Thought (from CBS 2's Late Late Night Programming)

I couldn't handle the day-to-day responsibilities of a serial killer. I like to get up when I want to get up. I don't want to have to get up at 4:27 to sniff some socks or something.

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A Story (sort of)

Geeks crowd the basement bright with cool fluorescent light. Its glow does not forgive their bad skin and cowlicks, their jumpy eyes and shirts tucked into underwear. They cluster around monitors, eyes riveted therein, hand shoved in as many pockets. Someone smells like nachos. A nasal buzz fills the room.

The Executive and Raj appear on the monitors. The Executive smiles, his teeth almost disguising the evil in his eyes. He pats Raj on the shoulder.

Raj's expression does not change, but he does not recoil. They must have practiced.

"We need your genius here, Raj," says the Executive. "I give you carte blanche to assemble your team. Neither you nor your team will have any social obligations. Together we will make history."

Raj smiles and touches his mole.

The monitors go black. Someone farts, a loud gruff bark. There is giggling and whines of protest.

"Does this mean what I think it means?" a boy asks a girl.

The girl smiles and shrinks away. This is what happens when you say yes to things.

Overheard in a Deserted Subway Station

Say hey! Bake my mind, kid. Gimme sum uh that mind bakery stuff. Put some frosting on that. Put some sprinkles on that. Why not bake a mind?

It's dangerous outside -- lots of crazy birds, crazy peckers. Be careful of those fixed false beliefs -- they got teeth. There's earthquakes in Japan. Soon you be saying doodle-doodle-do.

Outside! That's outside my mind, out in the ether-space with atoms and shit. Spinnin'. If I was in my mind, I would a word. I would speak a word. There's no word, like trusting my hips.

Random Tuesday

It's Wednesday, but you get it. It can't be random if it occurs on the same day of the week. Well, actually it could, but the odds would be against it. It might be witchcraft.

In the tub I fill the bucket with loud water. The steam smells like minerals. The suds grow gold, bubbles inside of bubbles, clear and shimmery, diffracting. There are no words.

Random Thursday

(Although it's Friday now)

In the interest of thinning these bits of life in my notebooks, I will be randomly selecting one every Thursday or so to keep us occupied. They are not perfect, as I like my writing, but they are something. Okay, here goes:

They spend their time convincing themselves that things are logical. We believe that everything is a cloud. Time is malleable. The points where we agree are where the wind picks up and blows us toward enlightenment.