Chapter Three

Sometimes I walk around the world and I feel things. And I think things and the way the world takes shape allows my mind to explore all sorts of thoughts and beliefs. I am moving from place to place ever so mystically and then BAM there it goes. I start thinking or talking about something totally unrelated to anything I was thinking or talking about before then. I push through in the rain. I listen to music. I feel very happy suddenly. I park cars with my mind. I play putt-putt. I don’t need to imagine it. I do it. Just do it. This sentence is too long. Oh Got ya! None of these sentences are too long. Keep it in your pants. I feel good. I feel mystic. I feel like I am ‘Rookie Of The Year’-the kid with the incredible arm strength- I am on the mound and my special fastball just disappeared and now is the time when I need my teammates the most and no one is around. Everyone has left the field. Where are you team? Where are you kid from ‘Angels In The Outfield.’ Why aren’t you flapping arms? This is how the world makes me feel sometimes. Like I am looking for the kid who sees the angels in the field and not only do I not see the kid. I don’t see anybody around me at all.
Arby’s, Taco Bell, McDonald’s they all make good food for low prices. I would love to eat them all at once. Like one big mystic triple decker Roast-Beef-Taco-Fry-Burger. That would by mystic. Damn mystic. I am against the internet for some reason; something about how it directs human perception away from the natural world and towards nothingness; I am also against being anti-American. Why does the earth act as a weapon unfired? Something is wrong with this world. Cancer or something. No one will say what. It is a good world. It is. Everything is so good and beautiful somehow. I am crying not just a little. Two tears to be exact. It’s the feeling of so much potential with so little push. I should go back to all those sleeping people and throw love in their face. They need romantic love. The type everyone used to believe in before match.com. It is possible to be happy. It really is. I want to destroy the world with a series of starting acts of kindness; each successive act more unheard-of than the previous. When I go home the entire world will be there, laughing inside our tree fort. I will make a sign with paint and nails and a hammer. The sign will read: “The Worlds Tree Fort Club: Everyone Invited. They will jump up and cry (the world will). We will all cry together. It will be awesome. The future is so bright only if we light it. You can’t light anything if you are sleeping. Unless there is a cigarette left burning in your mouth. But even that is changing. Now there are cigarettes that go out if you don’t inhale. The world is going to burn out like that cigarette. So it’s time to wake up. It’s time to fucking inhale the mystic.