THE LOST TAPES Vol.24: dreams.

[notes from after waking up] 

isn’t it weird that beauty is relative?
isn’t it weird that anyone could be anyone’s most beautiful person in the world?
i’m not beautiful, but why do people get attracted to me?
when does beauty starts to have meaning in a person’s life?
when does one start to see beauty?
why is she so ugly? why am i so ugly?
why the carcass reveals itself a meadow, —a mask to the sewers below?
pumping flowers out the manhole, crocodiles in tuxedos at the store down the street. pink sky, mortality-mad, buildings made out of cinder blocks that remain in shape after a tornado hits, but loses its cool at an earthquake, at a ball bouncing on the ground, at the broomstick hitting the burglar, and the thousands upon thousands of butterflies eating away every soft surface in the atmosphere. 

***

A stolen grenade is exploded by mistake in front of a store
We run for our lives
Dark alley, total blackout
Wake up with him and strange girl over two beds in a minuscule outhouse
The girl is wearing a clown costume
A middle-aged woman is sewing more costumes
Ain’t they beautiful? She asks
He and I exchange glances, this is how we’ll escape police
Fast forward a couple hours
All three of us become too weak and frail to get up from the beds
The food is much too scarce, consisting of only extremely dehydrated powdered versions of real food
Sweet pumpkin with a hint of orange
Mine is expired ham and olives
No more than two bites of each, the size of my finger tip
The woman sees me smelling the food trying to figure out if it’s safe to eat
You are so ungrateful! After all I’ve done for you!
She takes away everybody’s meals, and we stay there looking at the closed door she just slammed, starving, not knowing if we will wake up the next day 

***

we buy anteater pizza and eat it all night long
you say you have to go to the little boy’s room
never comes back 

***

stop acting like a girl and start acting like a boy
and how am i supposed to do that?
you’re just supposed to know! 

***

Talk about how you got worried at the third and fourth parts
You know, this guy has real talent 

***

you shouldn’t tutoyer other people, for talking formally is the best way to present yourself
people can understand a negative very well without pas 

***

as far as I know I could kill myself everyday
(anyday?) 

***

Make a text-based RPG

***

Write [something good] about crossdressing.

***

   Black cat reunion
   Four black cats eat the bodies of four white doves
   Each cat sitting in a different corner of the square
   Inside the square is a circle made out of blood and liquid feces
   Inside the circle lays a stillborn white kitten
   The doves are carcasses that have rotted for a week
   And as the bell strikes midnight they meow
   They meow loudly with everything they have
   And at the end of the chant their lungs turn into liquid and come out, as vomit, through their mouths
   And the four black cats fall dead beside the bones of their respective dead white doves
   Each in a different corner of the square
   Each in a different puddle of liquified organs
   And inside the circle a stillborn kitten lays, now breathing 

***

It’s noon
The sky is black
All house pets are eating their owners
All cars sit still in eternal jammed traffic
All water is boiling and all food is spoiling
All lamps are broken and all stars have vanished
All that are alive are soon to be dead
I walk down the street towards the empty well
The empty well is calling my name 

***

we call the hotline, ask for a whore
grandma comes in, in her right hand a whip
hugs we two, asks if we want something to drink
lays on the bed and we watch as she whips herself 

***

necrophile dream
I was eating my rotting self and masturbating

***

i wished good night to everybody in the street
nobody replied
it was a cold morning
covered in blood 

***

she said it was necessary
strange men came into my house and put bars on the windows
she told me once again it was necessary
|
it wasn’t a dream 

***

flashback to a few years ago
same pain, same broken arm
same car, same regret 

***

we went up the stairs to the roof
she pointed out something down the street before pushing me
i turn back as i fall and see her blank face as she falls along 

***

a world war is coming
either that or mom will be visiting soon

***

20ft long string of anal beads
so long it came out through my mouth 

***

I. A. Richards was sitting in my living room
Legs crossed, reading my manuscript
First it was day outside, then night
When he finished his tea, threw the paper in the fire
Said I was a disgrace, insulted me to the bones
Handed me a flintlock pistol
I blew my brains off 

***

book signing
sat behind the table, piles of books in front of me
nobody else inside the bookstore
i put my mask
first person in line greets me, says he’s a big fan
second person in line greets me, says he’s a big fan
third person in line greets me, asks about the mask
fourth person in line greets me, asks for a picture
fifth person in line greets me, says she’s press, it’s an interview
sixth person in line greets me, pulls out a gun after I sign the book
the blood splattered on the blank pages
all copies are blank
the world around slowly fades to black while everybody watches in silence 

***

skin peeling like buckwheat
under the skin is a substance black as tar, but opaque
I’m slowly draining into the manhole 

***

knife
unwind
park
fresh air

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