Charlie Hampton worked long hours at his tiny shop near the flower district, where he sold perceptual motion machines & various other such oddities and ancient curios of antique times. Business was admittedly poor. There was no longer much call for that kind of carry on, at least not now-a-days, and Charlie often found himself at a loose end. with nothing more to do with his time than spending much of the day in solid bouts of wishful thinking.

Even at this late stage of the game lately I've trying to be a better person. Yeah, I know it's a bit of a fruity concept, but bear with me. Through out my time I've done a few things I'm not proud of, done some things I'm still ashamed of, and generally been prone to fits and starts of total assholism, particularly when unhappy. On the other hand there's been the occasional performance that wasn't exactly appreciated, but about which I still think “fuck yeah! hell yeah! ok!” sweet.

I thought about trying to phrase this. Less childish would be better, susceptible as I am to temper tantrums and the throwing about of toys. You can express your raw pain, a long primordial howl of invective, or:

If you see me hitting on your girl, honestly, it's not what it looks like - swear to God - I'm just trying to connect with someone, experience some real level of real, genuine, human interaction, you know, almost as if we was actual goddamn actual almost GENUINE REAL PEOPLE; and then possibly take her out the back and fuck her brains out, I swear to god. To paraphase Hunter S. - poorly - sometimes self-identifying as a beast is simply easier. A monster has no absolutely no responsibilities. He does exactly what he wants and doesn't care what happens, to anyone, self included.

And that's kinda how you have to be, to survive life. Some days I just think I should become some old troll, hurling my boulders down the mountain at the local village and “laugh” “laugh” “laugh” and be hated. I dunno bro, if you've noticed the pattern or not but all this shit I do is my way of reaching out, touching, or else punching out, caressing a face with flame. Brief ribbon slashes of warm and steaming touch. A snowblind flare of something truly powerful.

It kinda works, but also I feel it fails, in an important sense.

Explosions, all things being equal, are generally greatly preferable to black holes.