driving his inner child

Edenic Memories During Jailhouse Enemas

1. His mother and father died when he was 15, and his first super-8 film was of chalk drawings in darkened spaces: where he imagines the poses and places where his people died.

2. On forms and applications he checks the box “Other Disability:”

He writes in the explanation box:

“I’m moderately misanthropic. I hate crowds, and the excessive inane conversation of mindless individuals. It’s an attitude-disorder.”

3. He tells the barista : “l’m a multidisciplinary artist, working at the intersection of physical texture, shadow, and sound.

My works explore what could have been, by tracing the physical gestures and material qualities of everyday things.”

4. He tells the patrolman he’s driving his inner child home after the stabbing.

He talks to other policeman all night long, without stop.

5. When they ask him why he did it he says:

“ I’ve got the KetoFuelDoctor1 tracking me down. He fills my junk mailbox daily! What are you trying to say Doc? Do I look fat in these pants?

Well I am fat, doc! But I don’t want what you’re pedaling.

What the hell is he pedaling?

I’m not clicking on the links in his emails!

But I read the subject lines…”

“The only thing that makes life possible is permanent, intolerable uncertainty: not knowing what comes next.”

— Ursula K. Le Guin / The Left Hand of Darkness

About istsfor manity

i'm a truncated word-person looking for an assemblage of extracted teeth in a tent full of mosquitoes (and currently writing a novel without writing a novel word) and pulling nothing but the difficult out of the top hat while the bunny munches grass in the hallway. you might say: i’m thee asynchronous voice over in search of a film....
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