Hi Cow Girl! What are you up to? I thought I saw you jumping. Are you a jumper? I saw, or imagined your head popping up behind the fence when I sat on my sitting rock. Did you have dinner? I'm hungry. My feet hurt. I'm tired. That was the best water. These critics suck. I'm not going to talk to them. I want to talk to you. Do you know what a jumper is? Have you seen that movie? You can be a jumper in my story. The critic says I'm bad to the girl I asked out in chapter 32. She's the invisible girl. I think she's here now. Hi.
This chapter sucks. You guys suck. I want to go away. I want to go away to my jungle island where I raise wild cats and the critic is to scared to visit and play their car games with me. I already have a cat trainer ready.
Its morning. I woke up thinking I had been kicked out of housing again. I had a fist fight with the guy that stole my burrito 5 months ago in a dream. And the whole dream was my 72 hour notice and letting the housing folks know I was in the wrong again.
Its after work. Closing my eyes while ridding my bike can be difficult, depending on how sneaky my stalkers can try to orient their car for best window visibility. Today was no different. You get good at it. But one of these days a cars going to be backing out of a parking spot and knock my lights out. My feet stink. People are calling me some gifted writer now. I don't think i've published a chapter since 23. They are reading my diary without my consent.
The critic wants so badly to be involved in these chapters, and I must wait before I dedicate an entire chapter talking to them again. I want to visit my counselor, eventually have her read this and then we can go to Costa Rica, and then we can do some stupid rap song, and then we can figure out how to end this book.
The job is really exhausting. They have me convinced "James" ate the Cowgirl out on the internet for a late night show. Thats fine you enjoy my wake like an inner tube with you and every costume you've ever wore in a pile on your head, "James."
hi…is the invisible woman here? Sweet. Hows your power work? How did you get it? Are you hungry? My power is different. I can make the world invisible and then illusion my own scene. The problem is the noise pollution from the people I made invisible. I can be all the way out on my jungle island and I still have to hear their bus drive by. What is "say stop"? Does it work? Am I doing it wrong?
My counselor should just lock me up in the looney bin. I am nuts. I'll just go ahead a certify me nuts before you have to. Is a sedative appropriate to counter the frequency of alcohol. I can't smoke the marijuana correctly without putting myself in jeopardy with my living situation. And I need the alcohol to deture myself from responding in sober anger by yelling out my window. I would try sleeping pills. I'lll try sleeping pills.
They want me to try the girl I asked out right before Elvis had his way with me. A walk never happened, and she has a strong voice that I always pick up the sideways harassment. Double entandra overload. She, as any of these, don't care to know me as a person. They want to be involved in these car games. Late Night show hoaxes, and wishes. No more wishes for anyone!
The critic has just said that "lions keep" me. Yeah make me do some tricks lion! Put me in some circus pants and lets play.