the psychic call and two little poems

The brick in the wall could not forgive God for God’s impudent oversight.

The brick in the wall wanted little more than to fully exist in the world. The brick in the wall wanted to exist as a productive member of capitalist society. The brick in the wall was comprised of fifty percent clay and fifty percent severe existential disillusion.

The brick in the wall said, “Fuck you, God. My psyche compels me to save Third World children from crippling poverty. I feel compelled to save Third World children from crippling poverty by organising celebrity fundraising rock and roll aid concerts. Why have you made me an immobile brick in a wall? An immobile brick, in a wall that is very small? Unable to act with gall. Unable to act in any way at all.”

The brick in the wall merely wanted to fall.

The brick in the wall merely wanted to fall.

The brick in the wall merely wanted to fall.

“I am depressed,” said the brick in the wall, “I merely want to – fuck you, God.”

The brick in the wall drew me towards itself, scloser and closer, with its psychic powers. A sort of pull. I was hauling garbage at the time. I was a garbage collector. I had no real place in the world. I had no claim to a continued existence in the world.

I drove nearby the brick wall with my haul. It was impossible to ignore the psychic call of the brick in the wall. The psychic call of the brick in the wall. The psychic call of the brick in the wall. The psychic call of the brick in the wall. The psychic call of the brick in the wall. The psychic call of the brick in the wall. The psychic call of the brick in the wall.

I drove my haul into the brick wall.

The brick fell from the wall. The wall did not fall, only the brick in the wall fell. The brick broke off on the ground into its composite parts of clay and existential disillusion. 

Meanwhile, I died. I was not reborn. I had no claim to a rebirth. This did not sadden me.

The brick in the wall was reborn. It was reborn as a young man. A young man who saves Third World children from crippling poverty. Good on the old man.

2. You, too, can feel true emotion

 

Happiness.

Dgnwoguwneivqmpeqemcpqomfinrgudgfdgfgfsgsgfsrnbmvpweofmqiengioqerngp!

Fear of death.

Aaaaarrerrrrrwerrrrwerrrrertwrghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh! Ahhhhhhhhh!

Bizarre irreconcilable feeling #23.

Oh. Oh. Ee. Oh. Ah. Oh. Oh. Ee. Oh. Ah. Oh. Aa. Aaa. Aaa. Oh. Aaa. Eh. Ee. (Oh).

 

3. Insecure attachment

 

I. I. I. I. I. I. I. I. I. I. I. I. I. I. I. I. I. I. I. I. I. I. I. I. I. I. I. I.   

You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You.

I. I. I. I. I. I. I. I. I. I. I. I. You. You. You. You. You. You.

I. I. You. You. I. You. I. You. I. I. You. I.

You. I. You. I. You. I. You. I. You. I.

YouI. Iyou. Iyou. YouI. Iyou. YouI. Iyou.

Ioyu. Ioyu. Yoiu. Ioyu. Yoiu. Iyuo. Yoiu.

Yiouyouiyouyoiyuoyiuyoiuyoiuyouyiuyoiuyouyiouyiuyu.