Saturday, April 25, 2015

when i see the puppy passing through my shadow i feel identity with the the puppy, i borrow the puppy for my puppy unconscious that wants to come out.

copp and murdo have a bit of a competition for mother love and murdo acquiesces. he gets right in her face a kisses her and growls low and rumbly in contentment and murdo warning.

then murdo comes in for some and copp looks on.

we all like each other and are not exclusive though we be jealous sometimes.

excerise? haha.

for buck henry, i don't know why, he just seems like a nice man.

this is sara's latest golden i forget the name bizarre is my memory affected by my hollow tooth? i wish that we could have a golden life with a golden lasting a lifetime like a furry other everliving beside us a heart's true golden company, but i suppose we would take that for granted too.

i grow tired of the post-apocalyptic already, can't we just get there? i fear it will come after me and all i'll have is these memories of the future packaged by hollywood and the book factory. the worst have the best distribution sure and likely an agenda obscure and cgi riddled as it may be. i think i've read twice that the post-apocalypse is like the afterlife, strange because that's what i have said about now, so maybe the apocalypse has already occurred in the time-collapsed future. or this wrinkle in time. we missed the whimper for the sirens. no after no before only the now limned with space-time. well i had something succinct to impart, not wisdom but. damn.

this opinion's fact, honey.

we lived in kansas with the missile silos cuz we were expendible, then they were decommissioned and preserved for an afterlife of condo-ization for survivalists, sara says. meanwhile her dog tries to engage mine well not mine you know, my mister.

he didn't say he would, but he actually ate his hat.

is this a reprise?

is this? the philosophy of murdo.

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