been locked out of my community now for 3 weeks, 1 to go then i'm back in for however long it takes them to catch me at it again. troublewaits will keep me straight, i don't like being away from psb at a time like this, that's where my friends are. most of my friends hate me, which I find reassuring, b/c deep inside I know they don't, they're good people, just going along out of mutual respect for the special ways i set them up.
if i had the time or money or authority or automatic rifle brigade i'd make the whole room stop, look and listen to the difference between the sociological concepts known as primary and secondary deviance. mighty handy fightin tools, oh yes we are at all kinds of war these days, newest being the unlittle unlovely and all but winnable lets-all-try-to-ignore-it-american cultural battle, are you gay or are you insane? don't ask, don't tell. I just remembered that lesbianism was considered for most of my life a certifiable mental illness, do you have any idea how many free work day no-shows i missed out on:
tell the boss i won’t be in today, i seem to be coming down with a bad case of homosexuality, right, calling in gay today, thanx, gotta go here comes my enema.
war chronicles. i am vietnam and i have a question:
who's side are the doctors on?
enter bob dylan. tie him to the chairseat, please i'll hand out
notebooks and pencils all around, and oh, right, don't forget the puffs.
of course you think i'm talking about marijuana now. this is going
to be a long night.
so my friends at psb are doing what i'm doing now
too. everyone went off the rails there man, and it was hard me being kicked
out, unable to correct all them dysfunctional behaviors. but at last they
are talkin about her, writing poems, askin why, sayin i'm sorry and will
never forget you,
this is better than all the bickering that's been goin on over administrative
ho-hums, people connecting now, holding hands, SAR would want this, bringin
it all back home, whole community back together again, that's what she
does.
meanwhile i'm clinging to mr. dylan's soggy front shirt, his records cost less and last longer than people, nothing against people, I’m just pointing.
wondering how he could have been her hero, and did we make all that up the way humans do, share the guilt i spoze- if bob dylan couldn't reach her how could you expect me to? fuckin cocksucker bob dylan, you'll be hearing from our anti-semitic lawyer, too, any day now, count on it, jew-boy.
so i'm in her archives, yeah, looks like he was
one of her heroes, his concert this year was a highpoint in her life, but
the nature of concerts is to be high points in your life, so, not enough
data to draw solid conclusion.
but they played dylan on the jukebox at the funeral, so it's something
she put out there, and we managed to pick it up you know. we did manage
to pick that up.
then i reviewed her written list of favorite songs by bob dylan.
i should have gone lookin for her right then, the first time i saw them,
atrocious, oh how they made me groan, but i was thinkin about her future,
what bob dylan had in store for her future.
this was a kid, 24 years old, she never even heard highway 61 revisited,
that's all i could think of for 2 days after, imagine going to your death
never having heard hwy 61 revisited?! desolation row? it could have saved
her. i told her, we all told her go buy this record right now, even gave
the price and store where it is cheapest. she wrote back and said tower
records made her nervous. krazy kid. you take care up there.
love,
trouble
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