OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO oOOOO OOOO. OOOO OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO" .OOOOOO OOOOOo OOOO OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO OOOO oOOOOOOO OOOOOOO. OOOO oOOOO OOOO .OOOO OOOO OOOOOOOOo OOOO OOOO" OOOO oOOOO OOOO OOOO "OOOO. OOOO OOOOo .OOOO' OOOO .OOOO" OOOO OOOO OOOOoOOOO "OOOO. oOOOO OOOO oOOOOOOO..OOOO OOOO "OOOOOOO OOOOoOOOO" OOOO .OOOO"""OOOOOOOO OOOO OOOOOO "OOOOOOO' OOOO oOOOO ""OOOO OOOO "OOOO OOOOOO |---------------------------------------------------------------------------| | | | There Ain't No Justice | | | | #113 | | | |---------------------------------------------------------------------------| - Going Crazy in the Suburbs 10: - "Some People Will Never See Beauty" by Hairy twelve thousand different faces alike in their unfamiliarity alike in their emotionless gaze i want to walk out into the sea let the waves consume me devour me i just don't want to come back never come back /////////////////////////////////\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\//////////////////////////////////// very depressed. very lonely. lost my job two weeks ago. i suppose i should have written sooner and told you all about it, but i've been walllowing through too many things lately.. i've been sleeping fourteen hours a day, sleeping through the daylight hours, awake until sunrise.. vodka & idle computer things, books & movies.. pushing everyone - everyone - out of my life.. in my own special way, i guess i've pushed you away, too. i could have written, or stopped by, even. i was in pennsylvania the other day.. i just drove and drove.. 300 miles through strange little pennsylvanian towns. sleeping in the car.. jill's crept back into my life to some extent. i demonstrated to her the difference between "up" and "down", and now she's out again. nancy was just here, she got here last night after the nitzer ebb show at the limelight. i didn't look at her, haven't looked at her - just went to sleep. we woke up about 1pm, she wanted me to be happy happy, fun fun fun. i laid on the floor with a hat covering my face, and all i kept saying was, "i'm sorry." she finally left.. i keep forgetting to eat. i've lost weight, i think. i seem much leaner. this is a good thing, at least i can be content with my appearance as i deteriorate into nothingness. my life is a merry-go-round of disaster. i should write a resume, but i don't have enough energy. i'm feeling very apathetic. jim should be here before the week is over with my lsd. i told him i wanted to experiment, wanted to have bad bad trips and scare myself. told him i wanted to see what i'd write about.. told him i just wanted another escape from reality, but we'd ignore that bit for the time being. well. nothing much to say.. i hope things are better for you than they are for me. /////////////////////////////////\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\//////////////////////////////////// wrote a resume the other day (4 am). it's horrible, but i'm going to have to live with it. listening to the cranes. staring at this old taco bell garbage. smelling jill's sex all over me. i guess we both know what i've been up to. my relatives are up from florida (!?!) visiting. my brother, his wife, two kids. he's in his mid thirties, i guess. they got here two days ago. i haven't seen them yet, i've been avoiding them.. slinking around the house, only going out of my room in the middle of the night.. i don't know him, you know? just because we both came out of the same hole doesn't mean we have to be best friends. my contacts are getting blurry. i'm never going to meet anyone at a club who interests me. i guess i've realized this (finally), and that's why i've stopped going out. the whole thing disgusts me. blah, blah, blah. jesus, i need a haircut. unemployment is awful. i have to actually budget my money. i can't stand it. if i don't have $100-$150 to spend on absolute *trash* each week, i don't know what to do with myself. i just wish i could afford a haircut. foo. where's jim, anyway? where're my drugs? been listening to george thorogood lately. that "one bourbon, one scotch, one beer" song has some sort of a hypnotic effect over me. i always mix up effect & affect. hmm. walked past some bar last night at the beach, and realized that this time next year, i'll probably be propped up on one of those stools. mmm. have a nice day. /////////////////////////////////\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\//////////////////////////////////// imagine that, you coming to visit me.. i've got sunburn. how ungoth. i went plodding around old war derelicts at sandy hook. the sperm bank thing turned out to be a joke, sorry. i took it as a joke to begin with, but i figured - - hey, the work's not hard, i do it already, and i may as well get paid for it.. hope you find a use for the ENCLOSED ENVELOPE. my relatives are still here, i'm still dodging them. i haven't looked at the alien thing yet, but i will. i remember hearing about them somewhere, but i never found out more. i always confuse them with some skateboard company called "alien workshop". so, what's chet's new job? and if he's got a job, why's he want to masturbate for money..? aren't you woman enough for him? didn't he like the pierced tongue..? tee-hee-hee. i'm broke as all hell. i've been eating cheese & crackers. ack, ack, ack. i don't go out to clubs near as much as you think. not nearly.. i need to steal a better printer. this thing is horrible. i finally wrote my resume, but i can't print the thing out on this bastard printer. it looks awful. i have to drive up to brookdale community college (where i stole this computer from) and pretend to be a student for awhile so i can use a decent printer. i should've been able to go use the printer at work, but.. of course.. i don't work there anymore. feels like my eyes are going to fall out. too damned hot. i've had the air-conditioning on for the past three days, 24 hours a day.. i''ve lost lots of weight. i love it. i think i'm going to be poor more often. you should try it sometime, it's lots of fun. you shouldn't be finding men you're interested it, be they 27 year old brooklynites or not, considering you have a significant other. shame, shame.. my kingdom for a haircut. went and saw "party girl" the other night with jill. what an experience. the story about sysiphus (syphilis?) was the best part. sunburn is a bad thing. jill & i seem to be getting more friendly. this is fine, we've been trading "guess who i fucked" stories. i just don't want whatever it was that happened last time to happen again. then again, i enjoy sex with her.. she did this entertaining thing with ice cubes earlier.. mmmm. maybe i should finally mail this letter.. it'll please you to know that making this black envelope was my last real duty as a $7.35/hr record store worker. you see how much i slave over you? /////////////////////////////////\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\//////////////////////////////////// hello drunk and miserable back to normal back to reality happy birthday young man young man hours twist away into liquid into indistinguishable frowns of disapproval years speckle the walls time spent idle time wasted closeted hopes and dreams smashed thrown aside what does it matter in the end when all is said and little is done mocking faces in the darkness haunting my dreams scarring my soul no peace no rest no salvation just madness and alcohol and degradation this is reality this is life this is the all there is anywhere anything anyone please /////////////////////////////////\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\//////////////////////////////////// 6 am, driving down the highway, and i came across this woman. tight white shorts, long hair, nice figure. i drove around the block so that i could pass by her. she just stood there, looking at me. i went around the block again, waved as i passed by. she smiled down into the car, opened the door, got in. we drove off. i found a secluded spot behind the local elk's club. gave her $20, unzipped my pants. i made her stop halfway through, and told her i wanted to kiss her. "i don't usually do that kind of thing," she said, and we kissed. she went back to work. i was very kind, gentle. stroking her hair and face very softly - almost as a lover would. she finished and we drove off. i drove her to 8th street, cheap welfare apartments. she had to find some girl who owed her money. she had told me that she'd pay me $5 to drive her around. we didn't find her, but we picked up pam, a big black girl. very loud. very obnoxious. we went over to the riviera. "crack street," she called it. i let them out, parked, waited. they knocked on a few doors, then disappeared around the corner. after a few minutes, she came running back to the car, crying. "that nigger bitch" she said, "she stole my money." two or three people came out of the motel. she got back into the car, still crying. two people from the motel somehow got in the backseat. i drove them all 20 minutes out of town, down to where she lived. got there, pulled up to the curb, stopped. they all got out. "wait here for them" she said, and they all went inside. i waited maybe one, two minutes. i got out of there, back on the highway. i was more than generous, i thought, driving these strangers around for more than forty-five minutes. i left them there, in that blue and white mobile home. in awhile, they'd just be memories. for all of my kindness and generosity, i was just another piece of flesh between her lips. some people will never see beauty. /////////////////////////////////\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\//////////////////////////////////// i talked to jim last night we traded relationship woes told him about you & chet & frank ad nauseum he wants to meet you jim's never met a really kinky woman poor jim he hasn't moved yet i guess it's ok to ignore him i wonder what you think when you unfold the crumples and read it all out stumbling over misspelled words and horrible typos wonder what you see in between all those lines my head hurts i'm never going to find anyone interesting here i told jim last night that 98% of the peope in the world were boring or was it 99%? i can't quite remember and then i told him that the ones who were interesting either had a penis (which is fine, i told him) or are so fucked up in relationships that it isn't worth the time investigating i don't know what i'm doing jim said he wanted to find that girl that made him want to go on living said he found them before, a few of them, but it went away after awhile i told him jill was like that she made me want to live until that one day when it all just went away i don't know what happened i told him i was tired of looking for people like that i didn't explain but i think we both knew that wanting to live comes from somewhere inside he's got a way of being funny told him i wanted support a companion, maybe i reflected i guess i want a wife it sure sounds that way stupid stupid moron look at yourself how old are you? stop being so old stop being so dead stop being so damned stupid why don't you do like you're told? go out get drunk get fucked get high get wasted get happy ha ha ha ha ha get happy and just cruise along into oblivion you stupid little child /////////////////////////////////\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\//////////////////////////////////// intoxication drunken fingers in the dark in the light in the nothing ash and disintegration grated memories grated fear save me save me from this this abyss this drunken slumber pain and love rain down upon me thoughts falling out of my head fingers not working hahahahahahahah can't stand it can't stand it hallucination see the escape see the humanity of drowned veins haze smoke whirl let me out of this this reality this space this world i'm above this i'm an entire world above this a form you'll never know save $1 on swined conversation on drink on stupor people will never care if i live or die /////////////////////////////////\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\//////////////////////////////////// try to unscramble it all thoughts and feelings crammed into overused phrases jumbled lettering misspent years alienated child in the ink in the spotted isolation held transfixed by laughing stares eyes and mouths in motion somehow always saying, "it's your fault." comatose time slips past keep waiting for the soul to mend itself all covered over scars puss-filled blisters missing pieces none of this makes sense none of this makes sense none of this makes sense pouring alcohol into something some darkness some hole whittled out by fear saliva and stale vomit still caked in the corners of your mouth /////////////////////////////////\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\//////////////////////////////////// i never knew your last name until the other day when you left that message. odd.. on a whim this past morning i shuffled off to the library and browsed through "the 1995 poet's market book." i looked at this, mainly, because they didn't have "the 1995 people-who-just-write-bad-letters market book." i found a few places that i'm probably going to start sending stuff to. probably just photocopies of all this shit in my drawer, scraps of things.. well, it's not exactly a job, but it's something to do for five minutes every once in awhile. mmm. i pushed jill out of my life two weeks ago, and tonight i went and visited nancy. she called earlier in the day and kept nagging me to visit her. i didn't really want to see her, but she kept at it, so.. i got up there and laid on the floor and listened to her whining about her social life. when she was done, i told her something along the lines of, "your social life disgusts me." this wasn't meant in a bad way or anything, it's just the honest truth. her social life really does disgust me. at any rate, she got all bitchy over it. "fine," i said, "i'll leave." she asked me why i had come to see her in the first place, so, being a good boy scout, i told her the truth. "because you kept nagging me," i said. this, apparently, didn't set too well either. i just laid there on the floor. she smoked a cigarette. after awhile, she went into another room. she came back in, threw a book at me. damned thing hit me in the stomach, hurt quite a bit. i said something like, "jesus christ, whore!" and threw the thing back at her. i was overcome with this intense desire to beat the shit out of her. instead, i got up and left. ironically enough, it was charles bukowski's "women" that she had thrown at me. she borrowed it from me, and i guess she was trying to give it back.. i drove into the city and set out to find a bottle of stolichnaya vodka, but it was already pretty late and all the liquor stores were closed. i wandered around st.mark's place for awhile, then drove home. here i am now, home. there was a message on my machine from her, it said something like this: "if everything disgusts you so much, why don't you just shoot yourself?" several points leapt to mind: ..her cheesy social life in no way constitutes "everything". ..she's the one with the suicidal problems, not me. (tried two or three times.) ..bullets aren't stylish. i'd try and do it stylishly if it were my last act. ..she's very fucking teenage, and i don't know why i let myself sink that low. well, anyway.. i think i've succeeded in getting her out of my life, too. i certainly hope so.. alone again, alone again, yippity-yippity. on the lighter side: i haven't had sex in over a month. masturbation is a poor, poor replacement. i'm going to see about going out this weekend and finding something to fuck. in reality, though, i don't even want that. i don't care about all the hot, sweaty mechanics of it. what i really want is the part that comes after - laying around in bed, naked, content, happy. holding each other. gentle kisses. light touches. stroking hair. falling asleep together.. i sound like a woman, jesus. using sex to get love, and all that. jim still hasn't gotten me my damned lsd, but he did find me some mushrooms. here's to a mind altering experience.. hope you're ok.. wonder why you put up with me.. etc.. /////////////////////////////////\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\//////////////////////////////////// - it's sunday, i think. jim never got my mushrooms. jim's kind of unreliable like that.. i haven't been back to the city to fetch alcohol, either, but my mother shocked & amazed me by driving off to yonder liquor store and getting me some. how odd.. anyway, my stepbrother is here with his tart girlfriend. they're sitting out on the couch in the living room. he's a redneck bastard. i've avoided him for the past.. oh.. five years or so? the last time i really associated with him, i tried to strangle him to death. he's just that kind of person. depeche my mode, baby. started talking to some girl, jessica. she got kicked out of cornell, failed out. she was pursuing too many.. shall we say, extracurricular activities? the only things we've talked about are sex, which is fine with me. cheap, entertaining, burns calories.. my life reminds me of a sister's of mercy lyric. (i'm such a little gothboy, aren't i?) that line, "and the women come and go." well, mostly they just go, but.. cough, cough, cough. only another.. what.. twenty weeks of "vacation" to go.. i need to steal a better printer. jesus christ. i hate this thing. i made the mistake of going to the mall today, trying to escape my stepbrother. what a bad idea. people everywhere.. everywhere.. thousands of them.. i just couldn't deal with it. all that noise, kids screaming.. the faces, the happy happy smiling faces.. "i love you, frank!" "oh, mary! i love you!".. overstuffed asses crammed into pastel colored tents.. it was just too much. i had to piss, i had to get to a bathroom and piss and get out of there, but i couldn't. i just couldn't take it. i found the exit, got outside, got back to the car. i sat there in the front seat and pissed in a spring water container, and sat it on the ground. it was really that bad. i fucked up and couldn't go to the batcave - again. this is the second week in a row i've wanted to go, but couldn't. this time, i had been awake for sixteen hours before, and was dead tired. i slept six hours, got up to get dressed and go out. it was pouring rain, a monsoon. it had been raining for eight hours or so, i think. i started to wonder if i had left my car windows down.. sure enough, puddles in the front seat. i had some toast and went back to sleep for another eight hours. cough, cough, cough. i cough like a smoker now, for no apparent reason. i'm not sick.. i just don't understand. this letter is so completely empty, i'm sorry. i wonder when you'll throw out all the things i've written you. it's got to happen, sooner or later. one day, one of us will run out of things to say, and the other won't pursue the matter.. and that'll be it. or, maybe you'll throw a god damned bukowski book at my head, i'll call you a whore, and we'll hate each other. i guess you never know.. i can never figure out if i'm alone by choice or not. i suppose i am, being i'm the one who drives everyone away.. but it never seems like that. it always feels like i've been left, i've been forgotten about. compassion doesn't exist, you know. it just doesn't exist.. etc. ú ùþ ú ú þù ú ÛÛÛÛÛÜÜÜÜþÜÜÜÜ ú ù ú ú ù ú ÜÜÜÜþÜÜÜÜÛÛÛÛÛ ±±±±ÛÛÛßÛ²ÝÛÝÛÛÝþ Üú úÜ þÝÛÛÝÛݲÛßÛÛÛ±±±± ±±±±²²²²²ÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÜþúÝ ù ù ÝúþÜÛÛÛÛÛÛÛ²²²²²±±±± ±±²²²²ÛÛßßÛßÝÛÛÛÛÛÝÜúþ þúÜÝÛÛÛÛÛÝßÛßßÛÛ²²²²±± ²²²²²Ûß þúßÞþßþþÜùþ þùÜþþßþÞßúþ ßÛ²²²²² ²²²²Ûß ú ù ù ú ßÛ²²²² ²²²ÛÝ ÝÛ²²² ²²²ÛÜ ÜÛ²²² ±²²²ÛÝ ÝÛ²²²± ±±²²²ÛÜÜÜ ÜÜÜÛ²²²±± ±±±²²²²²²ÛÜ Phoenix Modernz Systems: 908/830-TANJ ÜÛ²²²²²²±±± ÛÛ±±±±±±²²²Û VapourWare BBS: 61/3-429-8510 Û²²²±±±±±±ÛÛ ÛÛ±±±±±±²²²Û underworld_1995.com 514/683-1894 Û²²²±±±±±±ÛÛ ±±±²²²²²²ÛÜ RipCo ][: 312/528-5020 ÜÛ²²²²²²±±± ±±²²²ÛÜÜÜ etext.archive.umich.org ÜÜÜÛ²²²±± ±²²²ÛÝ ÝÛ²²²± ²²²ÛÜ ÜÛ²²² ²²²ÛÝ ÕÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍ͸ ÝÛ²²² ²²²²Ûß ú ù ³ TANJ Mailing Address ³ ù ú ßÛ²²²² ²²²²²Ûß þúßÞþßþþÜùþ ³ PO Box 174 ³ þùÜþþßþÞßúþ ßÛ²²²²² ±±²²²²ÛÛßßÛßÝÛÛÛÛÛÝÜúþ ³ Seaside Hts, NJ ³ þúÜÝÛÛÛÛÛÝßÛßßÛÛ²²²²±± ±±±±²²²²²ÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÜþúÝ ù ³ 08751 ³ ù ÝúþÜÛÛÛÛÛÛÛ²²²²²±±±± ±±±±ÛÛÛßÛ²ÝÛÝÛÛÝþ Üú ÔÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍ; úÜ þÝÛÛÝÛݲÛßÛÛÛ±±±± ÛÛÛÛÛÜÜÜÜþÜÜÜÜ ú ù ú tanj@pms.metronj.org ú ù ú ÜÜÜÜþÜÜÜÜÛÛÛÛÛ TANJ Distribution List: Send mail to talmeta@cybercomm.net to be added to the TANJ-DL!