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From: frank_fowlkes@yahoo.com
Newsgroups: alt.stories.urban-harvest
Subject: stamp a smile over someone's frown
Date: Tue, 18 May 2004 12:06:14 -0700
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Stamp a smile over my frown
The breeze was cool, and the water was black. A gray sea creature
was rottening, and red seaweed was everywhere. The sun sank lower
and lower as dead trees crease to creak.
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the wind blows no more and all is still
"Your feelings disappear when you're not around people, when you're
not thinking of people?"
"So you're not around people anymore?"
"Why?"
"Cuz, feelings can be controlled?"
a pretty song can make you cry
another song kill
a sentence can make you frown
another one laugh
drugs can make you smile and screw
suck someone's :D too
someone can make you love
and another one hate
"or are they also contingent?"
as long as you. . .work. . .behave. . .shut up. . .look away
you'll be loved, or at least left alone
A, B, C
then D
A = good meal, B = cold wine, C = right phenotype
D = hot sex
A = good job, B = secure house, C = h/wealth
D = love and a/another baby
A = no future, B = not this life time, C = ugly and in-the-way
D = pity, hate
[Time out. Rewind, duncun donuts off the turnpike; snowing remember,
I read that book you gave me, some monk, seventh century,
his fucking observatons: man and the black dungeon. Crazy, man, pain,
fear, greed, make a man's body do anything, like that one time, fucking
dude was made to kill his cell mate, best buds too, played nine man all
the time, but black dungeon changed that, sleep deprivation, some
blood letting, pain, and dude killed his bud with
a big old rock while bud slept; they told him bud was the problem; they
promised him freedom, sang and told him stories, him a hero, dressed
gangsta, lots women too, stuff like that, who wouldn't fucking
kill, four brick walls, no sun. Fucking crazy man,
that book, not many of them around, wonder how you even smuggled
it out to make a copy, but that's not all, that one chapter, big buns
and love, crazier; nothing like it anywhere else, and I read alot,
making both men and women ejaculate thier fluids all over the place,
a blind fold, a wet mouth, and a naked body does it all by itself,
the mind usually goes along with it after a while. I like how the monk
ended the book, he who controls black dungeon controls man, or
something like that, been so long you know, makes sense too now, your
comments, better not be taken alive, sure you might survive, maybe even
die an old man, lots of grandchildren, but you'll be dead, so will your
grandchild one day too, and someone somewhere, farway, a candle and
black night, will remember, you survived and stuff you want to forget,
ignore. Stuff you do, only because others allow you to, or not to, usually
in people's best interest too, believe me I know, that one time at that bar,
up in Barstow, drunk, bad stuff would of happened if her freinds didn't
come in time into the female restroom to rescue her; she was only looking
back because I was starting to creep her out by staring at her. Too
creepy man, thanks for letting me know all that secret seventh century
stuff, havn't been there, don't wanna go there either, keep that stuff
away from me, books and movies as close as I want to gets.]
"And, when you think of people, people you don't even personally know,
someone jumping of a building, another one getting of a boat, crawling
into a jungle, others honest, good, terrible deaths, are there more
frowns than smiles?"
"Each one dies with a smile?"
"Maybe you stamp your frown on thier dead smiling faces?"
what's the ratio between your pulse and the number of times you
breath?
how about when you get sick?
get sad?
get angry?
excited?
"Why do you want to stamp your frown on the living?"
why do they want to stamp their smiles on me and the dead?
"Love."
no, bro, smiles and dead white teeth, and cuz their
stupid feelings disappear when frowns are everywhere,
and the only feelings that matter rise from the grave.
but no smiles or frowns anymore, either feeling can be
controlled now, long ago, love, hate, life or death.
"fiery light in a black sky?"
people's life and death has to add up, more than contributing
to the world of the survivors when everything runs out and the weather
changes cold, or contributing to anyone's happy little story, sweet,
happy little endings for everyone, or at least to anyone that really
matters.
[Time out. Petro, OK, She smiled, and when I asked the stupid girl
why she smiled she didn't know why. I almost smiled too.]
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love me please or somethink like that
fin
-
great, bitch, i'm not cancer, i'm just Frank, remember that
hope you feels better anyway,