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The Hogs of Entropy 0364
'##::::'##:::'#####:::'########: 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 !!
