softly

Softly, yeah don’t hurt me too much, love, or love for some other being, we all are “no don’t talk to me about that eric, I have to get on the society pages, be seen in the photos for opening a heart institute or some book reading at an ambassador’s residence – there’s lots to do” I hear her, though I don’t know her, those circles. Oh we all know each other, we hope it’s enough, living life, keeping busy, either making an appearance at the local tavern, or the ambassador’s residence, wherever

Janey sits down with merle, merle looks a little worse for wear, been out drinking, celebrating higher prices on his paintings, or maybe the death of his mother, not celebrating it, but not knowing how to react, sadness, so bleary he is in the art world, worship of him “make me big, so nothing hurts me” but yet he sees Janey, on these funny little papers, not much of anything, she wants to talk to him in some other little being, that humans could be, got here by meditation, though she doesn’t do meditation “what the fuck?” he says “so your mind is the same as mine, why do you even try?” to sit and talk, not want her pussy, just want talk, on this strange shit, poor merle his life is just about over even if he has 20 more years he’s such a conceited ass has no room for anybody else “the papers show us, ready to transfer into this other little being .. we are more the little being, the talk, the presence, than the papers, than any art”  “Okay ..” he says “whatever why do I meet with you you little slut”  “Okay merle that’s enough you’re drunk” “ah suck my cock” “okay fuck you then” she gets up walks out/ or stays in some part of her, still there, hanging around, want to see it through, as the rest of her is walking out, just gone.

So here’s some work from the guy meditating, guy doing base material, raw material, encourage paper makers, all over the city, make drawings, then sit with some asshole like merle, barely will see them, is rude, uppity, sometimes it would be a good thing, have his balls cut off right there and then.  Oh, looking for feelings, the stupid man sometimes has.

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3 pm

So I went for a little walk at Hog’s Back, walked over to Vincent Massey – pretty day, some sun, but a bit chilly, I had a hoodie on, then a rain jacket over that, just all-weather jacket type thing, put the hoodie and the hood up, there you go, two hoods, no, /yeah – so what did you do today? That’s good, everybody get out, enjoy the weather, nice to walk across the big fields, free – wide open air, wide open sky, beautiful parks, these two parks near me, lifesavers, like I have said many times, go there, calm down, get some earth intelligence, walk along, feel its calm, its giving .. and all this stuff about “no-matter beings” they don’t matter? No no, they’re not made of any matter, do we really want to know that, or does it just creep us out “hey eric you creep us out, you’re not the right one” so it is, it makes for an interesting book though, my skills in this, gradually establishing this, instead of dying, so it’s a good way to spend your life.

Ah what do I think of humans? Being friends with them? ah sometimes I get the impression, they’re plants, planted by the police, or that lingers a bit, you know, their attempts at that – but also life, just drop the suspicion, hard to do that, you know how negativity is in our lives, seeps its way in, you can easily obsess about it, have nothing else .. but I like the park, I talk to my dad a little “here we are dad, at our bench” I sit a little “this is where we fed the squirrels, had a little chat” so yeah, it goes okay, oh a bit melancholy “does anyone really talk though?” to spend time with each other, and art is how we “negotiate all these potentially creepy things” just talking about what should be talked about – have some art – so yeah with Shae way back when I had some art, it almost became life, but you know how that goes, I think a lot of people accidentally arrive on that “Id like art to be life” “I seem to sense a lot is said there” .. you really don’t want to add it up, it’s too sad to face ..

Humans aren’t talking at all.  Ah, you know, they get by, just the notions of living, take up your time, washing, bathing, washing clothes, hanging them on the line, ah all sorts of things, if you’re married it’s nice having someone around, or I hope it’s nice for you, but very little is said, I know women like to say “let’s talk about our relationship” actually no woman I’ve ever known has said that, oh I want to believe the TV ads, “the art,” there you go, it’s a funny life, a lot based on “what artistically I think humans would relate like” ah that kind of thing comes into psychological groups too, they have all kinds of practices “they want to teach you” “learned them in school” ah you want to believe they know what they’re talking about, you want someone to know what they’re talking about .. but they don’t, not really, ah, they get a nice paycheck, I guess I’m supposed to respect them for that, ah maybe some of their stuff, it’s not bad, it gets you thinking, but believe me, these doctors, psychologists, at home, well, their kids “don’t want to hear it” “try that fancy stuff on me” “screw you, dad” and so it is .. and so I suspect many paintings are too, art, the more typical art “encourages you to talk” no it fucking doesn’t .. and so, life, just the creepy instance left “Eric’s going to talk to us in some little being, it’s not actually there” “fucking give up on it, eric we’ve seen all the artists and psychologists, what the fuck are you?” and so it goes, not here ../ not meant to be here.  Nothing to say on this really, do I get going on it at some time in my lifetime, not really, fuck, it makes a good book, it trails on, got lots of complication, but in the end, well I hope not, do we just say “what the fuck was that all about?” just like with everything.  Yeah I think so, pretty much/.

It’s something to do, a person existing well after death, mental illness, crime, love, lust, messes, fall down, die, get up “here I am!” “as this!”

Yeah we kinda like it, we kinda like it, eric, old boy.

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/endf’ snippet/ 3:30 pm

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So that’s that writing offline, the 3 p.m. to 3:30 or whatever so Janey says to Charles, back at their apartment, roommates artist singer fingers up assholes make money whatever way you can or have fun or be dead, janey do some graphics honey stop in have a regular job rude graphics or advertising graphics rude in their own way we none of us have any chance to get anywhere else .. so she reads the strange meditation, ongoing huge book, not even a book, it’s nature watches us it’s not us she tries to draw papers and be the being encouraged by it but she can’t really, meet with gallery owners talk the silent bidding on her ass, doesn’t want to

Ah the next step for society for art fuck it all

She feels like that but she keeps going at it doesn’t get too involved in drugs or sex or using boyfriends, tries to go the straight and narrow, fucking charles get a job oh tries, tries not to sell himself .. short .. studious .. university .. work doing architecture big drawings, small touches, sections, contracted out to him, boring stuff, but stay the straight and narrow, don’t go over the edge, like so many have, no one to help them, they’ve fucked it up good, 40 times, at 39 mommy and daddy said no, at 40 they killed themselves.

Ah hang on bleary rug rats or that’s little kids right? no one grows up gets to fucking know the little next being that the meditation man talks about.

We keep going read his huge book stop in different points, explore “that world” yeah it’s not necessarily chronological, we’re all dead, this is some other world, he gives us, fly in a spot in its “globe” stay a while pages tear on slow down different speeds quiet parts loud parts world I love you see what’s there, eyes strain put it away, live .. but live with it, in the regular world, when .. so we alive and imaguooyined characters carry fingerlicking on .. read with eyes droop, world sag sigh I pick you up, not for sex, reading /hey wanna go home and read, sure/“I see you there – see all people there – I feel better.”

So yeah, two different sections at least 100’s as it grows papers inner book world trying to get there, inner book, then janey mere window dressing no she kicks me in the balls then eats the torn off balls is hungry blood wink her period testicles tumbling out she hates me and men no not really suck it up hit hard with fist no marginal like no of the whole thing men woosmen everything go go away gogolighter flame dance bo anything 609’s slum meet 1290 heat of fancyache kiss keep available elle on call do all of them welcome./ fuck you love the words though meditation man I will try out here