Untitled Story

Date: 04/08/22 Time: 3:47 pm Location: Los Angeles, CA 4800 Hollywood Blvd, 90027 It’s been four days since you arrived in LA. The weather has slightly fluctuated between a high of 87-94, with a non-moving low of 65. Because LA is a basin, the air doesn’t move much, causing your skin to be covered in a cities molt. (sweat mixed w/ car exhaust) Strangely, the smell is comforting because it reminds you of your ex-boyfriend Josh. (align:"=><=")[Isn't molt supposed to be indicative of a new stage?] Well, another thing is that life has stopped moving on, and butterflies have gone extinct, rather they have suffered from paused development, staying forever Pupa. Some say it’s from the acidity of the rain, but the funny thing is it doesn’t rain on the old Art Deco buildings, only on the new condos – the ones no one liked but those devoid of feeling. (align:"=><=")[ That’s why you’re at the hollyhock House, because you can feel, feel the miss of Josh, who smelled like secretions <#3 ] It’s a Frank Lloyd Wright on top of a hill, the height of the sea. You look down at your space grey iPhone, because it's buzzing like a bee,… don’t worry bees still exist, they don’t molt, we need pollinators and poppies, and the acid rain doesn’t hurt their wings, A message appears from an unsaved # The area code is from your hometown (XXX) ''Txt – Hey... Do you wanna go c the new Cronenberg movie with me at the cinema? '' Response 1: [[Who is this?]] Response 2: [[Who is Cronenberg?]]

Date: 08/08/22 Time: 12:00 AM Location: //Hometown, USA// Another four days have passed and that number with the area code from your hometown never responded. Whoever they were, //as if they existed no longer,// - because the signal was never reciprocated – must have really not wanted to be known. You start to wonder if it was a hoax or a strange coincidence. There is no recollection of giving your # to someone from your hometown. //HOMETOWN, USA// is for one thing only, and that’s family, family, and your dog. It’s a pretty place, with lots of trees. The rain loves trees, and they somehow do well, despite the acidity, the only thing is, certain trees have started to have blue leaves, as if everything is drowning. Luckily your hometown only has these trees on the outskirts, by the railroad tracks. Now most of the places you have been spending your time with have no trees, just the buildings the rain forgets about. Which happened to be places with a lifeless mystique. //For Context:// The only reason you were in Los Angeles, was to get some rare blue poppies, to preserve them in resin and sell them on eBay for 4000 dollars each. [[ONE OF THE MANY CONSEQUENCES OF THE RAIN.]] And you got a handful of them behind a gas station the day after that number texted you with the same area code as //HOMETOWN, USA.// (align:"<==")+(box:"===XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX=======")[ However, it was undeniable that LA had a mystique in the human consciousness – Somehow in this frozen age, it was rational to assume the cultivation of extortion, of things that sipped vile syrup, was the only possible outcome for the past arenas of allure.] It was under these conditions, that the text from (XXX) seemed like a divine sign to return home. Along with the call from your Mom about the almost death of your childhood dog. You love your family, you’re not crazy, or empty, you’re ripe to love those who sprung you out, down the line, into 2day – the reason why you haven’t been in //HOMETOWN, USA// for the last 3 years. Including Christmas. Because you believe that you need to get away from connections, of the sort only a hometown can provide, to gain an illusion of selfhood. //For your mind:// In order to get that illusion, you had to follow three steps 1) Breakup with Josh 2) Leave //HOMETOWN, USA// 3) Stay away from //HOMETOWN, USA// The first step was the hardest because Josh made your heartbreak from the time you first met, in the hallway of //HOMETOWN,// HIGHSCHOOL (align:"=><=")+(box:"===XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX==")[Obviously, that had to mean something…] You’re sure it did but realized it would take too long to know what that something is. So, you saw the three steps through, as if they were rites to becoming a real person. //X AS IN YOUR INNER THOUGHTS:// Should you have gone to the theatre, and tried to catch the person behind that singular message, who never responded, and somehow 1000’s of miles from //HOMETOWN, USA// had the same area code? Could it have been … [[JOSH?]]

Date: 04/08/22 Time: 4:30 pm Location: Los Angeles, CA 4800 Hollywood Blvd, 90027 You text //‘Who is Cronenberg?’ //to the # with the same area code as your hometown, the truth is… you know who Cronenberg is, he’s that director who made horror films with Debbie Harry, and he made the 1996 epic ‘//Crash,’ //yes, the horny movie about cars that reminds you of Josh, because he fixed cars and smelled like period blood. However, you never tell anyone that you like the movie //‘Crash’// or that you know who Cronenberg is because that makes you look like a try hard, and onetime Josh’s brother ‘Lucer’ said that you try too hard, so now you silently go see //‘Crash’ //at the movie theatre that’s from the art deco period so the acid rain doesn’t start falling through the ceiling, … at least once a week to think about Josh, no one is supposed to know about this habit, because Josh looks exactly like a young James Spader. After 43 minutes the phone number responds: ''Txt – I've seen u at the Los Feliz theatre twice at Cronenberg showings in the last three days, I got ur phone number from a receipt for a showing of videodrome u bought on the second of August at like 7:14 pm, not a creep I promise, in fact I think we went to the same high school back in //HOMETOWN, USA,// '' ''My name is X – I'll be there tonight at 8, sharp'' Response 1: [[Block the sender, and rent //‘The Fly’// on your hotel television]] Response 2: [[Respond ‘I guess I’ll be there, not convinced u aren’t a creep..’]]

Date: 08/08/22 Time: 2:30 Am Location: Hometown, USA (align:"=><=")[''Edenic Fall''] You make another piece of toast, wonder bread, butter, sugar, and cinnamon. Pull out a pot, put it on the burner, and don’t wake up your family. It is not respectful to come home and disturb at 3am with the squeal of a tea kettle, those who are sleeping. But you feel a scratch developing in your throat, instead of calling the vet about ‘Easy,’ you know it’s time to schedule a doctor’s appointment and get tested for that sandpaper quality down the larynx. There are many doctors in HOMETOWN, USA, so you can't get tested for all the possible things wrong until the morning, the doctors have the time to only be there for emergencies in the deep hours of the day. In the newspapers //NOW//, they are saying that oral sex is the leading cause of cancer, and that presents a new solution. For orgasms which have been declining ever since the acidic rain started falling, … cause most people's pH balance is heavily influenced by bodies of water, ruled by the moon: such as pheromones and orifices. Yes, of course, you were born on moon day and therefore have large moon eyes, and have always been /ever since someone declared right into those beads\ in the hallway of your high school, had //‘dick-sucking eyes’// It has for some time now been developing into a problem because people can tell when you like them… people like Josh, and that made you powerless, a basin, a hole, the new orifice. The water is boiling, bubbling over onto the stove, sounding like waves and stones all at once, such is tea, you fell in love with tea when your mother took you to Paris at the age of twelve, this was before Josh, and before breasts, but at the perfect age when one is somehow aware of eroticism. ` <a dunked, frayed, copy of Nabokov’s 'Lolita' was already on the nightstand> ` At Mariage Freres, you found //‘Black Orchid’// tea, it smelt like molasses and the color white, sappy purity, ever since you have always had a canister of it in your Hometown, USA, cupboard. You pull out the metal tin to access the loose leaf, and unsticking the top of the canister, you reveal a moth that had snuck into the tea. A dead grey moth, who looks like what the tea smells like: Response 1: [[Pick the moth out of the tin]] Response 2: [[Leave the moth there and decide to bury the tea canister]]

''(align:"=><=")+(box:"===XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX==")[Consequences of the Rain]'' [[The Trees]]: Able to withstand the acidity by turning blue. [[The Poppies]]: Only certain species have survived, the ones that are blue, although research has not been done yet as to whether they are the same enchanting Meconopsis, known by the name, ‘Himalayan Blue Poppy’, that existed before the rain. [[Reproduction]]: Mass decline in fertility rates across all land mammals, including homosapiens. 1 [[Butterflies]]: All things that must molt have gone extinct, the only exception is Bees and Wasps. For unknown reasons, the acidity of the rain seems to un-tomb molten creatures while they cocoon, and then eat away at their undeveloped flesh. [[Bees]]: Bees and Wasps are neither blue nor have suffered the fate of Butterflies and Moths, they suffer primarily from a lack of flowers – as few are able to consume the deeply acidic soil across the world - [[Buildings]]: Architecture that must face the acidic rain, turn blue, and corrode at a rapid pace, however, only certain buildings (mostly modern / unornate) seem to be the target of the rain. It is important to note that it has never been accepted that the weather can be cognizant of what is below, let alone prefer certain places to pour, and other places to not pour. Yet the rain's uncompromising pattern has forced scientists to grapple with something other than condensation occurring above. 1 Also note that some speculate the absorption of the rain through the skin of mammals, leads to a pheromone disruption, resulting in an overarching disinterest in sex for mammals. The rain can be found coming out of mammal skin primarily through the metallic scent that permeates the atmosphere.

Date: 08/08/22 Time: 3:00 Am Location: Hometown, USA Picking the leaf of a body, out of the Mariage Freres Black Orchid tea, you wonder how old this moth is? As all the transmutative creatures have dissipated from the earth, after the years of rain - that has stopped life from progressing - Now this cherished relic of death, as in life that once was able to recede and then protrude: a life that once was, The moth had amounted to concealed perfection, this is the beauty of scent… you think. Should you put it in resin? It probably is worth more than 4000 dollars, worth more than a blue poppy, poppies are nothing but wishes, now sad wishes, but still, the memory, … no the exhibit of a moth was something so immediately valuable it should never be sold, only cared for as the new Madonna. `Never again will you most likely be met with dust and Black Orchid tea, as you were in this moment, ` But such a find is worth a note, and your childhood home is filled with half-filled diaries to finish with the words of scent, leaving the moth sprawled on top of the tea canister, you climb upstairs, up the creaky stairs of a// HOMETOWN, USA//, house and turn the crystalline knob of your childhood bedroom. Preserved by your Mom because she cherishes you, as you cherish the moth, never mind fertility in days of the rain, you enter your old bedroom, in its seafoam arms, and look straight on to your bookshelf in the right corner, by the window, overlooking a meadow. Yes, every window had a view of a meadow in //HOMETOWN, USA.// Then you remember why you are here, to write: so hopefully one day you will read, and ensure a never-forgottenness of the moth and black orchid tea A classic black and white composition notebook titled 2009 in childish handwriting, on the bottom shelf waiting for you, to remember, as that was what childhood remained as, But inside you find lots of embarrassing, exposing lamentation from your teen years about losing your virginity and regret. And look there is already a connection between you and an Orifice, you and Los Angeles. (align:"=><=")+(box:"X")[''May, 2013''] (text-style:"bold","italic","underline")[Hollow, pause … hollow, pause, my step tells me I have lost the heel of my boot. I can feel it is on the left side, my foot touches the ground harsher than the right. A new supplementary orifice that I cannot close, the ears, nostrils, and vaginal cavity’s new companion. As the ears are forced to hear, the nose to smell, and the sex once identified, the boot with a hollow heel signals an empty nest. (emptiness) What can the boot conceive? Finding its rubber sole on the street or corner, where it may have fallen off. The rhythm of my step on its way to a destination. Is there significance to the boot being made of wood? These leather capsules have no maker. I bought them online and I remember the box was a decayed shade of white. They sat on a shelf for a long time, the owner had no occasion to wear boots that scraped the insides of her knees until she gave them away. Their value was in their anonymity, and the particular shape of their toe box, squared but slightly rounded, harmonious in delicate and utilitarian qualities. ] What on earth could you be talking about? You think: This entry has the possibility to make holes appear on the body, to make you an inverse of the moth, a creature that doesn’t mutate but disintegrates into the cavities it employed onto itself, in that way like a boot, and also like a bee with its act of defiance being its amputation. A pair of boots matchmade with the vaginal cavity? How objectifying… You begin to wonder if your relationship with objects is harmful, or dangerous, even. But what if it is a corpse, or a miraculous event such as the new Madonna: a moth in a new canister Response 1: [[Read more of the diary]] Response 2: [[Read more of the diary ]]

(align:"=><=")[''The Trees''] I eat rain because it is Blue Blue, as I was once Brown and Green Now, because of my Skin I can speak To the sea And the sky (align:"=><=")+(box:"=XXX=")[</style> <img src=https://i.pinimg.com/564x/b4/15/54/b415548ce3ff8e98ec60386420304772.jpg> </div>]

(align:"=><=")[ ''The Poppies''] (align:"=><=")+(box:"=XXXXXXXX=")[They will never know Because my protector Gnaws at their microscope If I am changed? Of course I have In this monsoon of lust!] (align:"=><=")+(box:"=XXX=")[</style> <img src=https://i.pinimg.com/564x/99/e9/5d/99e95d208b060a9a1bb6da26e3d4fec4.jpg> </div>]

(align:"=><=")[''Reproduction''] (align:"=><=")+(box:"=XXX=")[</style> <img src=https://i.pinimg.com/564x/0d/f3/4d/0df34dead32c3787b4c0a50fe0c35dfe.jpg> </div>] (align:"=><=")+(box:"=XXXXXXXX=")[The egg With its nucleus Has transfused Onto The bodies Interior lining All the sperm Coagulates there Outside its shell ] (align:"=><=")+(box:"=XXX=")[</style> <img src=https://i.pinimg.com/564x/5f/ba/d3/5fbad30f23726b435dae846bec0a4759.jpg> </div>]

(align:"<==")+(box:"X=")[''Moths '' //MMMMPH MRMRMRPHHHM There is no cashmere in heaven ]// (align:"<==")+(box:"=XXX=")[</style> <img src=https://i.pinimg.com/564x/78/23/aa/7823aa0a64e55647a2cbbb5bc4c10371.jpg> </div>] (align:"==>")+(box:"=X")[''Butterflies''] (align:"==>")+(box:"=XXXXXXXXX")[There are no nets, to grant me a Name] (align:"==>")+(box:"=XXX=")[</style> <img src=https://i.pinimg.com/564x/07/14/86/071486d1af9350528b5ba225f4ae7e26.jpg> </div> </style> <img src=https://i.pinimg.com/474x/40/07/63/400763d6f62bc9ce4ab30980cdb14507.jpg> </div> ]

(align:"=><=")[''Bees''] (align:"=><=")+(box:"=XXXXXXXX=")[We survive, simply because We risk] (align:"=><=")+(box:"=XXX=")[</style> <img src=https://i.pinimg.com/564x/1d/63/ff/1d63ff6f56dd5931972d5e9c6aec6d05.jpg> </div>]

(align:"=><=")[ ''Buildings''] I alone, carry The burden Of judgement Upon The construction Of beauty, A measure Of labor In its divinity Determined by the torrential To have My bones As drink (align:"=><=")+(box:"=XXX=")[</style> <img src=https://i.pinimg.com/564x/43/77/58/437758e40473b62223eb1e22bbd29a1a.jpg> </div>]

Date: 08/08/22 Time: 4:27 Am Location: //Hometown, USA// ~~The purpose of this text is to inject personal history with our internet history, an illusion of choice. ~~ Looking for an answer: but for the first time, it’s something you already said. Maybe this is the real journey back to //HOMETOWN, USA,// which (XXX) began. You can't believe you were ever capable of writing something that possibly had meaning. Something that was written and then sent to become dust, waiting on a bookshelf. The entry wasn’t even complete, and nothing on either page before or after had anything to do with orifices or boots. ''THE PAGE BEFORE'': //2015 Undated I had violent dreams. There was a newspaper where each page was printed with ‘SPIRITUAL’ And ‘SUITRA’ I guess a subconscious misspelling of sutra? The day before the dreams, I burned my skin from the sun. Allowing for a hot forget. I also lost my camera the only one with a manual flash, I must have left it on the bus and now it is gone. The warm forgetfulness. I cried on the bus before I lost the camera. Because a song mentioned the region, I am in. // ''THE PAGE AFTER:'' //2012 June 4th Residue: Memory of omnipotence // Looking at these entries you felt nothing. There was nothing keeping them together other than your eyes glossing over. It felt hopeless, this act of trying to find an answer in your own work, in yourself. There wasn’t really anything there besides places outside you, like dreams, omnipotence, and even memory. Maybe the Orifice was a spark of some thought that wasn’t even yours, but someone else's, an intrusion of the membrane. Well, now you're confusing the mind and the term membrane. You always skipped biology class, even though it's now practically your domain. With the blue poppies in your //HOMETOWN, USA f//reezer, the little ice formations on their petals wait for your resin. You felt the poppies voice now, calling you from downstairs, and then it was the moth's voice, dry and flat in the tin, a tin seemed too lightweight to be a tomb. ''(align:"=><=")+(box:"X")[HOW FAR YOU ARE FROM MEANINGS VEIN]'' That’s the purpose of Josh, to have some story that then led to every other decision. It’s better than the story of you being born because in some way you chose Josh, and you did not choose to be [[Born.]] Why Josh was not in the diary, struck you as part of the problem. The history you had written had nothing to do with your train of thought.

Date: 04/08/22 Time: 8:04 pm Location: Los Angeles, CA 1822 N Vermont Ave, Los Angeles, 90027 (align:"=><=")+(box:"=XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX=")[''folle biche''] Online: the brief phrase ‘//ANATOMY OF A FALL’// was displayed somewhere in the mirage of words underneath your most recent search term [`Los Feliz theatre address]` as you try to recount what word the guy with the area code from HOMETOWN, USA, used to describe movie theatres, and settle on //‘cinema’,//… you could go back and check, but don’t like looking at text messages: little blurbs of nothingness get on your nerves It's four minutes past eight and no one who could possibly have an area code from //HOMETOWN, USA//, is around, none of them stop and stare at you, it’s as if you don’t have a body, no one wants to use you for a body except for the stranger who sends text messages about Cronenberg, with an area code from //HOMETOWN, USA// Perhaps him wanting you as a body is a false inference, he could have been castrated, or be a woman, but a woman would never sound like a guy with an area code from //HOMETOWN, USA, //and then yes, … you feel the buzz, the space grey iPhone notifies you once more …like a vibrator the shape of an emaciated brick, no one can get off with the motor power of something abstaining, those things in chronic starve, are perhaps the last ascetics on earth, on the western earth, which like Freud said is the only world in which you can deny your death, only an unconscious knowledge (from the east) is aware of mortality, (text-style:"superscript")[aMEN, aaaahhhhMEN,] where is this guy, (text-style:"subscript")[agjhhhhhgghhghh Men…, ] oh yeah, he texted you, idiot, thinking about jerking off, and Freud, you can’t keep track of these signals- ''TXT – Sorry, I usually don't run late, I’m just in the parking lot listening to the security guard talk to me about his daughter, I've known him for a while, no need for you to know all of this, but I'll see you in a sec'' ''TXT – I promise ;)'' You don’t respond because a guy walks up to you, and he’s smiling like you’re the one who asked him on a date, and you swear you have never seen this face, and it’s swarming over you like a wave, and then he’s rushing you to get inside so //‘we won't miss the previews’// as he ushers you into an aisle on the right side //‘cause that’s the side of the church I always sit on with my family’ // he says, and then //‘I’ll be right back I’m going to get red vines’ // you wonder if the receipt where he got your phone number was for red vines cause that’s your favorite candy to eat at the theatre, and now you're in a dark chamber, with advertisements for local artisanal jewelry flashing on the screen, then a page thanking the donors As you sit on the red plush seats with the ghost of this guy, who doesn’t smell like anything other than sage, the sage makes you feel dirty, rather contaminated almost … a hermit, who smells like a house, even though you haven’t been home in nearly three years, The whole duration of sthe film, you had tried to hear the guy (with a body,) breathe - so you can dispose of his sage status, //HE COULD NOT BE AN ASETIC, //but the whole time he is silent, only the score of mutilation plays, and it must have looked like you were leaning in toward him, already tipping the scale, even though he dug your number out of the bin, //you r prayin // (align:"=><=")+(box:"X")[[[LAPSE]] \\ ‘CRIMES OF THE FUTURE’ RUNTIME // 1HR 47 MINUTES] The movie begins to conclude: all about the mutilation of the body

Date: 04/08/22 Time: 8:20 pm Location: Los Angeles, CA 7000 Hollywood Blvd, 90028 You’re back in your hotel room, and you realize there is no one you know in this town, besides the names of B-list celebrities, (like James Spader) the reason you’re here is that the acid rain which wiped out butterflies, and frogs, is the strongest, the most acidic - here - the most noxious air in the //‘developed world,’ //causing various abnormalities in the weeds, specifically poppies, which have turned into a shade of turquoise, the opaque blue blooms only in the city of angels, leading to a cultivation of the poppy as if they are a breed of rare orchid `<Remember that rare orchid that bloomed at Charles de Gaulle airport> <It fed on the rare chemical exhaust from planes,>` //WHY DID YOU BLOCK THAT NUMBER?// //(align:"<==")+(box:"=XXXXXXXXX")[ You’re young, hell it could be fun to have a story, to be around a guy who thinks you’re pretty enough to steal their number from the bottom of a receipt, that’s an ego boost, enough to turn blue, no need for acid rain, stalkers are all a girl needs, but you get why you did what you did, if you died you couldn’t put one of the blue poppies in resin and sell it on eBay for 4000 dollars, yes 4000 dollars, and with that money, you can live at the Los Feliz cinema for like a couple of months, or like get a used car and have Josh fix when it breaks,]// U also just like putting things in resin, and U just like eBay, like to make little lists of fossilized coral from that shoud be at the Natural History Mueseum and Vintage Elvis Presley bomber jackets, never to buy just to cultivate, like an orchid, and with the rain you can’t really go outside too much, so now orchids really feed on ice cubes, while you really feed on eBay Wishlist’s. [[ONE OF THE MANY CONSEQUENCES OF THE RAIN.]] You come up with a new search `[Vintage Cronenberg] ` and press the magnifying glass next to the search bar Nothing really comes up, you r bored, the hotel didn’t offer //'The Fly'// for rentals, you call Burbank airport and decide it’s best to leave Los Angeles early, you already have 6 poppies ziplock’d in the hotel mini-fridge, where 2 go… Response 1: [[HOMETOWN, USA]] Response 2: [[Salem, Oregon]] `[You begin to pack your bags, and quickly unblock + text the number with the area code from HOMETOWN, USA: //‘wyd?//’]`

Date: 06/08/22 Time: 4:57 am Location: Salem, Oregon, Oregon is one of the worst states in America, not because it isn’t beautiful, but because it is haunted in a soulless, vacant, completely uncanny way, not human enough, not natural enough, and the only reason you would ever come here is for the dunes, dunes, represent concealment, a 4ever concealment always moving, and in that invasive, challenging manner of swallowing things up, you relate to the dune, For some reason, you’re up and you can’t go back to bed, probably because you're at a shitty motel and didn’t eat dinner only drank Coca-Cola, the two molars in the upper part of the back of your mouth are sinking into the gum line, but you can’t help yourself with Coca-Cola `<Your mom always had a bottle or can of coke in the fridge when u lived w/ her, and the only time you ever got to drink it was those nights she didn’t ever come home, just left u in the apartment along 45th St, and you hated the noise of traffic, and schizos screaming, so you would put on a movie & sip away>` it's your only vice besides wasting fantasy on an eBay Wishlist, Speaking of … you found something new, something that seems to perfectly encapsulate your life at this very moment An old copy of a Truman Capote compilation entitled //‘Music for Chameleons’ // in a blue font like the poppies frozen in another one of your hotel mini-fridges, the seller is requesting 110 dollars, that’s too much for something that gets to lie around forever, while you die,- you decide to message the seller ~~''’60?’''~~ - In less than 30 seconds the seller responds ‘~~''stupid slut’''~~ You try to send a message back, but the seller already blocked you, there is a nervousness swarming over you, you thought you were like a dune, and then someone says you’re a slut on eBay, and you get all willed up, like a scared bunny rabbit, such a prey, and the predator isn’t even real, it's virtual, cause we all get eaten by the rain turning the poppies blue You look at the weather forecast and see it will be dry tomorrow, The only thing is the dunes are like an hour and a half away, and you can't drive, Response 1: [[Schedule a Lyft]]

Date: 06/08/22 Time: 5;22 am Location: Salem, Oregon, Phone says that you can have a car come pick you up at 10:35. Seems like a good time to begin the day climbing over sand. That will probably be tiring, and you haven't slept at all yet cause there is a storm. Storms in places you didn't know that well were frightening because you perceived them as the weather, the powers that be, personally declaring you as an intruder. The duvet and bedding of the motel are starchy, and it makes you feel like there r bugs all over your skin. Your psychologist connects repeat sensation to having lice repeatedly as a child, Once your mom threatened to shave your head And Once she took you to the hospital, for the little white bugs. Beyond that idea, it was the oversensitivity of your nerves, they couldn’t be turned off, and the only time your body went silent was in sleep. You are beginning to reach the wall where it all unfolds, you swindle yourself (with sweatpants, a sweatshirt, and socks from Walmart, to avoid the starch sensation) in the sheets. Response 1: [[Arrive at slumber]]

Date: 08/08/22 Time: 12:10 AM Location: //Hometown, USA// // `<You did delete his number a few months ago because he wouldn’t stop calling you, even though he had Cindy at his mom’s house. What a loser, having Cindy at his mom’s house… Josh is like seven years older than Cindy, and Cindy’s tits are disgustingly large. You remember in LA seeing kids on a playground throw water balloons at each other and when the water balloons popped, the kids screamed. Now it dawns on you that the balloons were about the size of Cindy’s breasts… Josh prob screams every time she takes off her Victoria's Secret pushup bra because she's young and prob still shops at the mall, (if the mall even exists anymore) and she prob believes in advertising, … and is really dumb. You know you could do better than Josh, cause rich guys like small breasts, breasts the size of figs with wasps inside, and anyhow Josh was broke, a mechanic, who smelled like blood, and guts,>`// And through the process of elimination, Josh had no idea who David Cronenberg was. The one message had immediate implications, indicating being in a 2-hour radius of Los Feliz. Josh had never been to LA, once... a long time ago you thought about bringing him to visit your cousin who lived in the suburbs taking care of his disabled wife. Yet when you were in LA last you didn’t even think of staying with your cousin, let alone the possibility of Josh really being beside you. His name was the gleam of the sun on all the cars, still to speed, driving on the highway, beaming lots of heat, just from a reflection, nowhere near the sun itself, the person itself, because LA is in a pit. //X AS IN YOUR TRAIN OF THOUGHT:// Did you even like Cronenberg? That would be the reasonable question, not to transfer all thought over to an ex-boyfriend. And the answer was sure, because there was lots of almost realized horror in Cronenberg movies, and horror was becoming closer to truth as time went on. Although the last time you saw one of his films (at the theatre near the hollyhock house) it was for the practical need to take a nap. So you could rest without the worry of rain falling in through the ceiling because it was an old place. And because the prolonged usage of hotels, never really living places, caused a disorder of thought, imagining all the people who used the bed before you. Why didn’t you stay with your cousin? Because you had become an extractor of things that would one day be the things of before, like the bodies of people who used the same hotel room. Stacking upon each other, slightly crumbling, the blue poppies you would cover in resin on Tuesday. Remember you are back in //Hometown, USA//, now because your dog ‘Lucky’ got his foot cut off by a truck. Lucky is your childhood dog, you would cut your arm of for luck. Instead, you have been home for a day and a half living off of white bread with sugar and cinnamon on top thinking about texting Josh and wondering who (XXX) is. The vet also treats Josh’s dog ‘Easy,’ because there is only one vet in all of //HOMETOWN, USA//, you wonder if you should call the vet and try to get Josh’s number. Never mind the time, because there was only one vet, they had to be there 24/7. The only thing is you’re staying at your parent's house and the walls are paper f*cking thin, stupid dumb Hometown, USA house. Not austere like the hollyhock in Los Angeles, CA. dumb and thin, why couldn’t you just be dumb and have big breasts like Cindy… Response 1: [[Make yourself another piece of toast]] Response 2: [[Go to bed]]

Date: 08/08/22 Time: 12:34 AM Location: //Hometown, USA// Its finally time, after all of your ramblings, to go to sleep. Atleast they are not frozen, thoughts are able to be deleted. And for dreams it is necessary for them to be gone by the morning. That was the border between the real and the imaginary, sleeping and waking, you couldnt invent during the day, only in the night, and it was detable if it was really you even in the deepest strata. Walking up to your childhood bedroom, //(painted)// almost the same color as the blue poppies, you thought about how lucky you were that your mother always kept things as they were. Upon enterance it was confirmed, nothing had changed. On the nightstand was a bambi clock and in the corner was your bookcase. You saw out of the corner of your eye your old diaries and promised you would visit them in the morning, now under the covers you succumbed to [[Dream]]

(align:"=><=")+(box:"X")[Born in the early morning, Location: ''HOMETOWN, USA, '' Coordinates: //Earth, Solar System, Orion Arm, Milky Way, Local Group, Virgo Supercluster, Laniakea Supercluster, Universe //]

(align:"=><=")+(box:"X")[<img src="https://i.pinimg.com/564x/a0/7a/3d/a07a3d95f72527c31282936ca282553f.jpg"> <img src="https://i.pinimg.com/564x/b2/98/20/b29820420afe5f40eb1d0f78728b47df.jpg"> <img src="https://i.pinimg.com/564x/8f/c4/c1/8fc4c1badf447f83c3730240da9a9700.jpg"> <img src="https://i.pinimg.com/564x/51/7b/b1/517bb12d0c01d0ca4f13c38eec0672ea.jpg"> <img src="https://i.pinimg.com/564x/19/c1/ff/19c1ffd1465550f55966e028d81045ab.jpg"> <img src="https://i.pinimg.com/564x/ee/ba/10/eeba10d5532b6eb105e15f0b0e6f8f29.jpg"> <img src="https://i.pinimg.com/564x/9b/03/ba/9b03ba5581f3f90d27c8126fad07dbf9.jpg"> <img src="https://i.pinimg.com/564x/9f/fa/86/9ffa8695de361945ac0b22e7bc39171f.jpg"> <img src="https://i.pinimg.com/564x/f6/93/60/f69360dc2281ee8a855171e81308e0f7.jpg"> <img src="https://i.pinimg.com/564x/bc/bd/c7/bcbdc7a77665d35fba26574a44d99082.jpg"> <img src="https://i.pinimg.com/564x/80/43/f4/8043f4b68f8a4b1864433522a1ef8f64.jpg"> <img src="https://i.pinimg.com/564x/df/19/88/df1988d0c763551dc5be6e04c7a0bbf0.jpg"> <img src="https://i.pinimg.com/564x/cc/2e/89/cc2e891e9ae6ef5ebc42b86d53cfc968.jpg"> <img src="https://i.pinimg.com/564x/6b/42/8f/6b428fba69f60fd30f6ab125ddcaf5b9.jpg"> <img src="https://i.pinimg.com/564x/12/9c/e8/129ce81cd4db6b6540f5d50cae61055e.jpg"> <img src= "https://i.pinimg.com/564x/a4/43/ee/a443eedfd67103966a443b6a7304d147.jpg"> <img src="https://i.pinimg.com/564x/2a/d2/28/2ad22867eab84d39ed8c35b9900cd370.jpg"> <img src="https://i.pinimg.com/564x/c9/35/06/c935066b9fa62a6c39568a4c8741bfc7.jpg"> <img src="https://i.pinimg.com/564x/ac/21/a3/ac21a3930e4c1f1db015928bee964b09.jpg"> <img src="https://i.pinimg.com/736x/7d/2f/96/7d2f96b6430aeaf9e4e33808f7fc30be.jpg"> ]

Date: 05/08/22 Time: 1:45 am Location: Los Angeles, CA Near - 2375 Glendale Blvd, 9003 //Fuck this sickness// - you thought, as your pelvic floor muscles continued to spasm, as they have been spasming all week, Out of stress You’re not getting old yet, just old enough to not come home for almost three years, … well maybe you lived with Josh, in between two spaces, when you were seventeen, and now you’re in your twenties and life is there, all before you, but the rains have changed things on a mass scale, ambitions are low, things are only bought if they are seen as an expression of some innate human mode, So the phones have been clogging the rain drains, the metal and glass start turning the color of new sheets washed with an indigo pen, stacked like faulty stones, ''FUCK'' you’re on the street, wandering, outside of that dude's truck, you just sort of got out, like your mother, she did that, just up and left, while you were there eating a pb&j, You wondered for the first time what this guy thought: … and then assumed this was probably something he did often, grabbed receipts out of trashcans, at places attractive people must be, perhaps it was even a gamble, will this girl be hot enough to inseminate or will he need to use a rubber You always took offense when guys wanted to wear a condom, Even though it had only happened once in your life: with the guy besides Josh, whose name you dont remember, not in a whorish way but in a way that there were only two men who you sleep with: ''The one'' who won’t use a condom out of divine selfishness and (in your mind) the secret desire to procreate with the woman And the ''Other'', who thought you could give them a disease, more than they could possibly give you a disease, and saw procreation as the worst disease of them all You did not like men who truly never wanted to be fathers They could say they didn’t want to be dads, but you often heard it in their voice, secretly they often wanted to be tied to something / rather someone, other than themselves The men who did not flash that //break in the voice//, brushed off the idea of having a child earnestly, and always came across as doomed in a way that evaded sympathy, destroying any reconciliation with the ideals stitching up who you really are Not to suggest you are a child inside, scratching at the walls, the uterine lining, that Josh smelled like sometimes, somewhere: possibly in a dream you and Josh had a child The rain has completely taken away fertility, you don’t know the science behind it only that you don’t get your period anymore, and that you’re not pregnant ''Condom Theory'' still stands as STDs are rampant, STDs do scare you, but you thought it was a part of sex for it to be a risk, sometimes that risk becomes too bold, like the guy with the truck, and you jump out or succumb, before you can know what side he is on Response 1: [[Find your way to the Hotel]]

Date: 04/08/22 Time: 10:27 pm Location: Los Angeles, CA 1822 N Vermont Ave, Los Angeles, 90027 ~~//The movie begins to conclude: all about the mutilation of the body//~~ ''‘Did you like the movie?’'' He asks //‘Yeah I did’ //you respond, (you’re not sure you did, but it was what came out of your mouth) ''‘Cool, well again apologies for the lateness, it's just that the security guard of that lot has known me since I was sixteen’'' //‘I thought you said that you went to the same high school as me?’// You caught him, earnest and pointed, // HOMETOWN, USA, //was far from LA ''‘I just said that cause our area codes happened to be the same, I got my phone on a road trip from the West Coast to the East Coast and then to Canada and Mexico’ ‘I went to high school here in Los Angeles,’ He says a lot Of nothing '' You don’t recount the rest of the conversation because you happened to be blushing, and he followed the path and asked you to go to a bar, The funny thing is you don’t really drink, but you say //yes//, and then there is an inevitable sexual act in a green bathroom: It reminds you of Josh, ''the act'', because it is half out of instinct, half out of an internalized reactivity to Josh + Cindy You noticed: in the hallway outside of the green bathroom, there is a picture of a deer, and Josh always said you looked like a deer, he also called you a bitch,// in French, the word for deer is Biche// The boy who went to high school in LA, and doesn’t even know the name //HOMETOWN, USA, //asks you, … after you have confirmed an orifice status ''‘do you wanna come over?’ '' In a strange impulse, you want to ask what type of car he drives, you don’t know anything about cars, other than their proximity to Josh: the object of an ex-boyfriend's labor //‘sure,’ //will ensure you can take note of the maker and the model, of the car in the lot, he knows the security guard so there is no ticket in the windshield, (text-style:"underline")[‘don’t worry’ ]the missing ticket seems to say The car is an old truck, the doors creak when you open them, and when the ignition is turned on the pixies start playing, and you feel frightened by this whole situation, nausea, sexual nausea Response 1: [[Leave]] Response 2: [[Lay in the bed]]

Date: 05/08/22 Time: 2:27 am Location: Los Angeles, CA Near - 2375 Glendale Blvd, 9003 You ordered a Lyft, sobered up enough to watch the driver arrive: 3 – minutes to the Nissan is right in front of you, it’s time to walk forward. Your feet almost pause like they like being on the street late at night. But you don’t think that’s the full truth, cause you have enough strength to pull the door open and slouch into tan pleather. It smells like incense and the driver asks you (text-style:"underline")[how your night has been], you wish you had headphones, but you don’t, and instead you answer him. (text-style:"underline")[You:] //Its been okay// Prophet: Why just okay? (text-style:"underline")[You:] //Because I almost made a mistake// Prophet: But you didn’t? (text-style:"underline")[You:] //I'm pretty much unscathed// Prophet: What is your name? (text-style:"underline")[You:] //X, what is yours?// Prophet: Ahhh doesn’t really matter, where are you from? (text-style:"underline")[You:] //Nowhere, what about you?// Prophet: Not here ha-ha! But no one is from here really, and in that way I’m not special! You go home now ? (text-style:"underline")[You:] //Yeah, its not home – a hotel, but yeah// Prophet: You seem like you don’t stay places for that long (text-style:"underline")[You:] //What makes you say that?// Prophet: Because you said you were from nowhere – only people who have nowhere to go say that, or people trying to hide, and there’s not much difference between the two (text-style:"underline")[You:] //Do you like your job?// Prophet: Not particularly, but I like people (text-style:"underline")[You:] //Why?// Prophet: Because they have something to say and sometimes, they listen (text-style:"underline")[You:] Listen, you thought, you haven’t listened to someone so closely in a while, your cab driver was becoming a prophet – //I don’t feel like people listen to me// Prophet: Well that’s because you don’t listen to them Tell me did you have to dissect frogs when you were in school? (text-style:"underline")[You:] //No but we had to dissect owl pellets// Prophet: Did that bother you (text-style:"underline")[You:]// Not particularly // Prophet: That’s because you prioritize death, you think ... I bet, you don’t need to bother too much with life, with the positive because theres always the negative, always the fact we must die, all of us – (text-style:"underline")[You:] //I don’t see myself as that macabre, but I agree I don’t look for happiness // Prophet: Why? (text-style:"underline")[You:] //Because I don’t believe that’s how life works // Prophet: How so? (text-style:"underline")[You:] //Because I believe life puts what it must infront of you, and searching for things only disrupts that cycle// Prophet: So you don’t believe in free will? (text-style:"underline")[You:] //Not particularly, but I believe that we have a choice in weither or not we deceive ourselves –// Prophet: I don’t understand (text-style:"underline")[You:] //Neither do I // Prophet: Do you like living in hotels? (text-style:"underline")[You:] //No // Prophet: Why don’t you go home? (text-style:"underline")[You:] //Because I haven’t been there in a while, it just became out of habit // Prophet: You don’t love your parents? (text-style:"underline")[You:] //No I do, they just … seem like they will always be there // Prophet: So you do deny death then, when it comes to parents,'' Ah hah'' I see its authority which you put above all other things – Who has authorial right and can they write on your life (text-style:"underline")[You:] //I don’t know, I don’t like to see myself as a child, as helpless//, Prophet: You turn everything into your own direction, you don’t listen , or you don’t understand, (text-style:"underline")[You:] //I don’t understand, I don’t understand anything at all // Prophet: Hey listen, I don’t mean to be tough on you kid, hell we don’t even know each other, I just get a sense off of you that you need to go home, need to stop doing whatever you’re doing, not because its bad, but because it provides you no purpose, you seem like you have no purpose (text-style:"underline")[You:] //I understand // The Nissan swerved around the corner to the hotel in less than 12 minutes, no traffic, this place was different, you got out of the car quickly, wished the prophet a goodnight, walked past the hotel security, pressed the button of the elevator, went to the 12th floor and pulled out your phone to buy a ticket to go back to //HOMETOWN, USA,// You decided too – you should probably message an explanation to (XXX) you didn’t know what to say, so you just messaged (align:"=><=")+(box:"=XXXXXXXX=")[''TXT - SRY EMERGENCY''] didn’t spend too long thinking about if he would respond, you knew him, he knew you, and then the prophet changed everything [[HOMETOWN, USA ]]

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