verbal diarreah

           Dig a fox hole, now. Right. Dig another fucking fox hole. The high whistles and the explosions. Faster. Motherfucker. Why am I the one who always has to dig these goddamn fox holes? SNAFU. We get in and cover ourselves and we're in camaflouge, like any other member of the armed forces. Tat tat tat is gun fire, rrrrr, puch are explosions. Both at once and we're dead. Tat tat tat means duck and run, rrrr, puch means dig a fucking fox hole. Every day is different, but every day is the same. Chemical warfare, planes, bombs, helicopters. Praying the sniper finds them before they find us. Everything all at once, five people talking to me at the same time, different ranks, different instructions, SNAFU. Memories of mammaries. Fucked up PTSD, shaking, sweating, I'm awake. Am I awake? What if these are just space suits. That's why we joined the Army, because they are just fucking space suits so who the fuck cares? NDEs, OOBEs, Lucid dreams, Astral Travel, anywhere but here. Rrrr, puch. We already got a fox hole and there's no tats. 

           Then, I remember “X=-B+-squareroot of b2-4ac/2a” which means I'm going to need help filling out my tax form 8300. Gotta call the CPA, motherfucker. Rrrrr, puch. Remember, always have a picture of your psychological placebo. The last World War was won because of inflatable tanks. Make these are fake bombs. The only bombs I wanna worry about are the ones at the comedy clubs. That's a great idea. Why didn't I think about that: let's all go to the 5 K butt naked? That'll raise some army funds. Sons-of-bitches. The VA fucked up, or should say the hospital VA, Remember Rule 62. Rule one is failure is ok, except here, where it isn't ok and nobody gives a flying fuck if you boo the enemy. POWs in a powwow.  

           What the hell? Let these bastards into our club? No way. No. Those people don't know what the fuck they're talking about and should never be a part of Vision. Remember, if they work hard, your dog can be accepted into the Carlow College of Psychology's Highly Competitive Graduate School of Business. Mommy doesn't know where you got this thing baby, but this is pretend. Pretend you're going to . . . . Mommy doesn't even know where this place is, but you're just going to kindergarten in the fall, not this place. We got years before we got to worry about this. Years and years baby. Nursing mothers flash me all the time. TYG. “If you have one bucket with eight gallons of water and another bucket with five gallons of water, how many buckets do you have?” That's wrong. “Hey, I better cut this out, I might just get to like it”. Remember, the meaning of death is 24. The meaning of life is “the time from birth until death”.  What's the squareroot of -4? 

           Where am I going? I'm going to el bano. No, you can't come to el bano. Because it's in another galaxy, which I have to teletransport to. You can never go to el bano, even in your wildest dreams. Then talk to your case manager.  

           Where? Remember, el perro necessita caca. You don't need to swear in Spanish because of that. No, no. El perro necessita el bano. Remember ABC: Airway, breathing, circulation. One time at my job, during a presentation, a fellow co-worker had a seizure and I argued with a teacher about whether or not the victim should be on her back or her side until the EMTs came. I think the teacher was right and I was wrong. Dad said it didn't matter either way and he's a dr. 

           I've imagined my wedding, even though it'll never happen. I know I'm going to be a DOA before that happens. Uncle Sam will pay for my final expenses. It's always been hard to find shoes that fit my feet. Flat feet used to be a way to get out of the Draft Dodger Rag.. I've imagined my mom singing Abi Gezunt and Sunrise Sunset. The worst thing is for a parent to outlive their child or to not be allowed to have children. Imagine if she was pregnant with our baby. Imagine buying our own house. Imagine by some old artist no one remembers anymore. You're really into the 90's. Hole in jean knee, 90's alternative rock, grunge, punk, heavy metal, folk.

           Remember when we'd go to coffee shops and listen to acoustic guitars while writing and drinking coffee? Remember going to the GLCC so women who were high would flash me and let me touch them. They had no interest in me, but it was sexually educational and they consented. Alternate current, direct current means bisexual. Free condoms. This was before Roe v. Wade was overturned. Fuckers. 

           I hate this place. All the immgrants are trying to get in because they think this is “the land of opportunity”. It's bullshit. I never stand for the Pledge of Allegance. I have HALT all the time. Wanna get things done and masterbate. I know my mind is fucked up. What else is new, but I'm the smartest fucker here, even with the staff. They think they can help me. I've been on suicide watch and the psyche ward. The stalker won't go away. Every day, she's outside my door. Could I just shoot her or throw old oranges at her to make her leave? The old next door neighbor, old since I moved, they're a young idiot. “I farted. I upchucked. It's stinky. It's pungent.” and nobody cares. These are the times I wish murder was legal in America or euthenization for humans was legal. Damn it. Shut up. 

           Every night, I wish there was someone sleeping next to me, wanting me to cuddle with them, wanting me to make love to them and then cuddle. You know. I'm a sissy and I've come to peace with that. I cry, I get scared, I feel alone, and have feelings. I used to hyperventalate, but that's stopped. The food here sucks, the people here suck, I'm treated like a dog in a cage. I can't leave the property, I can't control my money, they'll need to call my parents to see whether or not that's ok with them. Yes, we know you're 42, but that doesn't matter. No, you can't have bleach, you must have a clean apartment, we're allowed to enter your room without a warrant to make sure it's clean. Now, try to sell this place to other people. What do you like about this place? Do you want to be in choir? Do you want to be in AA, WA SAA, SA, TIAA, art, music, weight lifting, computer lab, volunteer opportunities, resume building, Cat Rangers, digital art, kareoke, and everything else under the sun? I want to be dead, so I can be free and rest. I just want to be dead.