March 8, 2004

  • I’ve got to break out of this puffy mind of mine that’s crowding out thoughts with sterile foam filler.  Or is it Cheezeless Cheating Cheetos that are jamming the conduits of my inspiration, finding and filling a newly abscessed brain niche like exotic insects hoping to win the world over with their over-brooding gratuitous ubiquitousness?  I need a good kick in the head with loving feet, damn it.  I need toes that smell like roses to tickle my nose until I sneazingly spew up the fluff wadding constrained within my congested cranium.  Or maybe I could just fall off my chair and crack my head.  Like Humpty Dumpty lie there and let whatever needs to ooze away ooze, but rely on the duct tape and velcro that Humpty never had to put myself together again.  I need to find a good, used trocar on eBay and a reliable set of online instructions on how to perform self-surgery on one’s own head in a mirror.  I need to lose this contrivance of a bloated, overfed self-consciousness stuffed to the full.  I need the mind-fuck of some total other attraction.  I need to disappear on the trail of a weird and wonderful out-of-this-world allure.

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