did next. and i think i
|
|
stood up, but i don't really remember what was happening. i followed
|
|
you -- followed you over to fatboy? he was still standing there. my
|
|
head hurt.
|
|
|
|
"you two left me here. you are always leaving me places. you
|
|
just leave me, i don't want to go anywhere. i don't really want to,"
|
|
he said to us, i think... something like that.
|
|
|
|
you wanted to comfort him or something, he had lots of problems.
|
|
|
|
but we all do.
|
|
|
|
i wanted to tell him that my head hurt and he shouldn't make it
|
|
hurt more but then didn't we go out and get something? i remember
|
|
wanting to get something and i think we went out and got it...
|
|
|
|
but anyway. i burned all the gifts you gave me, i don't remember
|
|
why. i really don't remember last night and everything before it. i
|
|
remember some things relating to _why_ things happened, but i don't
|
|
remember what sort of things actually did happen. maybe if i really
|
|
cared i could piece it all together and really truly solve this thing.
|
|
or i could move on, instead of worrying about all that.
|
|
|
|
like i could go to a thrift store.
|
|
|
|
tomorrow i could buy things for myself that other people didn't
|
|
really want. that might make me feel better about everything. but
|
|
first i'll have to find my way there from wherever i am. and then i'll
|
|
walk slowly and not really know what's going on, kinda spacy and airy.
|
|
clouds, who knows. sky. sun. it won't be late because they close
|
|
early. yep. they sure do, they sure do close early!%#%3%!#!#% HEHE!#%
|
|
|
|
!!========================================================================!!
|
|
!! (c) !LA HOE REVOLUCION PRESS! #364 - WRITTEN BY: TRILOBYTE - 12/19/98 !!
|