Chapter 37




Chapter 37
I'm watching 13 warriors now.  Hari kari was a method of my suicide thoughts with some twists.  I like this movie.  I find no transition to involve my chapters, so I pick and choose at my wim when to start a new one.  fairly as my sentences are.  The critic said "fairly" as I wrote fairly.  A car alarm is going off.  My illusions that I can make, cannot make sound.  That is this powers fault.  If a bad guy had this power and wanted to rob a bank.  It would be me in line that made an illusion of a crazy guy with a machine gun cut in front of me as I stood patiently in line.  He would point the gun at me and I would have a real bag, all in quiet the illusion would have to point the gun at the bag and the money and make the teller give it to me.  Speed and then the fact that I would have to physically carry the money.  And then i would have to change my appearance, which I could do by making illusion cast on the outside of my actual skin.  This is how I make peoples but fat when I said in the earlier chapter.  If you are sitting down, I have to imagine you and your normal butt, and then add fat to it.  You can't see it at first, but the power becomes stronger and then you can see it.  It would be possible to rob a bank with this power.  I would like to know how.  I think I just how'd.  
The critic is saying things.  I'm not paying attention.  It is why I drink.  This is my favorite movie, because it is in a different language and I can read the subtitles.   And then I can say things to my co-workers without them knowing what I said, and then I can teach them an awesome of what I said.  Try it.  Say your favorite word in five different languages.  When I can say that to any word I will be the happiest camper.  Look at me all excited to learn words now that I don't have internet.
I feel like the lady in this movie that paints with her mouth.
Did you know that at one time my telephone number was 7654321!  Ups and downs and lost jobs and banks account, it would be fun to still have that number.  I don't know who will answer if you call that number, please don't.
I'm still speaking to you, the counselor.  But I am speaking to my critics, and future readers as well.  When I can hear your voice next week I will learn what you sound like.  You will learn of me.  And then I will truly know when you, the counselor is actually partaking in this invading of my space, and talking at my window.  Or a bugged in my room some where.  Or the computer has its own voice, as does the T.V.
The critic says I should "spell" the word counselor.  c-o-u-n-s-e-l-o-r.  Its because I am a horrible speller.  And certain words I spell differently every time.  
I think problems should be solved the old way.  With wooden swords.  If you were in a village that didn't have guns and only swords you would totally want your children to be good at sword fight, and sword fight edict apart the tree.  And then the bow too.  I heard we are truly not as good of bow users as the real traditional bow users were..  And let them go in the yard and play with sticks.  And or stones.  I stole a bola from my brother.   In my clepto hate faze.  I gave it to a girl I was trying to catch.  It didn't work.  I am crazy.   Now I walk to work in the far off wilderness miserable majestic and the deers know me.  The deers that will cluster to a meadows side road and acknowledge me when I walk past them.  I feel like snow white and the love for all the creatures in the forest.  Deers are funny.  A pounce and they away from you, enjoying every facet of all day.  Accept they are weary, too weary.  They need to, be aware.  Opened eye'd every time, what if we eat them again.  A big buck gave me permission a while back.  Some times they get in my way on my way to work.  Like 6 does were in the path.  There were two bucks, off to the side.  And then a big buck standing in the road.  Normally, I go up to the road to walk passed the path stricken deer.  But this time I couldn't.  So, I stopped and I wait.  The big buck watches it all.  He bows.  I bow.  And the does move.  There were cars stopped at this point because they couldn't pass.  I really enjoy nature.  I feel I will never understand nature.  Also one time on a hike in the back trails of this far off majestic miserable wilderness I approached a sharp corner in a path.  A large rock is directly in front of me.  As I reach the rock a squirl pops his head on top of this boulder that is twice my height.  And schreaches.  Makes a loud squeaking noise, to which I respond with the same noise, pressing my lips together and releasing the same octave in whistle pressure.  The squirl then makes the same noise.  Then I make the same noise.  This goes on.  Then It makes the same noise, all the time it is standing looking confused with its hands held arm bent at the side.   Then A couple of tourist people come happily walking into the joint of the path, and I freak out and walk past them quickly.  Don't dress me as snow white, I am all of the dwarves.