What do I do?

Oh Harriett. How lucky you are. You, all plush and cushion, and faux red locks. Is it easy to be a doll Harriett? You see, I am a human being and I just get so wrapped around the tree of the hanged man....woman....human. I feel this terror and it paralyzes my body and renders it useless. I curl up like a deflated something made in China and I can't come out of my burrow. There is so much fear in me that sometimes i do not feel like I occupy this body anymore. Did I ever? Harriett? Am I restricted to this burden of a body, confined to trembling blood and tarnished skin? Disconnected... disassociated. You don't ever feel that way. Yo are a doll. You are my best friend. You will always be Harriett and you will never leave me. People disappear and their ghosts corrode my sun with specks of memories I care very much to be immune to. I get so angry at the discomfort. This body. This shroud. There are times that I just want to be as a snake and shed. I want to be new. I feel the World taint me the minute I leave the house. Harriett? Oh, I wish you could talk. I know you can hear me, but I need to hear your voice like a lost animal in the dessert needs water. To be human is to be vulnerable and susceptible to many impurities and circumstances. To be human is often to be helpless. We are all helpless with that great gift of mortality we have been given...the sorrow of your body turning to dust before you as the life still pulses, faintly, but just enough for you to see another day go by. I don't want to wait to die Harriett. Oh, I get so scared sometimes. I get so angry. Why? I question why. Why bother? Life is much hurt and defilement and confusion and torment at times....the tornado assaults me sometimes, it spins and whirls until I can't see....the light....the life....feel the pulse of blood pound at my temples. Do you ever feel invisible Harriett? I try to be the best friend I can be. You are the most reliable. You are always here waiting for me to return. You never leave. Human beings leave and my heart feels as if it were being crushed in a vice. The vacancy, the empty, the without. Contact, Why, it seems they always leave me. Am i garbage Harriett? Am I really that disposable. I suppose I don't act right or I smell funny or...I just become a non-entity. A lost and betrayed memory. I don't understand Harriett. You are the only one. The only one that has remained. Loyal. A constant fixture among an overwhelming hurricane. Gee. I need and I don't want to need. The hollows threaten me; they place their horror-bodies on my bed and I am terrified to sleep. terrified to go to bed. How can I not be? And the insomnia. The fighting to stay awake. The push and pull like some medieval terror device ringing pain throughout my exhausted, but jerky body. Harriett? Harriett? Did you fall asleep? I wish you could tell me what all this means. I feel I may go rather mad keeping it all to myself like a toxic volcano.I never know when my head will explode. I must be strange for thinking such things right Harriett? , Sometimes i want to scream at you for remaining silent.  I am jealous of your simplicity. You must hear me though, you must. There is something unique about you Harrietta. I sense your eyes shift when I shift and you eminate a silent wisdom that both placates and infuriates me. I wish we could switch places a couple times a week. I am ready for my retirement fund and I am only 15.  am I going to cease the monsters until I doe. Okay, Harriett, I won't say such hideous things for remainder of the day. Oh, but it is so tiresome when the giant ill switch is broken and I can't turn it off. Harriett, can you teach me the art of utter silence. You are like Zen. Something isn't quite right. Everybody knows. I feel their eyes grow scared when i begin to talk the way I do in front of you. I cannot reveal myself to these people. I am so lonely amongst my peers. Don't they feel it too? Harriett? Silence.

Harriett and I laying in bed.

Hikikomori is how Harriett describes me tonight as we lay beside each other (strictly platonic, I am not into molesting dolls). Hikikomori in Japan means "social withdrawal." I do not know how or why she comes up with these ideas of me. After all, she is just a doll and her capacity for empathy is nonexistent. Call me crazy-all dolls are sociopaths. Anyhow, Harriett said that it was not good for me to withdraw but to lead my disciples. Who are my disciples? Harriett says they are buried deep within my subconscious and that I have to unlock the box from which they hibernate. "Is it a Pandora's box?" I asked in fear. "No" she said, "It is a box that houses all those that recognize your ability to lead them in to paradise." "There is no such thing as paradise." I replied. "Oh yes" she said, "You will see." I get weary of Harriett's insights of me. She has none of her own because she has no flesh or blood. I do not understand all this gibberish about Jesus and paradise and disciples. Do all dolls talk like this? Whenever I ask Harriett about herself she sighs and replies "I am nothing but a doll." I think she may be up to no good. She is a mischief maker for sure. All this funny talk leads me to dark places. This talk reminds me that I am truly alone talking to a doll that has bizarre prophesies concerning myself. Social withdrawal? Not entirely. I talk to the walls and to Harriett when she listens. I disagree with her. "How do I get the disciples to come out and play?" I ask Harriett. "Oh, not play, follow, they will follow you to paradise, but only when they appear will the path be set before you to lead them." Harriett is an esoteric doll I think. I do not quite understand her. She says strange things to me in the dark. Most of our conversations take place in the dark when I finally drop my insomniac head onto my pillow. Red satin pillowcases and Harriett await me in the dark. I wonder if Harriett wanders. There are times, I swear, I place her on the red satin pillowcase. But, sometimes I look up from whatever it is that occupies my time to see that she sits at the edge of the bed watching me with her sewn in smile. Sometimes I think I must be delirious and sleep deprived to see such things. I know I placed her upon the pillow. I always do. But, she always moves. When I turn to lay down after a good forty-eight hours of no sleep I see that she is back in the position I originally placed her: resting upon the red satin pillowcase. Hikikomori: social withdrawal. I never thought of myself as removed from the pester of others, but perhaps she has a point. People to me do not talk-they pester. I suppose this point of view is not shared among those that are social. So, hikikomori to me. So the doll says.
Goodnight Harriett.

Harriett and I...a continuation.

Coming soon to a monitor near you will be a continuation of the story featuring Harriett and her companion. To recall or refresh your memory:  "I am a repressed revolutionary. Are repressed revolutionaries inspiring Harriett? Harriett said no.
Then why do you treat me like Jesus? Because you remind me of him a lot. How could that be. A fragmented sentence just projected out of me. I suppose I should say that she told Jesus
many tales. Her mother was silent like my mother. She hated her for her silence. Figuratively she was silent. Folks can be loud and silent at the same time..."
To be continued...

And now a song to end this message:


Only The Lonely lyrics
Songwriters: Orbison, Roy; Melson, Joe;
Dum dum dum, dummy doo wah
Ooh yay, yay, yay, yeah
Oh oh oh, oh oh ah
Only the lonely, only the lonely

Only the lonely
(Dum dum dum, dummy doo wah)
Know the way I feel tonight
(Ooh yay, yay, yay, yeah)
Only the lonely
(Dum dum dum, dummy doo wah)
Know this feeling ain't right
(Dum dum dum, dummy doo wah)

There goes my baby, there goes my heart,
They're gone forever, so far apart-
But only the lonely know why I cry
Only the lonely

Dum dum dum, dummy doo wah
Ooh yay, yay, yay, yeah
Oh oh oh, oh oh ah
Only the lonely, only the lonely

Only the lonely
(Dum dum dum, dummy doo wah)
Know the heartaches I've been through
(Ooh yay, yay, yay, yeah)
Only the lonely
(Dum dum dum, dummy doo wah)
Know I cry and cry for you
(Dum dum dum, dummy doo wah)

Maybe tomorrow, a new romance
No more sorrow but that's the chance
You've got to take, if your lonely heart breaks-
Only the lonely
(Dum dum dum, dummy doo wah)

Lee Hazlewood - My autumn's done come

Lee Hazlewood - My autumn's done come

VANDALS UNITE!

Nothing makes me laugh so hard as when I happen to be riding on the shitty train or walking the streets I should not be walking, and clear as day, right before my eyes, is the word "FUCK" written in huge childish upper-case defilements. "FUCK." So blunt, so profound. It mocks factory buildings, bathroom walls, and, why nothing can be better then when the word "FUCK" corrodes the pearl-white siding of a trophy home in gated-community-ville  or the freshly waxed SUV of a soccer mom. "TITS, " "ASS," "FUCK." Why do I laugh? Why, I laugh because the vandals, making their profound statements, have given meaning as to what these victims of spray-paint and sharpies represent: SHIT. Now, there is a word. "SHIT." That's right. The shit that knocked down all the trees that made up the wooded areas I used to run through and explore as a child. The shit that clogs up the traffic, SUV gas-guzzling soccer-mommy exhaust pipe spewing "SHIT."

So, yeah, what could be better revenge than  good old-fashioned vandalism when it comes to getting some revenge against the upper classes that plug our streets with brand new, GPS included, seat warmer, butt-fucking air extinguisher, piece of shit disguised in platinum golden spokes tacky toys that clog the air, streets, MURDER...ers. "FUCK" How does that toot your horn. How horrid. I am having a heart-attack, no, wait, really, I just had that siding...ouch...just bought that Audi.....ouch...I think.....WHERE THE DICKENS ARE MY HIGH BLOOD PRESSURE PILLS!!! OUCH!..........

See, officer, I thought that stuff was cleaning fluid. Yeah, I really did. But, after all that hard work on Mr. Vanderbilt's novel audi/SUV, I had, I needed a smoke break. I hardly lit the match and POOF! Like Armageddon! I swear officer, I had no idea. Someone must have labeled the cannister wrong. I get straight A's in school. Please don't tell my mommy, please? I didn't mean it. I didn't.

Nothing like a "Gated-Community" to keep the zombies locked away from the lower classes. Thank God. Throw away the key I say!

STAY AWAY!

Oh my, what happened to this fine looking piece of plastic?

Those evil vandals! Where the police around here? How do they get in to OUR neighborhood? This land is our land what? No, no, no, This is our neighborhood; we pay to live here and we pay for its comforts. How could such a thing happen to OUR neighborhood? Beware! Vandal!

Every nice white upper-class neighborhood wishes death upon the vandals, but I believe there are more vandals than they can handle. Get to work vandals!

Jesus! Who ripped up your lawn and kicked your make-believe flamingo to the ground. Who would do such a thing! And television room window....mauled by a huge football.....strange! Is this the Armageddon? Where are the cops? I bet it was a bunch of uneducated drug fiends! Let's get em'!

Whoah Soccer Bitch! What happened to your prize? Your mobile looks terrible! You better get those suckas! Who is the sucker really? Well...uh... never mind...where'd they go?

WOOPS!!!!

UH-OH! Here comes the wrecking ball! RUN FOR COVER!!!!! How did they get hold of a goddamn wrecking ball! SHIT!!!! Here it comes!!!!

Excuse me. Just taking OUR land back. Beware.

VANDALISM IS KEY!

I live for it and i have a pet-peeve (among many) concerning artificial flowers. Actually the white suburban flash of white trash and trophy neighborhoods make the snot in my nose cry a river, albeit, a raging river. I live next to a town that claims:Stratford-The town of forest and sea. Uh, where is the motherfucking forest? All I see are made in China houses and slow restaurants, and of course, THEE OLD LIQUOR STORE. I have a pet-peeve against signs that lie. Like the Stratford, My town motto is one big lie. "A Small City With A Big Heart" is what the sign says as you enter my town. But, really it is just a dumb suburb with a big dick. FALSE! ALL OF IT! Go buy your artificial flowers and stick them in your eyes because I'm afraid you have seen too much "small-city" person. That is enough. ENOUGH! I dream of vandalizing (not that this has never happened) every shit-ugly gated-ish neighborhood that make the deer homeless. With can in hand I spray these words: YOUR LAWN LOOKS LIKE SHIT. Bye.

But vandalism can be beautiful, especially when what is being vandalized starts out ugly.-http://sniggle.net/vandalism.php out ugly.

Vandalism is what I want to be when I grow up. My middle name  revenge. Now get into your over-sized gas waste shit soccer mom vehicle (All spray painted with the word "FUCK" on it) and drive to the nearest garbage can. Amen.

WHY?

WHY?

WHY Do People refrain from asking...

WHY? WHY? WHY? WHY?

Amy Miret of the band Nausea asked WHY?

Why or How? Why do you think that? I quote Bryan Loder of the Trick-Vatican, an expert on "WHAT?" says that all the philosophers have given up on why. WHY? WHY do you think this is? Do you think?

Do you ever ask WHY when you see this man?

WHY?

To ask why is to endanger the ignoramotic-hypnosis Our Country 'Tis of Thee has given us in many different forms. Capitalism, for one, and the one with the most toys wins......Who needs to think? I am still worried about how the rims on my new Lexus Supreme are going to come up. I hope those dirty mechanics do not fuck them up again.

'Why? Come on REALLY?!

I do not understand: Why not ask why?

William Butler Yeats (1865-1939)

    THE SECOND COMING
    Turning and turning in the widening gyre
    The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
    Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
    Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,
    The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
    The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
    The best lack all conviction, while the worst
    Are full of passionate intensity.

WHY? WHY? WHY? 

Do you want to know why... never mind, I know you have to buy Slaughter Vampire Fucker IV...you're busy.