THE WRITER MUST EAT -> patreon.com/trn1ty <- blah! ideas with no tangibility; ideas with irrelevant supports; ideas without value; ideas' witlessness; ideas' witnesses; ideas- <^> 2023-08-14 2021-01-12 sitcom.txt CARLOS walks into the room. FELL: So, how'd it go? CARLOS: It went well. It went pretty well. CARLOS faints onto the sofa. FELL grabs a bottle of water and pours a third of it on CARLOS. FELL: Well? Just well? Did you... CARLOS (sputtering from the water): Yeah. Yeah we did. It was... sexy. FELL: Sexy? CARLOS: I mean, I almost died. But it was sexy. FELL: How?.. CARLOS: Ah.. strangulation? FELL: Strangulation? CARLOS: I was suspended from her ceiling fan by a rope. FELL: Oh. CARLOS: I just need to take a quick nap to recuperate here. FELL: Is that why you have a new turtleneck? CARLOS: Yeah. She gave it to me when she took me out to Dennys. FELL: Oh, well that was nice of her. CARLOS: On a leash. FELL: A leash? CARLOS: I was fortunately wearing a paper bag, so it's okay. No embarrassment. FELL: How did you eat? CARLOS: I didn't. She said she was going to peg me later. FELL: Did she? CARLOS: Yes. FELL: Was it your first time? CARLOS: No. Thank god. She pulled out a nine-incher- FELL: Jesus, a nine-incher? CARLOS: That's what she called it. It was more than a foot though. FELL: The nine inches was... CARLOS: The nine inches was its girth. Yeah. FELL: Did it hurt? CARLOS: Not really, she gave me some drugs or something- FELL: Let me see your eyes. FELL shines a bright light into CARLOS'S eyes. Their pupils shrink. FELL: Your eyes aren't dilated. CARLOS: Yeah, I'm not still high or anything. FELL: So, she hanged you up like a pin~ata- CARLOS: Like some kind of French pin~ata- FELL: and then after she was done with you there, doing?.. CARLOS: She put a vibrator in my ass. FELL: So you were swinging around by your neck with a vibrator in your ass? CARLOS: In my ass and two on my nipples. FELL (concerned): Was all of this consensual? CARLOS: What, does she seem like a fucking monster to you? Of course it was. FELL: I was just checking. CARLOS: I loved that shit. We're going on our second date next Friday. FELL: That was the first date? CARLOS: That was me coming over to play video games. Things just snowballed. 2021-12-03 priongod.odt I am rotting. I can feel it. My brain eats at my skull at my eyes at my tongue my tongue. Left arm gone. GOne. I am sitting in this freezer rotting. The flies cannot find me but it doesn’t matter. In the years after I am gone the precipitation the weather the wind the rain the snow the sleet the hail will fall will reign will blow will fall will fall will destroy this building not today not tomorrow not in a hundred years but. IN a hundred years. Plus one. Plus one day. The rust, the rot, the rot of the barrier between me and the world will become rot in here with me with what used to be me. And my rot, my sacred rot, will join the world’s. And the flies will find me will find what’s left and they will love me and I shall bE THEIR GOD. But now as I sit I a,m no GOD no MESSIA the messiah came and I was weak as were everyone ELSE. We are all dead. I am merely the last animate in a sea of death. I was seven days younger when the fast moving slow destroying harbringer of harrowing horror bit flipped and started eating a cow a hundred magnitudes’ faster. Deus ex bovem venit. Nobody at work read the news. Then half the cows in Canada died in the span of eight hours. Nobody at work could afford to hide from the news anymore. Fast food. Our lives were made from the deaths and consumption of cows. By the time the corporation that owned the building in which I made my living determined the price of the new scarce burger the rest of the cows in Canada had died too, and half the people had died with them. It was at this point that people started to worry. Six days ago I woke up to an alarm clock that would never ring again to a world that had changed and to the realization that I could not feel my left foot. 2021-12-23 epilogue.odt I woke up at dawn to the peace of my home, got out of bed, without making it, a single pillow and blankets on a tatami mat, next to some books, found in the basement of a church, some of its stones even still standing, whatever denomination it was wiped away with its believers, said good morning to my mother and father, whom I love, and who taught me love, love the only thing I know, war wiped away, destroyed not by itself but by something smaller, greater, got out the door, spoke my hello to the cow, the chicken, the grass, the flowers, and began my stroll through the green, my daily walk, through the once urbanus field, the only thing remaining being the dust of concrete and glass, metal, lithium, my stroll my favorite exercise, through the peace of the outside, from the peace of my home, in this piece of the world. With the ascending sun today to my starboard, I walked through my field of soy and wheat and potatoes, almost undisturbed by rot. I kept beatpace until it reached halfway between the heaven and the dirt which was when I came to the barrier, new, of the century, that had bothered me last moon. There it stood. Moss had yet to take its rightful place and no cracks were in its boulders. Enough powder we had to take us again to this season, more than enough barrels, yes, but I’d have liked more soy just in case. More soy in that place. Now there were only stones and flowers. By the sun’s peak I’d returned home, and knowing my father had known this land before I’d known this life, I found him in a rocking chair in the pasture, rocking back and forth, staring at a lone tree in the shadow, his hand fallen to his side, fingers brushing the cow, whose own chest rose and fell, as he rocked, the cow laying next to him in the same peace. “Father, do you know the edifice, beatpace eighth the right sun from home, new as it stands?” He didn’t open his eyes. “Yes, if you can call it that. My own father built it. Do you know why it stands?” “No.” My father took his hand from the cow and traced the air. “It…” he trailed off. “The words flee. Where are we to Sol?” “Nine suns past its solstice.” He smiled. “Bo; go back to the stones. You’ll see why your ancestor erected them.” I returned to the stones by the time evening started to take its toll, sat by the flowers, and waited for epiphany. It came after the sun’s set, when a low roar rose from the sun’s resting place. I lay staring up at the brilliant night sky when the roar swallowed me all at once. Jumping to my feet, I saw it all around me, a black mass, running past me towards the sea. A herd of cattle. I’d never seen one before, nor had I seen so many fauna in the same place, twenty or thirty cows running towards what I had never known. I and the moon above me stood upright watching them go. After I slept I returned to my father, still in the pasture. The cow’s chest was stationary. “Miles, did you find what you sought?” “Yes.” My father seemed weary. “Would you say it’s been nice, to be here? To exist in this world?” The tree’s leaves were as green as I remembered. “Yes. It’s a good world.” Father smiled. “I’m glad you see it this way.” <^> No rights reserved, all rights exercised, rights turned to lefts, left in this corner of the web.