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Month the Seventh Pt.1

10.7.23 Late to the Game


I’m behind the eight-ball by way of paranoia. Everyone and everyone coming to get me. No end to the conspiracy. An endless string of intrigues that leave me feeling spent and desperate. The god inside is not very happy.


10.8.23 Take 2 and feel better in the morning


I feel better. The medicine helps. No drugs, medicine. I’m sick of everything that has been happening inside me. It’s been hell, it’s been trying, it’s been unreal. That’s all I’ve got for now, but I love you all so stinky much.


Dick.


10.8.23 God Hates You All


God’s greatest gift to us is that we are homos. That is to say (gender-neutrally) men.


10.10.23 The Men Who Stare at Goats, The Witching Hour, The Ricardian Calendar


Every month now has 31 days by my watch. It is easier to fool the world than it is to stop a goat’s heart with your mind. Witches don’t deserve to burn. 50 cent on the juke tonight, get rich or dye trying, and my hands dyed from the paint, red white and blue. I have a lot of fear, but fear is the Mind™ killer. Yes I own the word Mind now. Funny how the law works. Of course no one can own words, and no one should be able to own phrases. An unjust law is no law at all to quote the OG American King.


I’m terrified of dying. I’m in pain, but I can’t tell what’s real. I wish to live forever; is that too much to ask? Maybe, but modern medicine is a beautiful thing, and maybe amortality, the pipe dream, is actually achievable. Not sure I’m not at risk of stroke, but I’m still vertical, breathing. Cigarette clenched between my teeth, in love with this life, I resign my delusions, I step into the brave knew world and laugh.


–Richard.


Rest in Power Charles Bukoswski. Rest in Peace Henry Miller. Rest in nothingness Richard Dinon. I have stinky farts. From kombucha, I think. Bacteria can be good or bad, and I posit these were bad. I make no claims to immortality. I can easily be killed. I don’t know kung fu though self defense is second nature. I’ve shot guns but I don’t know how to load one and I’m legally prohibited from owning a pistol. Thank God. Thank god I’ve never served, even if I have had what could constitute military weapons training by some definitions. I’m a pacifist who supports war. Try and make sense of that.


Dick.


Somebody told me once they were going to try “.45 caliber therapy.” What an abuse of a peacemaker, huh? I’m so glad I’ll never take my own life, that is the greatest gift that God ever gave me. Son of God my ass. Jesus of Nazareth was Charlie Kelly for all intents and purposes. That is, He survived an abortion. So they tried to kill him, and then they killed him. Ain’t that a trip. And I’m not sure the HIV epidemic wasn’t his fault based on my Janna. But right knowledge is not everything, and I make know claim to know. I’ve only studied. And knowledge is power, but knowledge is not absolute. We are reaching the point where only taxes are absolute, I think. CA7. What does that even mean? Gibberish, I suppose. But fun. Secret agent man fantasies.


Alfonso.


Goodnight, may you not need luck. May all your evenings be peaceful. May all your lovers be kind. Peace and blessings on you and yours. Pace, Shanti, Aum. Steve Miller on the Juke, An unlit Faggot™ (Brittish Usage) on You Get so Alone at Times that It Just Makes Sense. Capitalizations mine, as they all are. My leg hurts, as if I broke it, but there is no record of that. There’s no record of a lot of the pain I feel. I just hurt, you know, and that sucks. I thought I was dying yesterday. Bern said maybe I was. Who knows, but I’m still breathing. I don’t know what’s real. I have a thought disorder, this much is established. I’ve done nothing wrong, even if I have been branded a Criminal™. As if the law was absolute and not of men. But this is not that forum. I support Law and Order, certainly, if Rule of Law gets out of hand at times. Prayers for those in Gaza. Prayers for all beings. Bodhisattva, Bodhisattva, to quote Steely Dan. I love you all so stinking much. I’ve got to see a dog about a man.


-Peace Frog


Send it care of the Sunday mission, Box #3. That’s all I’ve got for now. I hate Heroin. It took the truest friend I’ve ever had I think. I watch people suffer all the time. Women on the devil’s dick, sucking themselves dry for a little pleasure/pain. A virus, a virus, a chemical virus. Addiction is a disease. Trauma is the cause. I hate myself and I love myself. But I am not very afraid. I love you too, btw, and I don’t hate any of you even a little bit. I’m so happy I could scream at the top of my lungs. I never want to go back to my high school.


That’s enough.


RAD.


I guess almost enough. Tweeter and the Monkey Man might be my favorite Bob Dylan Song. I’d have given him the Nobel on the strength of that alone. I can’t stop, won’t stop. I like the process too much. Thank you Brion. You were a great man and also a good man, I suspect. Burroughs respected you and that says a lot. Maybe never a better judge of character. Except maybe Hank, Chinaski that is. I love his poems so much I feel like crying. Don’t be a journalist. Don’t put yourself out there like that. Have a little reserve, that’s why these go live once a month even if I don’t edit. I’m a writer, with a hatred for sequences of K’s. Some don’t go down easy, I will not go gently into that good night.


I don’t know what name to sign to that. But I love you All. I will play for your good. “Shoes” by Chuck Bukowski, read it. I disagree, but I understand. I feel old, but I am still young. Thank God. Hopefully a lot of years left. One cigarette left. Turning your orbit around, as they say. Should be in quotes but I’m saying it, not Jeff. Please don’t sue me. Don’t murder me, Dire Wolf.


I cut my deck to the queen of spades, and dug my own grave. Now I’m holding my breath. The Bible is a psyop, for the record. At least the gospels. Nobody can cheat death, not even God. And I posit Jesus was just a man. The second most influential man who ever lived (after Julius Gaius), but a man none the less. There I go, sowing Chaos. So I will reap. Or not. It doesn’t matter much to me.


Larry, I too have drunk and seen the spider, and changing world with word is definitively possible. You just must be impeccable with it. Say nothing you don’t mean, and not everything you do. I gotta run, I feel a poop coming on. Everybody poops as they said, and not once a week as Frank O’Hara suggested. Great Poets all of them. RIP Ferlinghetti, but we’re still taking pictures of the gone world. Read banned books, don’t do crime, be gay, but don’t do crime. The initial review of my first book came back: “Ferlinghetti meets the epic poets.” Bravo, Magnum Opus. Okay boomer, or Xer as the case was. Flattery is cheap, show me the money.


Goodnight,


–Dickie.


10.11.23 4 Am And she calls me cause I’m still Awake.


I’m taking double indemnity™ back from the insurance racket. I posit that it means presenting the same body of evidence for a different crime. That is all. One more thing. If the constitutional Originalists think they can strip us of the bill of rights, they’ve got another thing coming. I’m sick of despots, I’m sick of fraudsters. I’m going live ahead of schedule because I feel we have a crisis on our hands. I love you, lay your cards down if you’ve got em.


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