[--------------------------------------------------------------------------] ooooo ooooo .oooooo. oooooooooooo HOE E'ZINE RELEASE #509 `888' `888' d8P' `Y8b `888' `8 888 888 888 888 888 "Realistic Fabrication" 888ooooo888 888 888 888oooo8 888 888 888 888 888 " by Trilobyte 888 888 `88b d88' 888 o 3/8/99 o888o o888o `Y8bood8P' o888ooooood8 [--------------------------------------------------------------------------] bad man lived in a bad apartment on the bad part of the city in which he lived. he stayed up very late at night and thought about all the things in his life. he didn't sleep much but lived his life in a constant unconscious dreamy state, thinking about things like one would think of things when one was asleep. people would see him and think that he was not asleep, when in fact, he was. and in his apartment he had a stove and on that stove was a light and a fan, and he would turn on the fan when he couldn't sleep, which was always, and it made a nice humming sound that helped him to relax, the constant droning. the light gave just enough light to put the room at a comfortable level of darkness so as to not annoy his eyes, which were always tired, and this helped his head, which was affected heavily by the health of his eyes. in his apartment was a chair, and on this chair he often sat, and he thought, and thought, and he thought. and he didn't do much, he always had money and was always worldly comfortable. he didn't need to work to be a part of the world, things general people need were at his disposal, and he used them, as most people do. and he thought. his thoughts may have had significance, he didn't know, he tried not to think about the significance of his thoughts. he just thought. he would go outside, mostly asleep, yet wide awake, and people looked at him oddly, as if he were sleepwalking. different expressions on each day, disapproving or quizzical looks... he was accustomed, they were commonplace, it was his life and this is what people thought of it. they certainly did not devote large periods of time to development of thoughts about him, his life, his thoughts. they would see him and make a certain expression, based on their immediate evaluation of his outward appearance, and move on to thoughts of busywork, bad man thought, busywork and useless things, things not helping them get anywhere, he thought. maybe their expressions, though, were based on spiritual notions -- things that only badman could perceive and they could ignore. though badman didn't understand these notions, at least he could fathom their existence, which certainly wasn't possible in the feeble brains of nearly EVERYONE around him. and someday would come the one who would make the normal expression. she would see bad man, she would understand, she would not make bad expression. she may make good, smile. badman certainly would know this girl, certainly he would have known her long ago, they would have had their moments together. badman realized the possibility of past lives, he was open to any of these thoughts. he weighed the possibility of past lives coming into play in the modern world and notably tried to ignore their relevance, though, opting instead to focus on more tangible thoughts and tangible people, people he has touched, there had been that indentation there... he thought people talked often about the *spark* between two people, but love isn't a *spark* -- love is an *indentation*. if badman once touched a girl's back. a spark appeared and immediately disappeared. that's *nothing*. *love* is the pressing, it is when bad man pushes his finger ever so lightly into the skin, and removes -- a white spot, surrounded by red, an indentation that stays for a moment, in the mind and in the heart. perhaps the *spark* people so often speak of is a *sexual* *spark* but bad man wasn't a *sexual* person when it came down to it. though past encounters had driven him to *sexual* ways of thought, long deep thought about the subject had led him _out_ of the realm of *sex*. he, at this point in the world, was back in the world of *love*, which is not the world of *sex*, you can have one or the other or you can have both, and he knew, for sure, certainly, and definitely, that one had to come before the other, and that one is only good when accompanied by the other. what is the order? that knowledge would come after longer sessions of thought, he hadn't been thinking about that much, because he had just come to the realization that his *love* had simply disappeared. had it been removed? forcefully? had it been stolen? and not returned? is it gone? does it grow? is it a plant? is there a seed? is it a constant force, like gravity? if gravity and love can be related to each other, then can two people be pulled to each other like the force of gravity? what, then, would keep this love together once the earth has exploded and people only remain as hunks of mangled flesh? oh, it certainly is still there. it can't be seen, it would be one of those forces we don't understand. bad man has been to the desert. bad man knows how it feels. you can see heat. you can taste sweat. but you *feel* desolation. just as you feel *love*. you feel that indentation in your back. and someone will see bad man, she will, someone bad man knew, knows, someone not in bad man's immediate life, badman will be near her, in passing? by choice? by accident? it won't be like other people with bad man. they look at him and don't understand. she will look at him and *accept*. bad man never has needed to be *accepted*. bad man has not *been* *accepted*. but that moment will come, when she sees him, he sees her, they are a realm of acceptance. and bad man closes his thoughts, before drifting off into closed-eyed sleep, knowing that this will happen, it will, acceptance, by the one with whom it matters. it matters only with one. that will come. bad man will sleep in his chair in his apartment, with his fan on, his brain will create elaborate tales of love lost, life to be loved, and only then, with eyes closed, brain open, bad man will see life after he is accepted, how it will be. a glimpse into the future. dreams are fantastic realization and days are realistic fabrication. [--------------------------------------------------------------------------] [ (c) !LA HOE REVOLUCION PRESS! HOE #509 - WRITTEN BY: TRILOBYTE - 3/8/99 ]