Path: not-for-mail
From: frank_fowlkes@yahoo.com
Newsgroups: alt.stories.urban-harvest
Subject: Re: stamp a smile over someone's frown
Date: Wed, 19 May 2004 12:24:47 -0700
Organization: http://groups.google.com
Lines: 513
Message-ID: <e67cba1.0405191124.582c41d@posting.google.com>
References: <e67cba1.0405181106.1f87739d@posting.google.com>
NNTP-Posting-Host: 67.66.66.238
Content-Type: text/plain; charset="ISO-8859-1"
Content-Transfer-Encoding: 8bit
X-Trace: posting.google.com 1084994688 20546 127.0.0.1 (19 May 2004 19:24:48 GMT)
X-Complaints-To: groups-abuse@google.com
NNTP-Posting-Date: Wed, 19 May 2004 19:24:48 +0000 (UTC)
===================
.
Stamp a smile over my frown
The breeze was cool, and the water was black. A gray sea creature
was rotting, and red seaweed was everywhere.
----------------------------------------------------------------
----------------------------------------------------------------
----------------------------------------------------------------
--0-------------------------------------------0-----------------
----------------------------------------------------------------
the wind blows no more and all is still
The sun sank lower and lower as dead trees crease to creak.
-------
-------
-------
-------
----0--
"All your feelings disappear when you're not around people, when
you're
not thinking of people?"
bad feelings usually disappear, some of the good ones too, uh
"So you're not around people anymore?"
"Why?"
"Cuz, feelings can be controlled by people not genuine?"
get so far, can't go any further, because of a lie
---------------------------0---|--------------------------
4---------------------------------------------------------
-----------0------0---------------------------------------
4---0--------------------------------0--------------------
----------------------------------------------------0-----
0
a pretty tune for when your all alone
a pretty song can make you cry
another song kill/forget
\The road was empty, neither car or truck.\
a sentence can make you frown
another one laugh
0 167 8--6
| | /
1-45-89--
| | \
7 234 7
drugs can make you smile and screw
suck someone's :D too
seven seven
someone can make you love, at least try
and another one make you hate
----------------------------------------------------------
----------------------------------------------------------
----------------------------------------------------------
--0-0-0-0-0---0-0----0--------0---------0---------------0-
----------------------------------------------------------
"or because they are they also contingent?"
everything everyone is contingent on another
"You really believe that?"
love, death; life too
"some stuff, not all but some, outs your control?"
0
---
---
---
---
---
as long as you. . .work. . .behave. . .shut up. . .look away. . .suck
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
"Stuff makes sense!"
yeah I guess
A = no job (more and more breaking rocks at the gilded poor houses),
B=
no home (not property, someone else property unless you count the
couch, some coffee table bought at Kmart), C = no w/health (perishable
chump change in the bank easily erased by inflation)
D = no commercial company for the night
---
---
-0-
---
---
[Time out. Rewind, duncun donuts off the turnpike; snowing remember,
tourists and truckers trekking in mud and cold,
I read that book you gave me, some monk, seventh century,
his fucking observations: puke and the black dungeon. Crazy, man,
pain,
fear, greed, make a man's body do almost 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: some sleep
deprivation, some blood letting, some head compressions, and dude
killed his bud with a big old rock while old bud slept; they told him
bud was the problem, easily understood bud taking food off someone's
plate; they promised him freedom, sang and told him stories, him
almost
a hero, dressed gangsta, hat tilted, whole lots women too, stuff like
that, who wouldn't fucking kill, four black brick walls, no sun.
Other men forcing other men to do stuff all because, doesn't even have
to turn out right, only 1 man needed here, opps, no, no, ten men were
needed here, next time get right. Old, blind, deaf, get dumb and
dumber.
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, love it, crazier too, nothing like it anywhere else, and I
read a lot,
describing both men and women ejaculating their fluids all over the
place, blind fold, rope, wet mouth, and the naked body does it all by
itself, the mind usually goes along with it after a while. Can't get
off staring into someone's face after a while, gets harder and harder
to do older a dude and chick get. Feel sorry for the poor buggers
blind
folded imagining some babe only to stare into the smiling face of some
fifty-something year-old perv after the blind fold is removed. I like
how the monk ended the book, he who controls black dungeon controls
man, or something like that, been so long you know, to tell the
difference between black bricks or green trees and blue sky, makes
sense too now, your comments, better not be taken alive, sure you
might
survive, maybe even die an old man, lots of grandchildren too, but
you'll be dead, so will your grandchild one day too, and someone,
somewhere, far way, a candle, black patch and 77, will remember, you
survived and stuff you want to forget, ignore, change, first in your
mind, then in everyone else's. Stuff you do, or anybody does, 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 friends 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, haven'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.]
"Some rather live, play, listen, and die to lies, never take that
blind fold off me.'"
too much sometimes, wouldn't wanna change that, no one wants smell the
breath of their master; who cares more: liars, the good ones not the
cheaters, don't want to hurt anyone's feelings, or people who hurt
other people's feelings because they don't want to lie. Who cares
more,
who do you want to trust, trail's end?
----
----
----
----
----
0
idiots
|JUST BECAUSE YOU AREN'T AROUND PEOPLE DOESN'T MEAN THEY DISAPPEAR|
a shadow here, a memory there
AND a whole lot of make-believe
"And, when you think of people, people you have known or people you
don't even personally know, 75489 39482 92845 02932 jumping of that
building after you left, another one getting of a boat, long time ago,
crawling into a jungle, only a story left parting a drunk friend's
lips, some others honest, good, a little dumb too, oh so terrible
deaths, are there more frowns than smiles?"
"Each one dies with a smile?"
don't try to think of people
hard to.
Everywhere, there are everywhere
Tv
Mags
Driving down the street
"Maybe you stamp your frown on their dead smiling faces?"
just on some, others, someone smiles back enough
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?
Dead?
"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, lies, and dead white teeth, and cuz their
stupid feelings disappear when frowns are everywhere,
and the only feelings that matter arise from her grave.
0-
--
--
--
--
but no smiles or frowns anymore, people slowly being purged from my
mind now, for feeling can be
controlled now, lies or truth, to painful to know, to seek, to reveal
know, long ago, love, hate, life or death, and death.
"fiery light in a black sky?"
count and someone faraway checks, as simple as that
people's life and death has to add up, more than contributing
to the world of the survivors when everything runs out (play what-if,
I
play what-if all the time, and baby, people don't play fair just
sometime because depending what side your on you don't notice) and the
weather changes cold, seen the trailer, or contributing to anyone's
happy little story, sweet, happy little endings for everyone, or at
least to anyone that really matters, bitch writer, and her finger
puppets, and botox won't help dear.
[Time out. Petro, OK, She smiled, lovely creature, and when I asked
the stupid girl why she smiled she didn't know why.]
----------------------------------------------------------
----------------------------------------------------------
----------------------------------------------------------
0------------------------------------0--------------------
----------------------------------------------------------
love me baby I'll love you back, or something like that
fin
-
You just might be the cancer not me, tripe