'UN-NICE'

[by,]Dc
DeMarse

dreamt I got
pumped full
of lead with
an uzi

in the future
everyone will
hate
everyone
else

you have to
be popular to
be - - - - - - - underground,
if not, then
youre a loner
with a blog.

i swear i had
a dream that
said i was
gonna die
soon.

dropping
names?, no
bueno??,
<f<e
. .TrBltsretb
ke4H^x'

what if you
drew a
painting of
someone
painting a
sculpture in
an art
museum

why need
entrapment
when you've
got the
NSA ??

some famous
lady is
pregnant or
something

man you
know, great
days might
as well be a
christmas
that happens

i have come
to the
conclusion i
will ever and
only
inscrutably
express my
inscrutable

soul!

three
dimen
sional
eloque

nce
"

HAROLD BLOOM IS FULL OF SHIT AND THE WESTERN CANON IS NO JUDGE OF FUCKING MERIT

YOU ACADEMIC PUCKERS"

i think we
can agree
'it is what
it is' ha.

its not the

radar im
under its
the radarthats

under me,
as i live in
the
beyond,
speaking

preciesly
,so
nobody
hears

i feel like
a moody
90's ,rom,
com
montage,,

ocial

justice bot :
"patriarchal
society" , , ,
"masculine

conceptions of
success"

"h
oot
,,,,

ers
!!!!

rel
ea
"

.,

just feeling really apologetic right now my bad sorry

se
me
,

,,,,

all it takes, is
for a handful
of people to
believe in

you to
convince
everybody
else to too.
eh,
complex
ideas will will
themselves

subtle;
simply
because
there is that
matter,
always, that

you have not

wrapped
your head
around, yet,
yet, yet; and
which
suggests its

meaning
indiscriminat
-e of place or
design or
style or -

i wanna
videotape
giving a nerd
a swirly for
ALS

man o man.
what a today
day it is
beautiful.

I was really
banking on
smelling
farts curing
cancer

I'd have to
say my all
time favorite
food is none
pizza with left
beef.haH,,

:ah

ge

m
arbitrary
factoid based
on one study

that probly
will be
scientifically
disproven
really soon ::
DID YOU
KNOW

HEARING
OTHER
PEOPLE
LAUGH
ACTUALLY
MAKES YOU
REALLY,

REALLY
SAD?????
newfound
respect

ee

for,
cummings. :

collected
poems are
less famous,
but better,
less novelty,
more beauty,
more

necessity for
experimentat
ion, all in all
a stylistic
masterpiece i
look forward
to dipping

into once
more.
originality i
feel is
something
that lays a
path for the

next man to
follow.
explain it all
and limit
yourself, or
worse, be
proven

wrong. but
even in the
latter case,
the
originality
comes from
shedding a

possible
folly. in either
case, it is as
much to say
that
originality is
a means not

an end.
wittgenstein
believed a
certain mr
breur [dont
recognize the
name at all]

was really
where the
germ of
psychoanaly
sis was
planted; but
says also

that freud
possessed
the courage
to say more
than he could
follow thru
with proving.

Hope you are

well; I trust, at
least baseline
questionmark
lol. Not that
that is your
persistent
vegetative

state, or
whatever is
depression's
tagline these
days. OR IS
THAT FOR
COMA
PEOPLE

QUESTIONMA
RK Who
knows. Rather
what is the
difference,
layers upon
layers of skin
continue to

remain on the
nose [that is
not a metaphor
for a focused
target hit, btw].
Or maybe
you're not
even

depressed ,qu
estionmark.

H
ello ,questi
onmark [sound
of own voice
echoing thru
caves] But:
here is this. I
.. think
you would like.
See if you like,

if you like.
Chat soon
quesionmark
questionmark
----- --drop me
a line on
google
purchanse. So

yeah
I tried to
make this
entertaining
poop popsicle

and
racecars

explosions
diarrhea.
SINCERELY
D.C DeMarse
[or: me]
HERESeY THIS
IS HERESY
THIS IS- a

reg'lar,,Hhack
ob of the
universe,
enough so that
I question
reality at every
turn. but
does this come

from myself
and therefore
is it an illusion,
-or

is, ,
the universe

[?]

truly ,
disorganized?

which came
first, the
philosopher or
the problem?
brains are the
variable as
time is the
variable and
oddly these
things sync
up. time to
evolve: evolve

thoughts,
evolve to have
thoughts.
therefore the
problem is
time, and,
certainly, the
philosopher
came about
due not to an
overactive
imagination

but rather time

to view the
world, reality,
and things, in
a doubtful
light. one type
of nothing
exists, it is the
concretion to
the variable, it
is the speed of
light to the

mass, and all

adds up to the
-variable
energy that is
time itself.

assjack would
be a good
brand name for
buttplugs

maybe i have
overactive
karma as it
sure feels like i
pay for every
little sin

why, that's
the stupidest
thing I've ever
heard! ten
points from
griffindor

Out of the loop

= life story .
S o c i a l
exclusion very
hardened by
that. I think it's
probably one
of the few

flaws I regret
having . And if
t
h
i
s
depression
comes back
ho t d a m n is
depression
getting banal.

Doesn't god
have any more
ideas for me?
Nope bc it's a
godless world
and we are
each an atlas
u
n
t
o

ourselves. This
is just one day
of not having
Prozac. I'm so
fun

I
got
b r a s s
nuts and
golden
guts

I'm a bad
bitch
sporting a
glass of
red wine /
just

kidding /
it's
cranberry
juice /
I'm,Sober
ya.

all I'm doin is

sitting here
bein a lizard
and y'all don't
even care.

I might just get

arrested for
wrecking this
McDonald's
bathroom. I
mean damn.

Does
"getting
professional
" involve
using more
or less poop
jokes bc I
don't want
to sacrifice
my

pooptistic
Vision
I make a
mess in
motel
bathrooms.
It's like I

was born to
piss all
over newlypolished
porcelain
toilet
seats. My
house does
not count as
I live

mainly in
motels.

I am somewhat
a literary
whore, sell my
body to clarity
with each
smokable soulfuck-it

I edit on a level as such

that amounts to
approachin th next piece
with a stronger will to
succeed. if i mess up
something thats that. cant
fuck it up anymore tthan it
alread is there is an event
horuzon that upon
entrance can make u feeln
manic and tired. so in a
way i edit by writing more

There is a difference
between being overly
meek and just careful with
your word

I reserve the right to weep

over beauty, as especially
regards my life's wrecks. If
ever I would weep for such
a thing it would be only for
the beauty of suffering and
if u see me shed a tear at
all it would be for the exact
opposite of what one might
consider self-pity. I really
do not cry for the sake of
my 'plight' or whatever. It
is when I feel best that I
cry. And if I do pity myself
as all humans are capable

of, that is when u will see

me silent, resigned, a
stony face in a room full of
people, or even with the
look of one carelessly
'zoning out'
.

"What thou lovest well

remains - the rest is
middies." - Ezra Ounce
"The nug withereth, the
nug fadeth: because the
spirit of the LORD bloweth
upon it: surely the people
smoke grass." Psalm 4:20

To be real is to be
truncated, and if people
lasted eternally I am sure
they would give up asking
questions, resigned to this
disarming disembodiment,
this boredom of an
immortal life.

so ok:

well I hear you man, the

rigorous programs, door to
door, ferrying you all over
the place. the guilt, the
protracted withdrawals,
possible seizures, the
mechanic way that life
becomes post-drugs everything boring,
unoriginal, stupid, spentgrey, feelingless, and you
thwarted like as if you had
a wrench in the works, and
your works anyways so

notted up alway, the

refusal, the pissed, the
crying oneself down, the
feeble feeling -one of being
creatively sterile, flaccid, a
done junkie- hopelessly
without master or guide,
without a reason for this
your eager manic and
maybe soulful, narcotic
rhyme, your dances with
sin, refusal to believe you
are sinning; your
cancerous attitude of
wimpy rebellion ending
with amnesia then the
disgrace of retrospect,
learning awful things,

sickness, the mental

explosion, nay war, of
thoughts that cross paths
to both tease and break
you. sometimes it feels like
brainwashing, all that
hustling around from one
cell to the next. but like a
drugcounselor said to me
once -I was in need of a
brainwashing anyway as
my mind was fuckin dirty6 months clean is
astounding in any case. I
figure I am around there
too, slipped a lil but it
should be around that time
anyway. shit is dangerous

and i am glad i missed out

on death. it was entirely
possible that I would arrive
at deathparty unscathed,
tho unwilling and sweaty.
true plight man. anyway I
am good. on the up and
up. trying my hardest to
put more frivolous needs
aside in actuality luxuries
and which my fat ass
whined over not having in
lazy heroin stupor after
lazy heroin stupor. I wish
you well on your quest as
it is really a quest. you
have a sleeping giant that
confuses 'I want' with 'I

must have' -if I had known

that from the start, I'd have
had a lot more clean time
than I did my first go at
rehabs. First go was
strenuous, as like yours. A
wilderness program,
basically like if boot kamp
hiked around and learned
how to make traps from
sticks and shit instead of
learned how to kill people.
around half a year total I
spent camping and eating
bullshit. grits, oatmeal,
pasta shit for dinner. and
no pork. no meat products
cept turkey. as for the

experience itself i would

say it was one of the best
of my life

ever notice the

only time we
open our eyes
unconsciously
is when we
wake up or is it
just me also
what abot
eairlaine fewd?

one day i
woke up
and was
#dgaf

Instead of other things, we require

Persons, yet all is stuffed with things,
And doubt a hairiness we should
Forget, dispels a souls attachment,
Making nothing all in us, who change
And marry desperately all the rest
With nocturnal clues, ones that dont
Exist but in some random blessing,
And favor shrugs in place of truth,
A wretched wreath enclosing everyone
In pretty arbitrary commentary, mads.