Why My Friends Hurt and Make Me Smile

I wanted to experiment with my writing. So, I did.


it tends to fall sometimes nowhere sometimes everywhere why my friends tend to make me smile


they jumpstart they ache me they make me


my friends tend to make me … wonder

(pseudo-intellectual or so Aaron says you are not that you didn’t just read one Wikipedia article about Sartre’s Nausea you do the work actually do the work man)

so where was Aaron when I wanted to talk about pain? suppose why I smile

I never smile

tabor and I and Preston … cracking eggs in the midst of nothing in the midst of everything

big fat stupid mosquitoes

do I have the tenderness of Preston why do I (like him)

I don’t he’s just

just a

just a friend

why Tabor makes me feel alone because his humor alienates me from existence he’s too funny for me

nels told me yesterday to just be a pragmatist only what works what works for the basic common denominator is what’s good that’s it

so then my writing is meaningless? even though he said write a book instead of have kids to last?   even though I want kids ….

we are according to him the complexity the complex cutting edge moment of all that has happened for the past billions of years of



why I don’t talk about my friends: I’m paranoid

how much tabor makes me sad wtf

how much I like Preston but can’t

how much Aaron confuses me with his intellectual rigor

how much nels makes me wish I was more science-minded even though … it hurts


but I love my friends they make me




we are the product of evolution


“yo Schmidt: pocket this!”


“you can … literally …


I don’t remember the scraps of my friend’s speech and so I hate myself

I don’t remember

I don’t remember

just remember The Light Kid The Snake Angel the ahead full of symbology


but my friends make me smile (ache)


where are you? why do you feel gone? why aren’t you here in my head with me? that’s what I need not out in the world don’t feel sad because of me


“so fuck third wave feminism.” tabor

“I don’t understand Phoenix.” hector (I don’t understand Hector either …)


I don’t understand


nels (pragmatism is better than truth? huh?)


tabor asked me to write about him because he’s my friend …


we crack the eggs. it’s simple work but beautiful how they work (my friends) with the camera. it’s strange how they work, too, because they seem so adept at it and it’s something I could never do, perhaps simply only writing a story about it, with words, concepts, all that I’m sick of, if the truth be told. so, words. but the eggs broke and bled. we broke the eggs. we hurt the eggs, in fact. but I’m not a Jain monk so everything goes. including nihilism. philosophic suicide [camus]. and I had fun watching them because I saw a raccoon warm-blooded animal in real time with pretty eyes and a pretty tail and arched back and I got bit by stupid fucking mosquitoes because they hate me. because I thought it was fun to watch them (friends …) record film snap photos and to not have to explain everything or explain nothing, they just did it, and I didn’t know how to respond because I’m too much of a pseudo-intellectual that read one article on egg-breaking-filming and didn’t know what it meant. so despite the mosquitoes I felt okay, even though I was manic before and was worried I scared my friends to death and all that fun stuff, swearing isn’t nothing as tabor said once in his sadness in his intense sadness: but to me it’s more meaning than anything because at least it exists not everything has to connect …




I don’t understand Hector


I don’t understand myself what am I doing here why am I here when I can’t even figure out


nonetheless: I stream of consciousness and El. why is she always such a beautiful girl that’s still so very tortured I’m sorry I’m not a better support system I’m sorry that … but thank you for the gin and tonic I think with orange juice? forgive me my dear I don’t know much about alcohol …


and then you wanted pot? I can’t smoke sorry I take psychotropic drugs that fuck me up and make me wish I was manic and make me wish (but I’m high now manically so so we’re good)


everything is nihilism blue lives don’t matter fuck it all I want to die right now my head is spinning too fast I’m trying to figure it out (a head full ahead full of symbols) at least the Bugles are good nacho cheese flavored why was that pretty lady nice to me even shook my hand just because I felt raw for a moment I always feel raw but never act raw enough because I scare people away how are you today you want an honest answer yes I’m doing well says the cashier at the convenience store


my friends: not: the light kid the snake angel tyson the machine the dark kid kes gavroche maxwell blitz rad


I just want to FUCK


(fucking goddamned fucking) (flies?)


my friends: aaron beau, tabor, preston, nels, el, hector, other preston (paradise is in the mind which means it doesn’t exist … you missed my argument, buddy) …


I hate ideals


fucking Nietzsche.


my friends are not kes the light kid the snake angel I fucking love the snake angel but he’s

the light kid down to ten watts


I am not a pragmatist I am an                                                 [artist]


I want to fuck really fucking bad


which is why I hate circle jerk jokes


preston is my friend because he’s gentle to me and patient with me and I don’t understand [inconsistency] I’m not much of a psychologist not much of a psyche student I just wish


(the fucking pain man it’s real you know that don’t you?)


eggs crack




tell you a story my (schizo) soliloquy


the dark kid went to Canada and I went


I hate my life


I hate my life my sister is a bitch and thinks she’s a better lesbian slut than my humble slightly manic psychotic style of gay … well fuck you then since you’re so much fucking better


I hate my life right now


I hate my life right now

I hate my life right now …


I     hate      my      life





but, love because I’m a fucking fag at heart

with a be-straight complex

nels wouldn’t have guessed I was gay which makes me wonder if this is some serious secret I have especially from myself …


and yes I like preston but it was North Sea Texas that made me realize unreciprocated love is complex and you have to allow yourself to feel thank God for that movie of the gay boys that hurt each other hurt each other it was nice and beautiful and


(fucking) (horse)


(bareback?) (barebones …)


my mother doesn’t understand it’s biological I just don’t make the choice to condom


and aaron gave tabor … condoms?


I played Link for fun and it was … fun? I was the rain boy (who is not my friend) (because he doesn’t exist)


(the fucking pain man) (it hurts)


(sometimes I don’t feel) loved


but they helped make my fantasy a reality by sticking an egg in my mouth … photo after photo of an open mouth with an egg in it (uncracked of course though I was scared as hell that I was going to bite down too hard and crack it in my mouth) it was like sucking cock warm semen it kind of felt subversive … basically I just thought: they were taking cool photos and I couldn’t breathe which is sort of what it’s like to have dick in your mouth you literally can’t breathe so you swallow weird kind of CHOKE … I thank Burroughs (not William S. but Augusten) for his preteen sex moment of showing what it’s like to have a dick pounding your mouth. but the egg-in-the-mouth was more beautiful because it let me realize just realize: how much I could style my life if I just let myself and didn’t obsess about the pain like when I threw the egg on the wall and that was fun. it was really fun. now I’m listening to papercut by linkin park. I listened to papercut with tabor and sang to it when we were trying to buy food. he bought me rancheritos. what a friend, you know? but I can’t actually show him how much I (fucking a man) care about him. I can’t show how much I care about preston it’s too manic. so I panic. I pretend I’m sucking egg (instead of cock) and somehow [bareback] pain comes out of the blue and I realize that they are way too stylistic for me. “murray murray park. I don’t want to get charged …” tabor again: singing. I don’t want to suck his dick I care about him too much. and preston makes my heart ache so. he just … does. so, I don’t want sex from him because it’d be my betrayal to him.


the egg bleeds from its very pores.

it wishes it wasn’t a smores.


(which is really the worst rhyme in the world but hey at least it’s) (stream of consciousness?) (no: schizophrenic soliloquy):I feel like Hawk will never understand me and it makes me feel sad neither will nels: my mental illness is pain chronic pain and it’s real I’m not faking it it’s not just chemical it’s just …


cracking eggs.


francis crick said we are nothing but a pack of neurons why preston is reading alice in wonderland to show just how much of a pack of cards we really are.


the light kid isn’t my friend


my subjective experience is hell just so you know …


agony? subjective agony? or just a pragmatist?


but tabor just wants me to laugh. and preston just wants me to be myself, in all of its mental illness manifestations. and nels just wants me to be strong and have will like Nietzsche tells me to do (so nels’ philosophy is stronger than Nietzsche’s by definition). and hector just wants me to write poetry. and aaron just enjoys my intellectual rigor: (the sign of really good friends: they respect me solidarity breaking a stick with tabor to represent: solidarity).


and yet I ache


because the light kid isn’t real he’s just a part of me a whole internal monologue I invent for myself I want them to be real even though my friends my real friends (tabor preston …) are right in front of me and I can’t have them because they can’t be in my head I want them in my head! …


[bareback]       [suck cock]      [anal hazing]    [pain]   [it hurts, man, please stop]

[I never stop]


(you deserve pain, phoenix)


my dad was mean to me a lot when I was a kid


are people mean to me? I’m too detached with philosophy logic to know the difference

subjective experience subjective values are immoral according to nels mine are certainly and I just


I just


[my back hurts]

[I feel …] (castrated)

and so the story goes

because really: so it goes: I’m still not reading preston’s book by Kurt Vonnegut shows what an asshole I am no wonder I don’t get any[thing]


what I write is truth what I write is power

what I write is truth and power

we are according to nels so very complex on the cutting edge of evolution the evolution of billions of years


[so then: what am I? and where do I fit in]




I can’t say because\pain/because




I feel like I fall apart in my head I feel like the light kid is too arrogant to be my friend which is why I turn to [preston]


schizophrenic soliloquy


my friends hurt because I know they care and yet they feel pain too


especially tabor and preston and


the other preston and el and


[depressed man preston] [he made a film of me talking about mania that was nice of him]



why does preston care about me I can’t figure it out


we’re watching nothing just talking in the living room before preston has to go home to his screaming mother. where his family owns him. I’m feeling sad because I have feelings for and I can’t do anything about it. so I just … listen and listen and then leave and go on a walk and think of north sea texas and listen to what I’ve done by linkin park and listen to anna molly or some shit by incubus and then just feel the tears flowing (factually I didn’t actually cry then but … I really wanted to I was just too sad) why am I hurt I don’t know but I got a pepperjack quesadilla on the way back and it felt good to eat it when I got home after tabor was about to pass out driving: that’s the mark of a true friend he fucking could have told me to walk home I would have expected that from anyone else:


I’m too hard on my friends (aaron tabor preston …)


and because I’m too hard, I turn to imaginary friends and personalities within me and psychosis/delusion to keep them safe: L: because it feels better it feels better I want my friend Nick anthony to be part of this awesome scene what if Andrew was a kid like me my other good friend


what I can’t figure out: why people care about me


I’m nothing to be cared for


I’m nothing to be loved


I’m should never be loved


because I’m too fucking








we recorded eggs cracking I got to throw it against the wall like minor anarchy


my neurons bleed so I tried to be nice to Athena the beautiful dog to show that


I don’t understand the tree of life or whatever that movie was:


[my naked back is exposed to the wild][postscript deleuze]


and camus the rebel tried:


I’m sorry preston I’m not your friend

I’m sorry tabor I don’t make you laugh

I’m sorry aaron I’m a pseudo-intellectual

I’m sorry hawk and schizophrenic

I’m sorry hector I’m a foolish existentialist

I’m sorry nels I’m not a scientist pragmatist


I’m sorry light kid I’m not light

I’m sorry dark kid I’m angry shadow

I’m sorry tyson I don’t love you

I’m sorry kes I can’t fly

I’m sorry rain boy I’m not drenched in (your) rain

I’m sorry gavroche I’m not a street kid like you


I’m sorry phoenix


and so: I continue dreaming about love and sex and continue dreaming about … never fucking just cutting off my dick just: experiencing pain: a stab to the stomach a knife to the heart a gun to the temple:


it’s my friends that literally keep me going (aaron preston …) otherwise I’d die kill myself otherwise I’d just be agony and despair


crack an egg!


and if you notice what’s missing from this picture? not the light kid he’s everywhere.


  1. what’s missing are the kids. could be as conspicuous or inconspicuous as cash jameson or maybe just some kid in the park playing with their toys …


I used to be a kid and I didn’t have to make these decisions.


so …


[phoenix aches but he’s also] [loved]


phoenix is




[insert inappropriate joke here]


it tends to


fall sometimes nowhere sometimes everywhere why my friends tend to make me smile





























why my friends make me smile






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