hey austin,


I'm impressed, mystic webaster nailed it, says I am the internet, period, leaves me to take everything from there.

He says let's not promote troublewaits til this has been straightened out (??????), fine by me, site looks

like shit. the shit.

Ok, townfolk been harassing in newly strange and mortifying ways, vultures, treating me like software beyond their ken. Tragically obvious, I don't wanna look at that, I got it now, thanks. They think fuck, I should know this, uh-oh, clueless, uh-oh, she knows am clueless, wow guess I have a thoroughly unwarranted baseless and swaggering ego, and she still will not extend herself.

Fuckin right it pisses them off, next step:

attack her.

Nice try. This what they taught you in college?

People like me

(inner lives)

bring out the seething pit of compulsion in the good, well-adjusted people. Wanna fuckin interrogate me while light years away from the first fucking intelligent question?! Tryin to unwreck their psyches by wreckin mine. They have neglected theirs, I could care less. Don't take your bullshit out here, I'm busy starin at the wall.

How do hard, unsentimental people like me handle this nonsense? Makes me psychotic. That's a bad area. I see what happens to empty people when they're around me, I'm not interested, is none of my business, I understand the discomfort, is as interesting as the next dot.com billboard, a blight on my consciousness, absolute fuckin snore.

I know it's hard, it's supposed to be dipshit. You be the billboard ok, I'll be the internet, how does that make you feel?


Nothin pisses me off like being yanked into a matchbox that won't hold my clothes. These people went to college? What goes on in college, aren't people there taught to allow their perceptions to inform their actions, in other words, give spooky trouble some room to fall over, don't talk to me about me, I find it embarrassing. People act surprised to hear this. Nope, wrong again, I am not the one full of surprises today, go home, look at yourself, be, just go, you hurt me.

Ten minutes later and they're back. Very concerned about my erratic and incivil behavior. Is it the fight they want? Yes. Starving for genuine acknowledgement. This is so over-rated. Gimme a break, austin, talk amongst yourselves, thanx.


Meanwhile I have to learn wizzy wig, some website saving routine, sounds like one I should be able to manage

(retarded, your fault- see meltdown, thanx).

I can be generous when appropriate, so here come new bags of apologies to my whipped-dog community,

turns out they are the least of my problems right now, is actually probably doin me right these days, I am a house manager see, have 20 errands to do in 6 hours, non-stop banality, shopkeepers, I seek respite in palace of the dispossessed, mojos, sometimes the music there is ok, sometimes appalling, but the outside tables are guaranteed to be useless for writing, except the ones that are taken by non-writers, whole fuckin venture waste of time, no other coffee house any good, right? Let me know, this is better than gettin bogged down all day drinkin in a working class dive, filthy mexican restaurants (authentic), whatever remains of real people's places, that's where I go for coffee and containment, go in shattered, shaking-wound-up, temperamental, figuring shit out, what is this thing I know has happened to me? Is this grief for my invisible psb friends, I thought the deer took care of all that. Now uncomes lili, ok, give it time, sit, play juke, if youíre told to go re-mortgage the house at twelve

years old then thatís what you do, itís not like you have

much choice in the matter, and maybe afterwards your parents will love you. Thatís the carrot: prove your love, handle our finances. It changes a person, the carrots, know what I mean?

Thank god I hate my friends, thank god they understand that, they know what it's about, without this understanding there'd be blood on my walls. Why don't the good people get this? They're supposed to be helping, but are only interfering, that's all they do. Fuck with me. It's a bad area.














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