The path to (Fill in the Blank)

The wrapper was written on, and strewed across it with a childs handwriting read,”MiscOnCEPTION=dead”. Michael S. Purtrose stared at the paper, and with a flick of his wrist threw it into the fall air. The wind carried it down the city street, and was pulled down under a taxi tire. As a boy Michael’s mother had always told him her strewed perception view of life, and how God himself had caused the actions we commit on a daily basis. Currently, Michael thought that philosophy was as real as his dreams. Michael turned back to the taxi, and watched it cruise down Main St. His mother was one of THEM. Michael’s thoughts on her concerned his thoughts on THEM. THEM was what had destroyed Michaels reality, and thrown his grasps and ideas into the air we know as life itself. Currently, Michael liked to think, his soul and God had taken a permanent vacation.

Lighting a cigerette Michael stared at the city. A run-away from the age of 15, Michael S. Putrose liked to think himself as the only true human being on the planet. That the whole world was his tv show, and he himself was the main attraction. Perceptions are a skewed bunch, Michael often pondered the likelyhood of his tv show idea to be actually true. At night, he even wished that this was true. Always watching, America tuned in everyday to find Michael S. Putrose living his life. Always hanging, never missing a minute of the ever so important life of Micheal. They were the only people to understand. The tv show directors were millionsaires thanks to Micheal’s hit show, due to the fact that they had filled Michael’s show world with people that didn’t get Michael. As if Michael’s entire life was a joke. Ironically, Michael assumed it was. Michael, a 20 something year old failure, chose that very day that he would become.....something. Even if he had to destroy himself and all that he had to live for, which in its entirely was his apartment, his pet dog Toby, and his job as a waiter at Mcdonalds. Some people would label Michael as a social reject, but Michael didn’t believe in labels. Instead he called these labelers, persons that couldn’t pinpoint their own true self so there fore they had to find the true self in others and had to connect themselves with a group. Instead of an individual. It was bullshit Michael knew, but this bullshit had kept Michael from throwing himself out of a window. Michael now knew he had to, as THEY like to say, FUCK IT.

Heres a Poem I wrote regarding how I feel to THEM

Coughing blood
spewing filth
regardless change
in my brain
thrusting pain
shit the change
unite the time
watch tv
call jack johnson
pay back clinton
This grass makes me smitten


I came twice while the girl writhed underneath my 170 pounds of all american laziness and overall patheticness smuggled the poor girl. My Mcdonalds name tag was imprinted on her forehead, which I had a good laugh over as I lugged her body to the harbor. This self esteem stuff is amazing.

"On sale a 1.51, make your move and BUY BUY BUY,” Michael spray painted this public message over the bottom of a small bridge he crossed over outside of the big city. Last night on the news he listened as the newscunt told about Lisa.He grinned. And twitched.

I have realized now what we as a people need. I have drawn the future. Prisons, where we the people are the fists of justice. We are give 6 minutes to dish out punishment as we see fit to those who saw fit to fit their punishment against us. It’s the all american dream really, Kill or be Killed. And if ya aint killed, Fight back. Redneck handbook 101. Micheal was sure he had this down pact. O yes. Down firm father dearest.

Micheal S. Thinks that some one is trying to kill him.

Sometimes I dress up in my past Mcdonalds uniform and parade around the city. I live on the views people give me, the views scream, and laugh. They see me as a social failure. I do love Irony.

Social failure.....Death.

Pick one, and audience members, do please keep to yourselves. If you do interrupt this life changing event we will be forced to cut off your dignity and shove you into the streets of heaven and/or hell. If your aethiast we will have to cut your daytime soap opera watching time to a maximum of two hours. Sorry Folks.

I read a magazine the other day. I think I will go to Hollywood. They seem to understand crazies.

Sometimes after I cough blood, I imagine I am a fetus. I turn my self, and remember the good ol Catholic days of my youth. Youth itself was my drug. Now I take small white pills to remind the body of the feeling. Micheal's sadness is okay. That's what THEY where made for....to make Micheal Feel.

And feel I shall.