What am I doing?
I'm not really sure.
But whatever it is I'm doing,
I'm pretty sure I'm not doing it right.
…
Hello, stranger.
I am staring down at a tousled pile of tornout salt and peppered notebook pages parked encrumpled fecklessly on the passenger side floormat of my car.
It has been several hours of this nonsense now.
If there is anything of creative value to be salvaged within these wasted paper vellae then I cannot fathom it.
Were it not for the fierce northeastern wind I long since would have used these pages to write a fire into existence and keep myself warm against this present pressing cold.
It has been so windy and chilly and snowy the past couple days,
that I've more or less been living full time right here in the front seat.
The console is crowded with the mad quiet signs of my sad little self-imposed nomadic lifestyle, such as yuckily foodstained napkins and plastic Ramen noodle wrappers and a few cool drunken cardboard doodles that I'll probably toss tomorrow.
And the dash is a mess of windwhipped dust and a bunch of sundry objects that do not belong thereupon, like jetboil wet wipes sharpie spoon coffee mug and mace.
In the past 48 hours I haven't hardly slept but I have in fact managed to kill half a handle of whiskey.
Haven't showered in about a week and it's been three days since I saw another human.
You should get up and go for a walk.
But it's cold and windy and snowy outside.
I know but it'll be worth it though.
Okay well where should I go?
Up the road a bit I guess.
Okay well what will I find?
Wallace.
What?
Wallace.
…
He hung himself from a rafter. You'll find him up the road a bit I guess.
I walk up the road one mile,
two miles,
five.
I keep walking.
Wallace hung himself from a rafter, in his own home.
…
Snowflakes fly by feathered with ice.
The sky ahead is clear, but I can somehow feel the stormclouds building and billowing like a wildfire roaring of its reckless children riven and soaring with inextinguishable bloodlust right behind me.
I keep walking.
Hemingway looked his last at a shotgun blast, in his own home.
…
This crude high-country air smells lightly of harshness and lewd unhealth.
Looks like there is a car parked up there, don't recall seeing any vehicles go by me recently so they must have passed last night.
I keep walking.
Plath gassed herself, in her own home.
…
I walk up to the car.
It's idling.
Garden hose goes from exhaust pipe to front window.
There is someone in the driver seat.
I stop walking and I start running and I get there and I try to open the door but it's locked so I grab a rock and I hurl it at the window with every ounce of stupid human energy I've got but it's not enough the rock barely cracks the pane and bounces off and so I look around for a bigger rock but there is nothing to be found and so I back up a couple dozen paces from the car and I give myself a good head start and I start running full tilt top speed no filter at the car and at the last possible second I lift off and I hurl myself as violently and stupidhumanly as possible directly at and into the window and the window breaks and I break right through into it all but it's all too late because the driver is already dead.
…
What have you done?
I wish I didn't know.
Whatever your reasons were,
I wish you hadn't gone home wrong like that.
…
Farewell, stranger.
soooooooooooo.
what did you do with the body?
What body? No idea what you're talking about. The car was empty when I found it and that's not my blood on the broken window glass.
My mistake.
!SHOVEL
Thanks. You never know when you're gonna need to dig a large hole out in the woods.
You cannibal. Are you trying to be trendy? Or was it @otherbrandt?
Did someone mention cannibalism? Here I am.
Aha! You're the cannibal one. I felt it deep inside as I clutched all my organs protectively.
So the window broke and you broke through the window, but how much of you broke in the process of breaking? Actually I don't think I want to know. Currently I have an image of you breaking through the back windshield unscathed and landing elegantly on the passenger seat, next to the sad pale-faced fellow that happens to be @otherbrandt. But I also happen to think that this otherbrandt fellow is sort of like a Looney Tunes character, and doesn't ever actually die. So I assume he is topping you off right now - a happy ending of sorts. And I also have this feeling happy endings annoy you...got to remember to take off the rose colored glasses before coming here :)
You have lovely writerly handwriting. Almost a hybrid of print/cursive. Mine is entirely.
Just an arm but I have a spare and otherbrandt has two that are indestructible so I should be good.
I guess I don't usually gravitate toward happy ending material. Or maybe I'm just in a phase. I don't know. Just wait, one of these days I'm gonna troll you all with a beautiful rainbows and sunshine story with a happily ever after ending. I think I'll start writing fairy tales for children next. Are you familiar with Shel Silverstein? One of my all time favorite writers. That dude wrote some dark and twisted shit but he also wrote charming poems for kids. I'm inspired by his work.
Why thank you. I always kinda thought it was deteriorating as I get older but maybe it's actually improving with age.
I have read Where the Sidewalk Ends to my kids and they enjoyed it. We have a copy of The Giving Tree, but I find it totally depressing. Ha. I'm pretty sure during pregnancy I cried while reading it at some point. Partly for hormonally-charged sentimentality, and partly because I literally felt I was giving away my body parts at the time :)
I have not read any of his more twisted stuff (gravitating toward beautiful rainbows and sunshine and all.) What comes to mind when you mention being inspired by him is a children's short story we read recently from some random book I found at the library. Short story called The Splendid Cannibals : a village of people that are able to regrow their limbs end up selling off limbs to cannibals, but get so caught up in their greed and need to keep up with the Jones that they sell their tongues, which they cannot regrow, and therefore can no longer protest anything. It ends spectacularly with the cannibals tying them up in their gardens and feeding and watering them daily. I could see you writing something like that :)
Thank goodness otherbrandt has those indestructible arms. Maybe you can get him to break the glass next time.
Haha yeah The Giving Tree is super dark. I had that one as a kid. My dad basically raised me on Shel Silverstein, Calvin & Hobbes, The Far Side, and Dave Barry. Splendid Cannibals sounds interesting, thanks for the tip on that one :)
Shel wrote some not-dark stuff too, like did you know he is the author of the famous Johnny Cash song A Boy Named Sue?
otherbrandt was nowhere to be found that day otherwise I would have summoned him instead of risking my own life and limb.
What different creatures we are. I was raised on Golden Books and Nancy Drew - you know, pretty rainbows and sunshine. Sounds like your dad had a higher intellectual standard than my family.
I will have to look more into this Shel fellow. The boy would probably like more of him.
You've got to keep better tabs on otherbrandt. Never know when you will need to sacrifice him for the greater-brandt-good.
ARe you still alive!!!?? Who posted this? Is there an afterlife? I demand answers?!
Always demand answers. 😂
Never settle!! Oh oh, I am sounding like an Instagram improve your life meme! Aerrrghgh!
:OD
I agree. I've never done IG or the like, so I wouldn't know. I censor things like that right out of my world, so to me, you sound right on point. 😁
I'm happy to report that I'm still alive. Unfortunately I have bad news though—there is no afterlife.
Well, that is unfortunate. But how do you explain this? I died in 1465 and this has to be something?
You might be stuck in purgatory. I forgot about that one.
Fark!!! Thats what it is. It is remarkably like real life!
I'm not sure I'm sure what just happened and I like it a lot. That was fun dude like fun-fun. You gonna stay that way or what, head south'ish maybe?
I'm sure you thought about it already. Watcha thinkin?
Heading south here in a minute, then east. Can't handle the cold here for much longer. Plus I got some upcoming appointments in the midwest I need to keep :)
You're not sure you're sure? Cool, neither am I ;)
!PIZZA
Midwest ain't gonna be much warmer. Have you considered cleaning up campsites in Ca or Florida? That whole southern coast between Texas and Alabama stays warmer this time of year but freezing nonetheless.
I wanna know your plans dude, spill the beans.
Well, the midwest is my final winter destination and I have a nice warm place to stay there for a while :) But between now and then I'll be as far south as I can while staying at least 100 miles from the Mexican border since CBP has the bullshit authority to violate all of my constitutional rights within those 100 miles. There's some friends of that Texan I shot dead looking for me so it should be a fun time.
@brandt, he's really offering you a place to camp near him. I bet he knows all the special spots already. 😜
He doesn't know it yet but I'm planning to track him down in Tennessee when I pass through. I will be parking my car in his front yard and pitching my tent in the back. Don't tell him.
Oh, I'm so, so, so liking that. I won't say a word. 😉
Verification check:
Did you hear Brandts passing through Tennessee? I heard that somewhere, can't remember where.
I've always wanted to me a real life tracker.
It ain't easy work but the pay is outstanding.
I'm sure you aren't pink.
When are you sure? Also, you should like it a lot, @brandt's got it happening.
OMG @brandt, just another OMG. The way you write. You inspire me. T O T A L L Y.
I read "yuckily" and thought, love that word.
When you flew, did you sprout wings for the lift off? Are you some part bird creature? If so, what bird, birdy type bird are you?
Thanks for the kind comment and I'm glad you enjoyed the show :)
I don't recall sprouting wings but I might possibly be part hawk…
!PIZZA
I always, always enjoy your show. Part hawk, I'm liking that. There are many where I am and I've watched them for years. I saw one take out a pigeon in mid-air flight, four paces away, directly in front of me. Another time, watched one at the corner of main streets, standing proudly on a pigeon, slowly killing it with it's claws while it looked at people walking by. I never have my camera when these things happen.
That's some cold hard nature-is-metal shit right there.
It sure is. I love watching them, studying their behaviour. The way they wheel in the air and they hunt in pairs, one hides while the other flushes out the prey. I've gone off into my fixation on hawks now, LOL
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