Deleted from another board

[stilltrucking]

<center>
mingo wrote

and I love looking
into old wells
seeing the glint of water
in the dark bottom

</center>

William Albright, From Stone Age To Christianity
Check it out[

I like looking into those wells too
I will delete this later when I feel better.

I just feel like punching at someone right now.

I got the Baruch Apocalyptic blues again.




They used to tell me I was a precocious child, but it was just the autism I think. I had Aspergers, the little profesor syndrome, I think. But I think I may be a hypochondriac too. To this day I cannot wear a turtle neck. I can't stand the feel of anything around my neck. I think I think too much I think I should drink more and think less.

I don't know what that picture has for you meanings. But it tells the story of my life for over thirty years now. Ever Since I stopped fucking for some reason. I think it had something to do with self loathing and Silent Woman's abortion and the death of her daughter. Each one of those books on that shelf represents years of reading a couple of them I have been reading over and over for thirty years. Not the Vonnegut novels, those I am reading for the first time.

I think half the shelf is about Plath. The shiksa who was so stoopid about electrocutions that queer sultry summer day they executed the Rosenbergs. And I was amazed that a WASP would care about the death of a couple of Jews. I was 13 years old that summer. It was a hell a time to be a paranoid Jew boy. A dirty feeling. Kind of how I feel about Madof.

I was thrity three the year I discovered The Bell Jar, I have read it more than eight times, maybe ten or twelve or fifteen. A good way to needle a woman is to tell her that a she reminds you of Sylvia Plath. Poor syslvia, I thought I could understand women, but what could I possibly know about a fatal case of PMS.


I don't even know how to spell pussy/pussey. You say it is all about pussey, maybe so. But women have their secretes too, and dark they are.

I think it is all about children myself.

[the mingo]

Hell I'm the last person to know anything 'bout anything. The words just pop sometimes. I hazard a guess, I got a permit for that. Sometimes I light a candle sometimes I snuff it out. I don't take it too serious. Serious is a dead tree. But there are things to shoot for. I tried to understand women once but then I realized it's all about the pussy. After that I was in the clear. Can't handle the wife beaters though. They don't understand women or pussy. I read Plath once. The Bell jar I think. Ol' Sylvia never had a chance. She didn't understand pussy. Had a woman once tell me that referring to a woman by her genitalia was uncouth among other things. I tried to tell her I was not talking 'bout genitalia but about pussy. Didn't make a dent with that cause she was trying to be a serious woman. Serious is a dead tree. I gotta fix me some toast be back in a moment... ... ...
... ... ... ...ok where am i now? No toast, I found I still had one English muffin left so I went with that. See how it goes? That's life for me, head out for toast and come back with English muffin. No question, just because I want to see the view from the highest branch in the tree that I can get to don't mean I wanna live there.
Good Mornin' to you Jack Looking, gotta go see the Mohawks 'bout some tobacco. It's an all day trip from here but there are parts of it I really like.

[the mingo]

PS - I almost forgot, you said you thought it was all about children. I wish you could have had some, Jack, you're a born father ya know.

[stilltrucking]

Beautiful image that glint of water in the dark well


I think it is well that I never had children, my temper too violent, or at least it used to be.

I still remember the feel of my mother's throat between my hands.

Nothing to do with this but

RE: Saint Paul

http://www.studioeight.tv/phpbb/viewtop ... 00&start=0

Interesting

[stilltrucking]

no man will understand Sylvia
what part of insanity don't you understand
not even her dead husband
poor old Ted "Agamemnon" Hughes
now there was a guy who was hard on wives
two of them both dead by their own hands
But his daughter loved him
Her name was Jan Kerouac

all about pussy and the children thereof
yes all men are born fathers
we could father nations sayeth the Sea Wolf

In our loins are the possibilities of millions of lives. Could we but find time and opportunity and utilize the last bit and every bit of the unborn life that is in us, we could become the fathers of nations and populate continents.

but not all men are born to have wives
all is well
amor fati


speaking of wishes

"let us go with the wind."

[stilltrucking]

better to have her silent dreams
than not

Once I had an elephant walk through my dreams
I am grateful for that.



Sylvia Plath darns my socks

[SadLuckDame]

What would I do without you without this place...
better to love, is one of the best discoveries.

Talking about what is unborn to be born,
what wasn't... now is
and what was dead is now a forest
where many things are living, thriving
and too, birthing.

I am grateful.

Grateful with you, Jack.

[SadLuckDame]

living in mind.

[stilltrucking]

Sorry dame I was editing and deleting stuff out of that post that I thouhgt whas not helpful while you were posting your reply. The parts that sounded like envy and self pity I cut out of it.



If you want I will put it back.

"with the sea I did abide"
I heard that song in my head the other day

[stilltrucking]

thank you for the reply

I got toad living in the planter under my tomato plant
a black shiny toad
I am going to kiss it if I can
it might be a princess in disguise
right now I would settle for a plump ripe homegrown tomato

[SadLuckDame]

Oh! yes bring it back in, please and tys.

This is very beautiful stuff to be awake on, Jack.

[stilltrucking]

here is the original post

some men get many wives
some get none

no dead wives
no ex wives


it is better to love then to not



no man will understand Sylvia
what part of insanity don't you understand
not even her dead husband
poor old Ted Agamemnon Hughes
now there was a guy who was hard on wives
two of them both dead by their own hands
But his daughter loved him
Her name was Jan Kerouac

all about pussy and the children thereof
yes all men are born fathers
we could father nations sayeth the Sea Wolf

In our loins are the possibilities of millions of lives. Could we but find time and opportunity and utilize the last bit and every bit of the unborn life that is in us, we could become the fathers of nations and populate continents.

but not all men are born to have wives
all is well
amor fati

speaking of wishes

"let us go with the wind."

[SadLuckDame]

Thank you, u.
Bees back later today. Gots to earn a pay checks so I might eat, haha
I'm always hungry.

[stilltrucking]

And life for the modern man has become an eternal Hell for the simple reason he has lost all hope of attaining Paradise. He does not even believe in a Paradise of his own creation. By his own thought processes he condemns himself—to the deep Freudian hell of wish fulfillment.

Tropic of Cancer the introduction.

I like that a lot.
Crazy Mike was deep into that Freudian hell

Nothing to mourn anymore


I am going to stop reading anything but the artblogs
I just hang around here

sorry to hear about the death of your wife.

[SadLuckDame]

But to me he was something special, he was my very own funny man out of all the others--

baby driver--Jan Kerouac
on meeting her father Jack
for the first time at 9 1/2 yrs old

Loved that line 'my very own funny man'

at mingo, I'm sorry too.
What can we do to help? I am not sure what has happened...