This is not a metaphor.

There is a heaviness inside of my bones right now and this is not a metaphor. My jaw is heavy and I am sitting with a slouch. There is something big inside of my skull and it is working with the earth's gravity to put me into the ground. This heaviness is a magnet for earth. My head is filled with bricks and the dust is pouring from my ears. There is something heavy inside of me. I am trying to find it, to show you what it is.

I am closing my eyes now. Let's see...

I see a giant white radish and it is growing from my head. The radish is too big to pick and everyone is scared to pick it, even me. We don't seem to think that it is pick-able and even if it were pick-able, who would eat it? I wouldn't. That's gross. That's been in somebody's head, I would say. I see a waiter serving a giant radish on a silver tablet to a snooty couple and they are making a face like, Gross dude, that was in somebody's head. The waiter looks embarrassed like he hadn't noticed. He will certainly have a tiff with the chef.

I am now returning: There is something alien in my brain right now and the next time I am having dinner with my space colleagues, this thing will burst from my head like that alien that came out of the guy's stomach in the first part of Alien. Sigorney Weaver and I will then make intergalactic love. She will say something like, "It's soooo big...Is that--is that a radish?"

I am feeling better now. I don't feel so heavy. I am glad for that. For a little while I felt that maybe this is what zombies feel like when they first start becoming zombies. I'm sure this was not their first choice of career. I am sure their mothers are all disappointed. I am sure they wish they could have intervened.

3:49 AM

tonight i walked with richard through the woods in front of his house in the fog with the industrial church parking lot lights going off behind the trees. we walked to buy a gatorade at the private academy that I used to go to. It is a closed campus which means that scuzzballs like us weren't supposed to be there at that time. and i was nervous that some teacher that I hated from high school would find me and tell me to get out and leave and then tell other people that I was roaming the campus at night, looking through the windows of the girls' dorm in search for young vagina. this was not true and i was nervous and richard kept talking and I kept looking around and seeing all the beams of industrial lighting that the industrial lights made when their powerfule industrial rays coming through things blocked and unblocked. we walked up some stairs and i heard an animal calling from the darkness and it sounded like a kitty so I squatted down and called it and it came to us but it wasn't a kitten, it was a fucking cat with the worst fucking abandonment issues that I have ever seen in either man or beast. it kept walking in front of me and lying belly up right where i was going to step. this made me very angry. i accidently kicked the cat a few times because it was so needy, it was soooo needy. it was so needy that it made me kick it. i had to kick the cat because it was needy but i didn't do it on purpose because i love animals (my brother does not love animals because he eats them...that fucker). we finally got the the soda machine and i looked across the campus and saw that there were little new things everywhere, things were much nicer than when i had been there last at 17. now i'm 22 and i was here again and i saw a bench that our class bought for this girl that died in a car accident in our class and she was very pretty and once i saw her without makeup (she wore a lot of make up but she was pretty and looked exactly like a barbie doll) and i thought she was the prettiest thing i'd ever seen and she blushed and i was embarrassed. they had moved that bench (which i can't imagine anyone would sit on) and now it was next to the soda machine where richard was buying a gatorade at 1:30 in the morning. now he was looking for a dime and he swears he had brought exact change and he asked if i had a dime (i was wearing shorts with no pockets, i couldn't possibly have had a dime. i looked anyway) and i got more nervous. and this cat kept rubbing on my legs and i was going to get caught in this place, at my old high school and i would get in trouble again like i had in the 10th grade when two friends and i snuck off campus and went to make out in the mother's room at the church across the street. i was nervous but richard found the dime and bought the gatorade. we started walking back and the cat kept following us and lying belly up and asking, just asking for someone to be her friend and to tell her that she was beautiful and that she was worth something and that there was a reason for her to relish her "slut pride" and i was very sad and angry for and with her. and when we walked back down the stairs, the cat stayed up high on the wall and watched us go. i was sad so i called to her and she jumped down from a really high place and i know cats are supposed to land on their feet but i'm pretty sure it must have hurt her to jump from so high. then she followed us to the end of the sidewalk and we kept walking down the hill and she stayed right where the cement met the asphalt and didn't take a step further. i didn't turn around and it cried for us and it sounded like a baby was dying and it kept asking for us to come back but we didn't, we had a gatorade to drink.

writing is a liar's business and i am working very hard so that one one day i will stop lying and then able to tell the truth. this is something very difficult to do while writing, to tell the truth. but i am practicing truth-speaking by way of lie-telling, at least honest lie-telling or rather earnest lie-telling. when the time comes for me to speak some truth i will not only speak this truth with conviction and zeal, i will have cultivated the face, rhetoric, and poise of an honest person, thus making me a better liar. every day i am becoming a better and better liar and it is for the best of humanity and the uplifting of my fellow man.

they say satan is the father of lies but really maybe he is the father of romance. the fall of man bore hatred, hunger, and kathleen woodiwiss. in the garden, planted near the fabled fruit of eternity, was the bushel of embellishment and what a beautiful little shrub it must have bee with the roots of narnia and middle earth beneath it. and me and j.k. rowlin will make it to second base once we're both dead. she'll suddenly conjure issues with her childhold involving an old flame which she feels she must haunt now and i, once again, will be left with my thumb in my mouth writing little stories on napkins and leaving them for girls to find so that one day they will tell warmly the story of how we met and how i never told a lie once, that even i, a writer, never told a ghostly lie. so that is why every day i am practicing for that one moment where i tell the truth and not tell a lie, even an honest one.

last night i hugged a crying bartender

i am in denver write now. every day i get up and go to central library and sit down somewhere, at a desk, and write everything that i am doing and have done in denver.

last night i was at a bar with my friend chrissy. "let's get fucked up tonight," she said. "Okay," I said. So we went to a bar and got took our time getting fucked up. there was a dumb asshole of a girl--she was still--child who was loud and disgusting and a terrible human being. i saw her go into the bathroom with her boyfriend and they fucked (prolly) on the sink and made it all wobbly.

We ordered beer and sat at a table and we were quiet.

my father is liar just like me. when he's embarrassed he acts like he is not the way that i act like i am not embarrassed when i completely am. he tries to save face, he tries to not look dumb the way i try not to look dumb when i completely am dumb. he tries like i try.

he once had a dog and it was named Kasan.
i want a dog and name it Lorezno.

tipsy.

i once dreamt that i made out with bjork in a middle school hallway after a poor brass ensemble performance in the cafeteria which doubled as an auditorium after school. tonight i was riding home in my brother's car with the windows open and no one said a word. we were driving home after having sat in the car outside the duplex my aunt and cousins moved out of today and drank beer. we were listening to bjork on the way home and i thought about how she is a mother. i wondered what it would be like father bjork's children. what kind of values would bjork and i instill in our children? would we teach them rebel against us as authority figures? i imagined bjork giving birth to our first child and all the pain and terror that would occur in that delivery room. and maybe she would give us more children and i would be so grateful that she was willing to endure the pain to make us happy with so many babies. when the baby's head slipped out of her vagina i imagined the giant tear from lips to asshole as the child was born. she would cry out and i would be holding her hand and then we would look at the baby. together. and like my mother told me, the pain would all disappear and it would be something completely new. and we would look at the baby with the newest eyes we'd ever had, trying to match the even newer eyes of our beautiful little baby. i wonder what it'd be like to have a baby with bjork? i imagine she would be a wonderful and nurturing mother.

one time i found my brother asleep and i lifted up the covers and saw that he'd fallen asleep while masturbating...either that or while scratching his balls. in any case, his hands were in his underwear when he was sleeping.

i slept in my underwear last night on the couch in my the living room of my parent's house. my briefs were bright gold. i slept near the window. i hoped i wouldn't be scratching myself at the moment that i fell asleep in case anyone lifted up my comforter. i wouldn't like for people to think that i fell asleep masturbating.

i've been pooping blood lately. this not a joke. i'm scared. what kind of disease do i have? i have a strange growth on my lip, too.

i walked in on my parents praying today. it was awkward. i didn't know what to say. we had never had "the talk". I wanted to run out but strangely I also wanted to pray.

it is raining now. i watched a possum drown in our ditch. it had no way out.
i am in arkansas, now.
i live in arkansas now.