Ask and Ye Shall Receive.

Q: "LOL!

This is so bizarre, and slightly disturbing. Where do you come up with these ideas? Jasson says you must be smoking something."

A: Well, I don't know, I just sit for a second and start with a word that's usually a preposition. By the time the word is typed onto the page, that sentence is already written in air, I just have to grab it and throw it onto the page. And then it's like I'm reading a story, just predicting the next line each time, and I'm usually right. Once in a while I have to backspace, but I really don't like to do that. In that fashion, a bizarre and slightly disturbing idea is come up with.

Once in a while I get an idea when I'm away from the computer. At that point, I run slash bike to a computer quickly so that my airy ideas can become pixelated and spread themselves onto your air.

Smoking is not involved :)

Lactic Acid

Since her arm was weaker than his, she let him hold the door open for more than mere minutes, extending his willing chivalry on into the night; and such a special night it was, for there was about to be a ceremony to crown the new president of the group of students (who refused to call themselves a club) that like to create and learn, adding to and expounding upon the cultures that already existed in their domain; and yes, his arm would weaken and ache, but he would not flinch in his duty, even if it was an arbitrary one, for that is the law of propriety.

Rocks are Ouch

From his breast the badger flew, raving with the madness of a thousand wizards, the screams of a thousand kittens, and the valor of a thousand mighty ducks. Upon the badger's landing, the man saw that this is what he had produced in his desperate efforts for love and knew that it could not be continued, for what would he produce next? A lamprey of the spirit? A dragon that consumes souls? Even a devil that digests the very planets in his path? No. This would stop now, with the badger. And the man picked himself up off the rocks and ran toward it, loving it harder and harder with each step. Still dazed, the badger frantically ran in circles, learning to exist when it never had before. It was just beginning to leap from a rock when the man impaled himself upon its sharp skull. The badger's gullible body would have been crushed were it not for the love that absorbed it. Alas, the rock beneath it was not chaste, and had been hardened by years of unloving life. It pierced the man's heart, where the badger now once again lived and died. That day was the first of many such events, and also the greatest of them. For no man would ever again produce such a creature; and no creature would ever again produce such a man.

i am so young

i just went to shave

and i looked at my face

my hair is mussed from sleeping and not showering

and i saw myself in my face

just as i have always been

and i missed me

i wished i was who i am

but that i can never be.

only time will tell

i want to be famous

and have a famous girlfriend

and a famous marriage

and famous bebbies.

i don't know how to be famous
but i do want to be an actor
and a writer
and a director
and a producer
and a mathematician
and a physicist.

i would make movies about things i discovered in space
and about my life as a mathematician, alone only with my pencils and equations
and about the new theories and things that prove they are true
and maybe i would create a camera that could see the theories that are so small.

the world has much things

but it is so small in the universe
but it still is big for us and it has many careers
and toys
and methods
and widgets
and girls
and boys
and lives.

i want to scream
and laugh
and cry
and run
and sit still
and finish my coffee
but i'm pretty sure it causes these thoughts
which is on second thought why i should finish it.

there is too much to learn
and i dont know what to do when
so i follow the current path
and hope it will all get done one day.

Alliteration of the 23rd Variety

Whiskey's wrath wraps around writhing wretches, warring with wild wheat and whittling women with wicked wisdom.

Meat is Murder. Tasty, Tasty Murder.

A white boy wearing blue jeans with a pink shirt, on a yellow bike. Or a pink boy with yellow skin and green and brown eyes on a black road.

Both describe me today. They aren't contradictory. They aren't even contrary. It depends who you ask.