exeprt from memorabilia with sidenotes in parenthesis


you have to write this...this is our book; our book, the world. the world is a snake. He is the world, the chicken head, his concern is the telephones. the Christ...when he speaks, he speaks through the hole in his head. i am cut. cut me into tiny pieces. i'm not going to die. saving the world while my mind is folding like the letter z. my legs are flippers and i'm very long and i taste sugary-sweet. my body is cold, black, and hard. you must give this to the disciples of 11 17. my mouth is a mockery of cuts and bruises and scars. My napkin is crushed. i am the new messiah, i am the snake. my body is a snake, i don't want to move my tail. my body is exploding...i am going to fold up like a click clack toy. i feel like a ouija board. my hand fits perfectly between my muscles. my body is streching. i need a shower. i am a piece of play-dough. i need a tissue in these three fingers. Fred, this is my book(fred asks,"why am i writing this?") because if i open my eyes, the world will explode. my right hip is nailed to the floor through my left. i want to be a part of the carpet. my left side is paralized and i think i am a fish. Fred, you are a God, no sacrilige. i'm so mechanical. i'm in my own snot. it's so bright. i tried to get up, tried to escape, tried to run before it swallowed me up with it's big blue eye. it eats with it. So much snot in my head. i created my own language based on the english alphabet. evidence of this is in my right pocket. fred, you are a voice in my phychosis logging my psychosis. i have grape juice for blood. if i grow scales, will you take me to the ocean? i am Posidion. i am an experiment in a cage.


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