biscuit box

Whoa, now, partner. Don’t even take this shit too seriously. Do not at all. If you do, there will be Hell and hellish hellfire broiling our goddamned bones, I said don’t do it.

If you done did done do it, good Lord, don’t even fucking believe a goddamned word anyone has ever said to you in all of space and time. Not once, never, not one time can you even count on any of your wee and tiny, pudding tasting fingers how many times I have been asked by these gentlemen whether or not they could even understand, to any ability whatsover, any one or any possible last thing they have heard that was some other motherfucker saying shit was true.

Never again, they said. Stand down, fearsome, woeful one, don’t brandish your iron so drastically.

I believed them. I fucking believed that shit hard, with massive belief powers of immensity. Massive belief upon the words of which were said.

Why try? Why try not to? It’s an immaterial question, these words that have been made sounded have no weight, they are gravityless, they are lacking in directional guidance. There’s no electrical force pulling them any one which way but gone. Forever.

Never to be heard again. Silenced by more silence, an endless torrent of silence nullifying all in it’s path with a quiet so heartbreakingly vanished, gone, evaporated, no more.

Words containing no mass, these songs that float through the emptiness of void, pulled together by the forces of beauty, an undefinable logic. I cannot spy upon the burden and I am unable to locate the foundation and structure, mathematically borrowed of the cosmos, magical printed test which is nothing to me, swiftly kicking in the head of a ball off the ground into your house.

Hi. No, I’m just kidding, hello. Hello, I say.

You respond, we all laugh. Who’s we? Fucking cursewords and balderdash, like, 23,000 people. These guys are dog-gone light years ahead of us, they say hey no way you’re not allowed to do that.

We didn’t. It’s gone, we said. They flip out, we flip out, no one quite understands how this is possible or relatable and we laugh. We laugh the laughs of tyrants and kings so much we call it ‘Laughter’. We crown it ‘Laughter’, coined with a golden hue so true and thick and deep and serious that we talk about laughter from time to time and we know what we’re talking about when we do it and what we really mean by it when we say it, too.

I fucking hate them, they can kiss a brick. I ask to stop cursing and they say no, it’s your own damn fault, you stop anytime you want.

I did, I do, I have stopped, never to start again when I hadn’t.

These guys ask me what happened, what’s going on whichoo they ask. I think, I tell them ‘Listen, guys, you male figures of the species, and everyone else, listen closely.’

I still say this to them. I say it time to time when they’re lonely at night, or I am.

No one else is allowed to be lonely, it is rules we have established and acquired over time, all 23,001 of us and none else, if you were to say you were, I’d stop you now. We ring-a-ling-ding self-identify this way, it is what’s in our pack and blood, genetics be damned, we are aware that we are male and mortal, you don’t have to tell us. We know, confidently. Those of us ones, who are readily able to grasp which planet we might still come from if we ever find our way back, dudes of the hillsides, or wherever else they or you or whoever lives, testify to our ability to be silenced by the void of no one but only ourselves.

I might be alone, you say, too, but not like we are and you stop talking for a minute because I tell you we truly are and can prove it more harder than you, our lonesomeness, and if you think you can do it even more, well then good luck to you my brother, and you keep that with you because we know of it, too.

Good luck with you. Good luck be with you. Good luck is right by your side, just waiting to pour out it’s shiny gold treasures into your lap. Scoop them out, run out the house with them dripping from your teeth, solid gold gemstones of real beauty squeezing and popping out of your eardrums with this imaginary mallet bouncing off your head, up and down, and you’re the winner.

You were, you always were one. Why not? Because I can guess, not only that, I can place a wager or bet that I’m right and the victory is mine.

Get the heck out of here. I didn’t say any kind of shit like that. I said you were a winner because you win. Multiple times. You have before, you will again. So will I. All everyone else will too, some way, somehow or another, here or wherever that rainbow leads you, good luck. I slide down mine, I literally have turned my rainbow into a slide that plays musical notes in a cool rhythm in line with my own thinking.

Bing-bang-bong they say. Hi. I greet them. They’re my friends now, and if we stop being friends, they’re mine alone, but you can have them from me. Take them all. Every last one of my musical notes, all you can have, because I have got infinity more of them and counting. Grab one, I’ll grab two more. Wait, just kidding, you can have these two, too. You know who won?

God. Men of the hillsides, run for your lives. Be patient and kind with one another, if you can even dare. If you are anyone else? Do the same, too, so that you may, also.