It is a chronicle of my struggles as well is his own. It is vague. It is the pistol in the concrete, the wax-papered meal in the cemetery. The semeterry. The seamatery. It is one granite seam that stretches ten times ten. A necropolis, as they say. You're pathetic. I saw her getting into it today. It is vague. That is vague. She is vague. But my whole life has been like this. My life has been like this. My whole life has been like this.

What are you talking about? What are you talking about? Don't you know I told you that in confidence?
Andy Kaufman arms when he's bouncing, dancing. My whole life has been like this. My bitch, my complaint, is to be kept secret. Harbor it in your wet vestibule. Well, I just wanted a mucous membrane to rub up against. She requested sex - reneged. I had just eated a meal in the cemetery. My grandmother requested sex with her mouth full of grapefruit. I woke to my grandmother waking me. She was choking. I gave he the heimlich, and half a grapefruit - covered in a thick saliva - came out of her mouth. A diet fruit. But it all his. He poked me so hard with his finger, but I felt okay because I knew I had a pistol in the concrete. He had one by his breast. Some sort of charcoal in his nipple. Reneged, again. I saw her - or someone like her. A new black haircut - went for the blackest haircut. Three pancakes in her sweatpants. God, the trim.

A request. A faint. I took the Long Stride after the First Step. I was the only person to reward myself, but I did so in grand fashion.

Subjects so far: The Changes to my subjects:
It Hell
It Lariat
It Gordons
It So so alfresco
You It
I She
It Fealty
That It
She Hands of God
My life Her hands of God
My whole life You
You The side
You
You A shunt
My whole life
His able body
My bitch, my complaint My whole life
(You)
I
She
I
My grandmother
I
She
I
She
He
Do I have the strength? Yes. Have I expired in her eyes? Yes. Does this confirm that thing about the pancakes? The haircut. Yes and yes. Michaelmas. We celebrated it in the dirt. Then in the sand. Then by a fire on a raft in the grean sea. Seameterry. The p in the berry. Up: u.p. Not so haunting to me.
It is not so haunting to me.
At least the dog is licking my hand as I leave, as my scream reverberates.
When I leave, my scream will reverberate. Two persons agree a corpse MIGHT be identified. iden by wom>>> The dead body of Jezebel resembles the red velvet cake I made for Michaelmas.

No, really, She found my ugly and decided to study stink language instead. This is a chronicle of my strugges as well as his own. His being me, too. Me too.
Right
Wrong
Total
She put transparent tracing paper on my face and traced my nouns.
My palmar surface pressed to her breast. The right nipple more in this world than the left.<<< In India, a violent death. He stole an office stamp and mailed a letter to his friend in India. Next day, she violent dead.
A signature I distrust. Yes, a measure or wiliness. She adopted my laugh and told me she does not find me ugly.
But I thought you found me ugly.
I don't. But when I'm busy, I think of little else
But I must smell.
The dogs left her skull and the palms of her hands. They violently - no, hungrily - ate everything else.
The statistical labor I put in to determin whether or not I am in a relationship