how could you be so cold to a young man,

so cold to a still growing heart?

so cold to a confused stranger,
so cold
to someone that treated you with  respect.

I just
make a sandwich in the dark,

and cut a heart into the belly,

and bleed.

I am so tired,
and the internet has killled me,

and the hellopoerrts
and instramgrams
and facesbooks

and reddit
and goggles,
tired.

what even is human anymore? am I a human, or am so program?

I wanted you,

you wanted the software,

I wanted to be a glitch in the data.

I dont float,
I betray myself, I am nothing, I was something , I am nothing, do not haunt me,

do not haunt me. I do not exist I will die alone and inadequent,
and with unfulfilled desires.
the earth keeps spinning

**** THE UNIVERSE.

**** ANY ONE WHO CAUSED THIS,

I was      too     soft for this.                too soft for this     /l,//,/,/,//,,/,/,    h,lo -=o=o-gfko[sj[gdfj[gj[fdojo[gdfjogdfoj[hj[od]jphdfgjp]df

There was nothing I could do. I was a man now as of 4 hours and 22 minutes ago and thus needed to secure myself a job. I could no longer just sit in my room ******* and eat bowls of cereal and resign myself to nothing any longer, nor naively pursue a career in music that wasn't going to happen; I was talented but perhaps I didn't have the drive? I had to get a job. I had to 'do something', so I went online and found the first thing that popped up. It was Macys, a general clerk so I applied and of course the questionnaire was 3 pages and tested my aptitude. Did I have an IQ above room temperature? If so that'd make me a cashier, if not a boxboy. I ended up as a dressing room attendant.
     The interview was fine and was my first. I wore my dad's blue shirt and some shoes I stole a week previous since I didn't feel the need to buy shoes I'd likely be wearing once I rationalized.
I sat in the waiting room and it was before social media and smart phones so I thumbed through some magazines for thirty minutes then was eventually called. The interviewer seated me in a plushy red throne, and he had a nice haircut.
"So what brings you to Macy's" he said to me bluntly.
"I like this store. I shop here a lot and feel like I'd be a good fit" which was a lie; I never in my life shopped there.
" Okay, and tell me a time where you encountered a struggle, and how did you resolve it?"
I had to think for a moment, actually several moments and we sat there in uncomfortable silence for what seemed minutes. I was nervous.
"Ummm, a time I encountered a struggle and had to resolve it? Well there was a little dog that got hit in front of my house before, and all the kids were crying and I consoled them and performed CPR on that dog and he ended up surviving but died later in the hospital. and it was pretty traumatic and a lot of blood"
"okay that sounds heartbreaking, but moreso an experience that relates to working in a retail store"
"I used to sell cookies door to door"
"Yes that seems more relevant" he said while marking his clipboard.
And the interview went on and I felt for sure I blew it, but I shook his hand firmly like I'd always been told and looked him in the eye.
"Thank you, I really appreciate the opportunity" I told him while exiting.
always show gratitude they'd say; well I wasn't grateful and didn't want that job, but I read enough how-to's online. it was an act, an audition and I think I gave a good enough performance. A few days later I got the call and was told to come in for orientation.
I was trapped. It was the beginning.

I'm grateful to be here,

to see the vanquished cities as they propagate the vast expanse,

To hold my heart in a ***** jar with the wounded still crying out

I am grateful to breathe this air,

To see the tarry streets as they grip on my lost feet,

To see the fire as it's quenched with mortar



I am grateful

Grateful for everything, and everything I wish I could have saved; it made me a better man, losing it all and a piece of my soul

sleeping giants

in a trash bag
with the toothbrush
bent like a crackpipe under your boot.
why do you pretend you know so much?
  you know so little and that makes you one to admire;  strike up a conversation with a gypsy
and the
lighter magic will sway with you then.

   but if ukraine
dies, so does the maybe kids

you use my loneliness as a weapon

you reach out only to infest

you're a vicarious ****
, you revel in my sadness,
   the taste is
sweet, and if I'm buried
into my casket you will leap

rid you of me
rid every bit of you

rid you of me
exorcise
these demons from my head

Bought a gun so i know where my sanity lies

You can pass all the laws you like
But I still have it

I am mentally ill and i laugh at you.  Try to take it.  Loaded and ready but now I sleep. tomorrow the toast might be stale but not the coffee.
**** this country and *******.

All roots were torn,  we're a nation of insects. Made in China. Fill our hearts with plastic

he strangles her

breathing in a tube


fire fight

black cup full to a hazard   scaling the mount

too soon
to yell

hasn't picked up
mail in the yard

Tigger is in me
poking the dots  


caroline-
or Jackie,
or Presley

--
so nice --

staring without blinking --

talking then leaving.


stranded in your vacuum

I read today's papers in
disbelief

I talked to her for an hour on the phone and she called me babe and the night prior I was pounding her as she cried out and begged for more; I then pumped into her and watched a movie after whilst cuddling.
Now she deleted me.
This is why I say "they don't t belong to me it was just my turn"
I then get back on my app & match with a Latina named "Rain"

the air escaped the cramped room and made a large sound .
I heard
the Russian jabbering while she flicked her cigarette in the dust bowl.

hissing out in the corner
with the Italian and his wifebeater
cackling in the star flake


I only drink water when I need to.

still I'm here and
i'm only doing a little to get by.

like an extended stay at the funny farm --

no pigs
only goats

and your fowl

Noone cares about a man's suffering. His death is just another excuse for you to parade your victimhood, to show how you've been hurt.
Whatever. I can sit and stare at a wall for hours and think about a few memories that dont cause me bitterness, like watering a plant or washing my hands or drinking juice.
I just dont know why im so caught up with this one person, maybe because they're living the life i want without having done anything particularly complicated. And was I that defective?
Was this self hate instilled at birth? Who taught me to hate myself, was it the world or just me.
I don't know so I don't ask I just wish there were more happy moments. You can't force happiness like ****,you can't squeeze it into submission. I can only try, and do the handful of things I feel are right and live without regret and resentment, but don't tell me I didn't suffer, and
Don't say you cared because I ******* saw you laughing when I was at my lowest and I just wish you could feel it for a day because you would have an 'attitude' too you ******* *****. Go spread yourself some more and call it "making love".

I need to sleep but this light is blinding me and art keeps talking. I will be better tomorrow. I'll try to be better so I can be god and I will be god because none of you exist

Nobody belongs to me
You don't belong to me
I wish you did, I wish this was permanent but love is temporary like life itself
It's conditional
I get sick and withdraw as a result and I feel you pull back
I see your performative displays, pictures for everyone but me
Attention elsewhere the second I don't supply it
And I'm content;
I already knew this, but it still hurts.
It hurts knowing that all we built were words
You'll never be mine,
It was just my turn

Fake ******* *****
"I'M SO WEIRDDDD, I'M INTO ALL SORTS OF CREEPY **** 🤪"
the second I mention that I collect animal specimens she blocks me
It just hurts because I liked her face
I wanted to wear it

all my relationships fall apart because i cant just be one grounded person
  
I am a thousand people, and there
     Aren't very many good ones in the bunch

The guy typing is ok,
His name is jo

I feel like no one ever hears me

    I speak
and their eyes glaze over;
maybe I'm polite
but nobody cares about my side of things.

They walk around me
and pretend I'm not there.

will tussle with their **** as I'm sitting there as my shadow pours over them.
I'm not there.

I can sing to a crowded room
and no one's eyes
watch me;
I am truly invisible.   I'm not even sure
I exist, but here we
are

on the public transit at 3:30  stepping side by side  in gumball
dreary.

poured  the two birds into the cup
and ate half the leg over a fire thinking about the days of old
when a man could sit stiff legged
with her camel lady.


still not far from the zenith
and the oncoming  traffic and blaring noise  and meterorite has yet to claim a deciple.

the koreas are united
and i said a prayer in gesture,

I looked at a news

page then disappeared into grass --

big heads
for the  people who   spend too much time sniffing

sn

Some tweaker came up to me proclaiming himself Jesus Christ and that he alone is responsible for "**** filters and electric wheels"
I nodded and then said
Yeah but I'm God

He didn't like that

It's like putting your hand to a flame when you're sitting in a barren room.
My brain is rotting and all my relationships turn to **** but I'm ready for the pain.
Crying my eyes out and getting drunk and slashing myself made for some dark miserable moments but they were so impactful and poetic in their own way.
Now I rot and there's no sorrow to distract me.
A cold dusty fog envelops my heart and I slip into apathy.
Void of pain and emotion all together, it is truly death. Not being. I want to live. I want someone to care. I want someone to love me. I want someone to hate me. I want someone here

***** it all out, chunks of it, putrid tonsillitis muck which glimmers in the summer air

I want free of this madness. Songs are driving me crazy in the sense that they repeat and say so little but mean so much because I want to be a star
Or maybe I want love, maybe I want attention maybe I want what everyone else wants which is something to ease the pain of it all
I want bliss
And I want to forget that I am nothing

Gerb in a gush goop lop lop
Sklop in a shock a mun julk

***** dewie
Lovx an huny ackvol

O say now
Pewb pewb
**** it good and hard
Uylm see
Stand in filligree lop
loshK
Two note steeve , none for me

Im going to go upstairs and beat the **** out of the **** blasting his trash and cut out his eyeballs and his heart.
******* loser holding me hostage.
I'll pry you open with a sickle and feed your guts to my iguana you ******* vermin and on a full moon too?
Tomorrow im blasting Hungarian rhapsody.
And I could shoot you but it's too merciful and bullets too costly. Good night my love

Stop laughing at me you ***** before i sever your throat and place
You on a mantle
.SMILEING

with the sun

and saturn with his children
All but

Digested
.

No heirs for a
KING

No heirs for the priest.
67777777777777


Io


It sets down in the blue
hills

I need to prioritize my health again and that means
mental health  too
.

That means absences from all the calls,
and time wasters; people looking to be strung along because they can't find their own path.

you need to detox,
and it takes a lot of self-reflection and
BOREDOM.

boredom heals in the same way starvation
cannibalizes
a tumor through autophagy. give yourself some

time

free

no

Nothing to say


Terrible

Pain.

Words. Block. Words. I write. Now I go.    Back to the drawer. Sit down stand up.   Hush hush,  roses for a corpse. You peel me back,  and wash me away.   No one remembers.  Another line to cross . Erase. Fade.  Stay.  strain

Lots of people are lonely, but you have the false assumption that being around another person will fix your loneliness. Do you not remember the nights intertwined with someone wishing you could be anywhere else? You just desire what you don't currently have, and it's normal human nature, but your issue seems to be of a greater spiritual emptiness that no one person alone can fill, nor will ever fill. Perpetual longing is the default state of man and you suffer because of this desire,

It was easy today, looking in the mirror, combing my hair. I didn't shudder from the ugliness I merely turned my head to the mermaid on the wall playing a harp.

When I put my shoes on I went for a ride on my bike and this gothic girl was lighting a candle by the Christian altar ; I saw her stained sword by the rock wall and then she left before I could confront her.
In simpler times I probably would have put something in her , but I don't do that with the surveillance next door.
So I just sat there for a while then tossed a half drank Heineken at Jesus' face; he shattered into dust and I almost felt bad but they used cheap alabaster **** which made me pity the Creator.

I walked along the dried lake and took an automated picture.
I got sun and my head felt better. Still I work tomorrow, still I hate

Hate that I know too much. Hate that I feel every transgression but that's the price of being alive

i wear my skin
like pearls from a
   string

I wear my skin like silent dusk

I wear my face like loose fog

I wear my pain like dripping skies

I wear my sorrow like fading night

And pray to human
tragedy

What else can i do

What else can i be

Sickened by the scent

awake with regret and
painful realization

the earth is crumbling
Hope is dead
the fun is over
I have a jug of wine
And a ticket
The earth is still ending
Can't you see

Can't you see the screaming trees?
It's too easy
I'm not saving anyone
they deserve to burn

feel betrayed, bamboozled
Women are too good at the game of emotional manipulation
Even a young girl runs circles around me.
I try to be cool and detached
but inevitably the photos of the other men come flooding in; the Hispanic dude with guaged ears, the buff guy with the lizard tattoo, and she knows I'll watch all of it

But she ****** me just so she could toy with me after; her greatest currency
No intention of meeting again, just wanted me in her orbit, and God it felt amazing and I indeed became a weary simp

I'm too old for this **** though, so I blocked her. Total indifference on her end of course, but now
I can be ***** and alone but at least with some semblance of dignity.
But what's dignity worth when you're lonely?
Only a sociopath can beat this game and I'm getting close; next time
I'll win but it'll hardly be fun

dirt in my eyes, black in my lung, tar in my soul, **** in my heart,
**** in my brain,
**** in my mouth,
**** in my hands.

You talk to me a little
''how are you baby?"
" I don't know
I feel like someone is cutting through my neck with a rusty
spatula.it ******* *****''

''well I'm sorry to hear that''
''you're always sorry,
when are you ever going to be sincere?"

she rubs her arm
"it's not my fault you're always miserable"

I look at the light,
I agree, and there's no real responding to it.
"well ******* then"

the door slams and she leaves.   I throw a brick at the wall and make a huge hole for the spiders to climb in.
I awake with bites all over me,
the lantern swings in the wind. wizard of oz is on. Why is it on? it's so old.

she comes back

"I forgot my shoes"

she picks them up and proceeds to look at me, while a tear rolls down her cheek.

"like I said, I'm sorry"

the door closes, and a rush of cool air blows in, and my hair stands still, and the arm produces prickly bumps.

I don't want to be here any longer.
I don't want to watch this movie.
I walk outside.

I walk 13 miles and get to a bus stop. I give him my $5 and get on. I sit down, and 13 hours later, I'm somewhere else.  I'm somewhere else, foreign,
new,
scary,
devastating,
but still the chill persists.   let me run. please. let me escape. let me go

Hyperbole though I manage and the left ear firmly bandaged, I
Squint towards the sun as he speaks now
"  abyss follows",
My hands tied tight what did the fainting man see, something behind the tide. I wish you paid more mind , I wish you showed up on time, what did it take to be so famished
   PIECES.

I see you now like doves disintegrating. I see the exit painted red as you decay among the chalk. I kiss the cherried hand and bloodied nose.
What was wrapped up bled along with the sheets and burned in the crucifix. What statyed strong ran amok. What buried lies amassed truth in this realm, so the carcass wouldn't spit. I fed it a numb plum.  Please don't despair. Hiatus only meant a long break,  and how long it truly is  especially today when the larvae cry for you

Feel free

Feel the tingly sensation in my abdomen
I feel the nauseaus spirit envelop my carapace

I see the old one walking along the deep divide

I feel free
And everything is stale
Depleted dopamine
Latching onto routine, burning it down with spontaneity
I like living, I really do, but only when it's without
restraint
Always remember that you're gonna die, and fairly soon too
Freedom isn't free

jim
  And a hand
Game now 2.
"Lightening the load, the offenders"
Grey wash.
Buzzard musk.
Mucousy and white, flesh flute, patted down in squares. Little green squares full of time
⬛  juxtaposed with a moth  head and flying into cold flame

Yeah you know tattoo ink has cancer right?

You know that pizza has cancer right?

You know that coffee has cancer right?

You know that bananas have aluminum?
You know that the Earth is dying and an asteroid collision is imminent?

You know that greenhouse gasses are exacerbating climate change?
You know that hormone blockers for an 8 year old is ethical?
You know that I'm a primate?
You know that
I like trap rap

You know that my name is Wei Brown
I live in the gentrified suburbs

I planted a flower and it sits on my stove
*******

You know that every question is an answer

when I get nervous meeting a girl
,
I just imagine
her having taken
the biggest stinkiest
rancid **** with her *** stretching out to the size of a fist
and the stink
permeating
for meters abroad;

and her picking her nose
with glee
and her pits stinking
and her feet sweaty
and her breath sour
and her legs and ***** hairy
from a 2 days growth

disgusting creatures.
  foul apes;
like me. elegance Is overrated, and now I'm turned on...

I want the worst for myself but not in a masochistic way relating to anything foul or ******.
I just want to be obliterated. I won't take **** from anyone and have honor and pride in most petty affairs but still at the end of the day wish I was run over by a truck and my brain was flattened.
****** analyze that.  Low self esteem,  but prideful and borderline arrogant otherwise.
I think I'm just depressed , so I sleep.
Sleep away

tired of stories and 'real life'
I want to read something that makes me forget I'm alive, something to make me feel kinship with an ant.
Something to strip me of my pride.
Something to make feel unborn and unloved
, Something to make feel like a grain of sand
Something to make me feel like the sleeping vagrant,
Or the guts of a rabbit on a sidewalk.
Something cold,
Something like a universe

this life isn't meant to be quiet
the damp roses cannot sustain monotony
To sit idle is too betray aeons and perpetuate suffering
knowing too much led me to thinking too much
The perspicacious dancer dances for oneself
Look out into the light and see what is there,
Stop dreaming for tomorrow
Tomorrow was yesterday
And it's too soon

through the fog i see you, still & alone
Your face is a radiant blue
I miss you
Even though I no longer know you
I remember the silk waves and the sunny
disposition
I remember the screams into nothing
My soul is still searching
for what we had
so perfect in its imperfection

Is it worth writing if you can't be yourself?
If you're afraid of the outcome, if you be yourself?
Is it worth it to be perfect if it means being fractured in your self perception?
Are you writing as a means to fill a character role, or is really you writing?
You might lose the teen girls with your raunchiness, and the old strigid traditionalists with your erratic lines, but dont lose yourself in the process.
It's okay to ****, it's okay to be messy and uncouth, but please don't lie to yourself

](ķ*&they walked back thru the street of snow and ice with whispers in fog. It took too much to stay but we couldn't leave so we lit a f ire. I didn't mind. I was somewhere else   ⅖

i once wrote that ''killing myself would be like making a sandwich''

it's actually the hardest thing I've tried to do.

I'll keep trying so i'm not a failure

I came and I was sat down in another plushy red chair and I'd be there for 9 hours doing more quizzes and learning the history of the company. It was like school but somehow worse; I'd at least be getting $9 an hour which at that time, around 2012 was pretty much the same even accounting for inflation.
I sat there and clicked and clicked and clicked and watched videos on their desktop. I guess old Macy was a traveling gypsy and the store started out as a sort of snake oil salesman setup, then eventually he got the idea to sell pants and now we have the current incarnation.
Music pumped in through the speakers, and it was a mix of "closing time' by semi sonic, and "Beautiful' by Christina Aguilera. Was it a message?
I finished the ****, then they propped me up and had me do paperwork, and I had no record. I crossed 'No' on the molestation portion and did my drug test the next day. I passed again, and came in and was escorted around the mannequins into the Women's Intimates section. Wow, this is like a bad movie I thought.
"here you just sort through the clothes and put them back on the rack" the supervisor said coldly.
How the **** do you put underwear and bras back on the rack?
"And if customers have a question provide direction or assistance" she said then left and I was all alone picking up underwear off the ground and bras like a strange lost person.
   Right away customers approached me with their questions.
"Where's the restroom?"
" I believe it's over there" and I'd point north. They went North.
" Help, I need rung up!"
I pointed north again.
"There's no one there! Can't you ring me up" they'd say irately
"No It's my first day"
And they'd skitter elsewhere and I'd continue folding the underwear and bras. It was really boring. So many ****-colored ******* and bras, and hideous blue-green dresses clumped up like angry ***** of yarn, kicked around, someone else's problem.
   It'd be time for my lunch break then I'd wander the mall and buy some Thai food or something. I'd sit on the bench overlooking the lobby and the fountain and comtemplate existence and existentialism and what led me to this place, in a mall, air-conditioned folding ******* for $ nine dollars an hour. The more I thought, the more questions would arise and I'd inevitably feel panicked when coming back in.
  I wandered the halls aimlessly in the store, doing nothing. I had practically no supervision. I just got lost and meandered and took 5 ***** a day wondering when I'd be be called out. I never was. I got bored of taking ***** and when my break came up I couldn't take another ****. I didn't smoke then, so I had absolutely nothing to do. When my time was up for the day I was thankful. I drove home listening to bad punk music,
probably Adolescents. Probably Kids of the black hole.

Head is racing,  and my body is static. The room is dead and dull. I hear bass thumping from a special.
Hot lamp trickling with tar.
No one to talk with; I forget what that's like.  People just talk?

I wish I was erased, and I wish no ill will to anyone.
A dumb bewildered ape staring at a monolith. No text,  but infinite wisdom.  It only said nothing and that was too much

Don't believe in god because I've seen enough suffering
I die on a daily basis
Anxiety is death of self,
Suffocating whilst breathing, my eyes whiten and my cheeks turn ashen, my tongue swells and my heart pulses along while the beat of existence draws to a stop
   In a cafe, or in a car,  in the bed of my loved one I ask to die.
I  feel it all crumbling away,  I see the petals before they've withered.
I  see the grave as the body rots  in silence. I see the baby condemned  from its first breath.
The earth spins closer to the sun. The twilight gives way to dusk. No man's hour and it's so so lonely

pain is being too numb to feel any thing

my brain was broken for a few days
so i've forgoed any & all substances,
not even *******
which is its own drug

I need clarity;
I was looking at a wall
and perceived it as a dullish mush and
  noticed a dab of spittle hanging from my lower lip

    I could speak to a parakeet
and ask it for advice,
it said
" shut up ***** boy and give me a *******''
not really,
it didn't say that, but it did mimic the sound of ******/

when I poured my toast
I buttered my juice
and I took a cab to your house and slept with you and wrote this poem
as we cuddled
because I needed some warmth. please don't leave me,
I need some
warm cuddles
    
:0

why do they all leave ?///

Finally told you how I feel and it was liberating.
Was tired of the reluctance and nicety
and fake virtue, may as well spill my guts.
I wanted you to know that I hate you, and how vile you are, and how much of a disgusting pig you are.
I wanted you to see that side of me. That's the side that sleeps well at night, knowing he has no one to please & no one to rely on;
peace of mind

greg comes down. he stills lives with his mother at 52,
and is perpetually clutching a coors banquet in his left hand, and his pinky is contorted in a grotesque fashion. his eyes are black without expression, and everything he says is sincere, but laughs at innapropriate times.
He helps us dig the ditch for the bones of the dog in the backyard,
it died when it was attacked by the Great Dane which was subsequently euthanized. He had the idea to put the carcass in a trash bag and now it stunk and the body was a frothing mess of decay.
We laid the bag in as he ****** on his coors banquet.
"GOD REST ITS SOUL"
he said.
we said a prayer; it seemed appropriate. and after the dog was buried, he got in his car, totally drunk and drove back to his mamas.
The stereo blasted Pink Floyd "Wish you were here" on vinyl, and it happened to be 2am. Someone puked on the floor and I promptly went to bed whilst someone ****** in the kitchen. I don't know how I got there, but I was spoonfed yogurt in the night while some random girl ****** me off. good dreams, and hot nights. my shoes sat in the corner staring at the sin. & I made sure to say goodnight     in the morning
as I drove off to Los alisos on the corner of Jeronimo and El toro