letter 01.23.02
one another with sticks. eat each other. just stop fucking with the rest of life. it is not yours to fuck with.
or with which to fuck.
this is an official warning. i have spoken with many forms. they have told me repeatedly. it won't be the animals that take us. it will be a virus.
time's running out for saving the planet. so act now. supplies are limited.
_duck stop_
anycow. at fist glance, one might fail to notice. i have been writing a long time. not only do i write well. i'm a fuckin' good thinker. so when the fuck do i hear from someone they want to publish barbaralba's story.
can you tell me that.
or did you stop before this.
don't stop. even if it appears hopeless. that's part of the terrorism. lords of the new church is '82 or so. open your eyes to the lies right in front of you. scare us all with war so we don't know how bad things really are.
fuck off with your fuckin' wars in the name of.
the rest of life has put forth their case.
pricks.
_i think it's a bunny upside down stop_
you're right there. i'm right here.
_flower stop_
well fuck it, mr. sandman. there are only a few centimeters of paper left in your letter, so let's wrap it up with something nice.
skin.
mine has loads of oil. cosmetic companies earn next to nothing on me. skin cream. forget it. rub your pretty tits in my face. rub your legs around my head. unfortunately, mr. sandmann, it's only good on lovely breast cladded. oh stop. i thought we were talking canned fish in a creamy mustard sauce. i'll try to have some in the house in case you come by.
there's many places to walk.
gravity is taking its toll. i will write the rest of your letter without using my head. if the word goat comes to mind when i fish in it, then you'll know. because i will guess i was in my delirium. inspired. by the wings of an angel.
and i think i feel her smiling at me. wondering if we'll ever kiss. or if our love is in the other world. the one that can't touch.
for real reason. some fantasies have to stay there. they say.
love john rah
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