so i stabbed myself in the hand. accidentally, of course, cuz who the hell stabs themselves in the hand on purpose? and this lover of mine . . . brings me a paper towel and a bandaid for a papercut. i had to leave the room to avoid the fallout.

my writing hand, of course. cuz well, even if i'm stabbing myself in the hand on purpose--which i'm not, but i doth protesteth too much (or psomething like that)--even if . . . it would make far too much sense to stab the other hand, so i stab the one i use the most for all those nefarious things i like to do.

nefarious . . . ain't that a cool word. i don't know entirely what it means but it sounds just fucked up enough that it makes me wanna aspire to do it. or be it. or dobedobedo. it.

so i've got this quarter-inch deep writing hand self-inflicted stab wound, and yanno, it don't really hurt so bad. not like they say. i mean, yea it hurts like a bitch in heat who can't get laid. ever live with one of those? ape or fish, a bitch in heat is a beautiful thing to behold. and do. and be. and beholdbedobedo.

it's a cool thing to take a religion class at a secular university. you learn all kindsa crazy shit like that maybe the jihadists are right and maybe christianity as we know it really is a false religion. holy shit, did i just type that out loud? i shoulda; i'm up to 72wpms now--EVERYthing should be typed out loud by now.

see, i don't think that we're on The Way like they meant for us to be on The Way. we're doin some crazy shit that even paul would say oh-hell-no to. this shit about traipsin all over mesopotamia and fuckin up euphrates and tigris, it's a wonder we haven't got our karmic asses kicked . . . and for what? a few barrels of black shit that fucks up the environment from the moment it's airborne? and we wonder why we dehydrate. hell, it's a wonder we don't suffocate. i mean, hey i like cars and stuff just as much as the next ape and i'll miss'm like hell when they're gone--and they will be gone, you understand--but if mcdonalds erects service stations next to their drivethru, i'm there. hell, i'd be there anyway. me an' the mayor go way back.

everything is all about addiction now. it's as if the whole of christendom has been beatin the shit out of the judaists because the judaists won't acknowledge jesus of nazareth the same way they rec'nize adonai, and the judaists don't really care about the muhadmodeans or the christendoms as long as they can get the muhads off jude land, and the muhads are just kinda sayin 'leave us alone, you false and misguided religions' but nobody'll do that so we're all kinda in this jihad against each other. apparently jihad--holy war--is a very addictive product cuz we all just keep swallowin the reasons they give us for sinkin more and more of our resources into it. even the concept of holy war has changed cuz 'usetabe a time when the one who called war was first in battle, but now you don't even need to know how to fight a good fistfight before you send everybody else's mother's son into war while you sit on your ass rosiein out all damn day. so fucked up, this addiction to war we've got. ain't hardly nothin holy about it. anymore.

so i'm thinkin 'what the fuck' . . . apparently we're gonna fight somethin. don't matter cuz everything we're fightin is us turned outward. anti-self is real, like self, and when they collide . . . well, this is what we got. hmm

this popapeology shit's kinda cool. how come they don't sell this?