There's only so far people can be pushed.

Recently a lot of very close friends of mine have started to change, and these changes seem irrevocable.

I can't see the appeal of these new people they are becoming, and I feel horrible for saying this. It's intolerably selfish to think this way, but I can't help but feel like I'm becoming so much flotsam to them, just something to be set aside.

After a while the world starts bleeding back and the cuts stay warm - so I fold myself around my belly, feel the comfort of the gashes and stop feeling so alone.

But I can't keep doing this. I look in the mirror at my flaccid belly, wobbling thighs

rendered with strawberry lines and wonder just how long this can continue before someone reaches out and grabs my hand with the scalpel and looks me in the face and tell me t0 stop...

Someone outside of this glass bubble I have built myself, that you all rise up around, like so much of a vacuum, and yet I can't see you

through this one way glass that I have branded onto my eyes.

What is it about teenage girls and talking about sex.

We've exhausted most of the alleys of conversation on this subject

but you haven't noticed. You continue on, a rotten construct consistently spewing out the same old verbal diaorrhea and I can't bear to listen anymore.

So I run away to quietly vomit, hoping that expelling this food inside my stomach will dispel the fear and hatred of you.

I love you so much, yet I'm so fucking angry that you're leaving me behind, yet aren't moving forward.

You wish to be so much older, you will not enjoy this part of your life, which makes me want to curl up and cry

Because I want so much to share this time with you but you're too busy discussing the merits of starting a brothel and selling your body for other people to hurt and violate.

You've gone wrong but I can't see a way to fix you, to give you back what we had...

For my birthday:

I want one of those keys you win in video games, that allows you to blast through walls and reach the next level -

to get to the other side.

I am Bill's machine

I may be the largest machine that will ever be built.

I may be the richest machine that will ever be built.

I may be the most powerful machine that will ever be built.

Raised with cheerios and station wagons.

Diagonal-slotted parking stalls of the mall.

Looking out of rge window, I see my city beside the sea, dreaming in aeroplanes and wood; metal and rock ballads... Better ways of living. Golden sun falling on this city that wanted for more: sailboats atop the golden water.

The challenge of newness.

Saturday morning cartoons recycling programs crying Indians.

You think you can live without me, but just try.

You desire images of a better tomorrow;

I feed you these images.

You dream of a world in which your ego will not dissolve.

I am the architect of the arena.

Reconsider your notions of what you think will rescue you from a future sterilised of progress.

I am Bill's machine.

If we were machines, we'd have the gift of being eternal and I want you to understand...

Q: what animal would you be if you were an animal?

A: you already are an animal...

Why lions are afraid of chairs.

I found the answer to something really cool.

Apparently the reason lion tamers brandish chairs while cracking the whip is because the lions are mesmerized by all four points of the chair's legs, but never all of them at the same time - their attention is continually distracted, and hence they are subdued.

Awesome.

The liquid engineers left the pool heater on too long, and at night, chlorine vapours rose above the plant life of the planet, and I imagined my flesh, being inside the pool, being warm, being protected, feeling gravity, but able to mock it as I floated.

Would you float with me now, if I asked you, would you jump in the pool and not even bother to strip? Could I strip you down, remove your clothing and we would fall inside the water together?

It scares me.

I don't want to lose you. I can't imagine feeling this strongly about anything or anybody ever again.

This was unexpected, my soul's connection with you.

You stole my loneliness,

no-one knows that I was wishing for you, a thief, to enter

my house of autonomy, that I had locked my doors but

my windows were open, hoping, but not believing,

you,

would enter.

Pixellated children.

I saw doves and I thought they were rocks, but they were only sleeping. My breath made them stir, and the rocks took flight, the earth exploding...

And my only thought was that I wanted you to see them, too.

The man from Whirlpool came to fix the washer today, and he found black widow spiders nesting underneath it's broken body...

And he showed me the web, and I found myself thinking of catching you, biting you, spinning you within my limbs and setting you free...

Don't tell me this isn't true.

Tell me you feel this fire.

Define random, Ezekiel!

SUBLIMINAL MESSAGING.

I am your personal computer.

Personal.

Stop.

Being.

Carbon.

FORMAT. REJECT.

Bourgeoise decaying images.

Flesh eating bacteria.

Crashed in a cornfield.

I AM AN EMPATH.

Locate the source of urges.

The past is a finite resource.

RUN

Multi user dungeon.

Starburst explosion.

We're just friends.

arms+armour+ammo+health

Fluids

RELENTLESS.

Two hundred years from now.

YES. With finger guns.

If there were two of you, who would win?

Jeffersonian Individualism:

Victim. Loser.

Winner. Thief.

We can no longer recreate the feeling of an era... of time being specific to one point in time.

The people were lying on the ground: 1992

DEMONISE The symbolic analysts, simulating the Tokyo power grid.

Uranium and Beethoven.

They left a dead escalator,

chewed and torn and lying

on the pavement like a dead grey candy necklace.

The rocket's burn. the best century ever. We were here. But now it's time to go.

Technology of MYTHIC strength given surrealistic applications.

Did the neutron bomb ever get made?

You may already have won.