My fur lined hoodie on, I’m working with bear medicine. Carlo a little cub. Utah located in the Western region of USA. It has got it’s name from the Ute tribe that means “people of the mountains” in the Ute language. When I’m naked I feel so vulnerable. I have to rely on my hair and beard. I’ve got hair rising all up my thighs. A little patch in the middle of my chest. Single digits around my nipples. Massive amounts around my penis and anus. On my toes and on my fingers.

Some days you get a break. Some days there’s no stopping the workflow. So, it’s nice to be able to lie in bed and let the words gently land upon your tongue. A Telegram lighting up your telephone. Somebody’s got your goat. Obsessed with games. A beta tester. Always trying to get things to work as smoothly as I’d like them to, maneuvering myself through possibilities until I can get a proper flow. Like a well functioning sewage system. A town well protected from fires. Some sort of llama park. A community writing center, where the kids can submit without fear of my red pen ripping them to shreds. Sentence after sentence, focusing primarily on the last as a means of discouraging dissuasion.

#bloodyeyeball. I’ve got my whole life ahead of me. Going from one screen to the next is turning my life vacuously vapid. All of the nihilism I’ve slipped into helps dull the pain of guilt which the remaining hope and faith bring about.

You’ve got a family to provide for, says my conscience. The day having rolled into the thirtieth. There’s no escape in stagnating here, not now. The floor is falling through. Retreating into your mind is not the answer.

I’m fairly well exhausted. It’s not the best state of mind to be in when preparing to depart on a cross country move. The neighbors keep knocking on my screen. My wife’s alarm is going off. The bookshelf still stands. There is a cum wad glued to my dick. The dog is sitting in the doorway at the foot of the demon. Don’t kick him, I tell myself. Please don’t kick him. My eyeballs are like basically, you’ve got to forgive us. They’ve been working overtime. Shovel, hammer, nail, tape measure. Story of my life. Digital expansion. The blog just about flat lining. And right as we’re going into the next phase. Salt Lake City here we come. My wife’s alarm going off. She’s asking me for another thirty minutes. Me of all people. One and done, I tell her, inching the minutes up.

We need more police in this city. The crime is getting out of control. I’m a total enabler. She’s addicted. That’s what she tells me. It’s why she’s sleeping in so late. I am up though because I’m used to this low down rung of the dungy lifestyle.

Coffee still in the pot from last night, cold and stale. The game lives on even when you don’t.  


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