Notes from Notes:

I was with this girl for a second and she attempted suicide five times and failed. Told her she was fucking terrible at it. Said did you ever try something different or you just keep doing the same over and over. She had a tattoo on her thighs said “Hell” on one leg and “High Water” in the other. She told me she got it after her fourth attempt. Naked in bed. I asked, which one did you get after number five. 

Skipped dinner no food and only caffeine. Feels like how movies portray it feels to be on acid. You feel like you’re on acid? No. I’ve done acid it doesn’t feel like this. It feels like the portrayal. Acid feels like…

“Welcome home” opening line. Visiting Belgium, but just has a very Belgian last name. Atrocities. Could very well build historic, think Pynchon and Nairobi. At the height, cut to social credit in US  black mirror. . Social credit system. What if they’re great great grandfather came over great grandfather whatever it is right and then you explore backwards what did the great grandfather do? What did the grandfather do? Well, how did the great grandfather have his wealth when he came to the United States and he got his wealth through a chain of imperialism. Follow the imperialism back look at what the Flemmings or Belgian did in Africa and follow it and work into the atrocities that occurred and that’s that’s thedennoument  to set up this individual back in the United States before the social credit system comes into play right so part one is an exploration backwards of the atrocities that this person‘s lineage committed. Part two is the introduction of the social credit system, but they’re looking at white slave owners and now this individual is getting away with it and is now looking down on the other white people through white righteousness and guilt against these ordinary people that are now blemished permanently because we as a society know you as a slave owner, that’s what we know you today, regardless of who you are this is your lineage. Now you can explore some people get proud. Some people are loud about it. Some people say my grandfather was it was a capitalist and you create the strong rift and division and maybe the part three or the end or or you know we need some kind of tale here whether it’s romance and someone struggling with having dated these people or wherever you go, this is part two is where you need the actual plot synopsis, but part three could be the introduction in Europe and now knowing the Guil and atrocities that are in route for this individual who is now fallen in love or or whatever they’ve they’ve overcome and accomplished

Part I starts with “welcome home” he said with a smile. But he didn’t say welcome home, he said xxxxxx say it in Belgian. And part II starts with “welcome home” welcome back to America.  Part 2 romance conflict of the lover is her mixed heritage. Love for her father or mother, can choose, yet blemish of some smaller slave ownership at some point. Male lover at least for now isn’t exposed. 

Belgians collecting a full villages hands. 

Udaiy Hussain. 

Exotic pussy in modern day. Indian pussy and the color change. Versus savage back in the day and Belgian conquest. 

Suicide prevention. Only you can prevent killing yourself. On the subway. Alone tattoo above the shirt cuff. 

“Welkom thuis” a greeting, and a smile. Met by quiz, disarmed by his warmth but understanding nothing. His smile fades. The warmth fades into the verdant patchwork of uniform, and some of the light disappears into the banal check-in. “Welcome home,” with a light chuckle more robotic and trained than inviting, “your last name is Flemmish, were you aware?”

Two weeks in the homeland. Well, really ten days and a veritable jaunt to the other side of the family tree up in Amsterdam. ***here you can describe the trip, all expense paid to experience your heritage. Describe the tsa check in happening. The guard. And then the response.  “Outrun my bullet” foster and the people. 

Named Kylian? Kil. 

Gumshoe mutts. 

What does the starling smell that leads the flock left or right, and who is the starling catalyst that brought me here today. 

Quinine and malaria allowing whites in. French in Algeria so maybe no direct connection to discovery but maybe an early user is in the family tree. Later on what if an uncle does cranial measurements? Any tie with the Exxon era of the family tree wealth building, funding of Angolan war, and Desert Storm? Lord please let me see the enemy. Anyone. An enemy. A woman. Anything moving Lord. Take my pain and let me aim. 

Kupie Hair and Mothballs

You’re doing okay? Your bills are covered? 

Listing of where all the kids are

Doris is “my wife”

Methodist church

Didn’t touch the steak

12 minutes to get the train running with music

Pissed off he couldn’t get up “no no no”

Bad knees hips arthritis

Unable to get up first try and exactly like dad pushed to not have any help

We said cmon we wouldn’t want you to say we visited and you couldn’t get up. Very gravely that’s not funny to joke about

Shook hands

Squirrels. Meals on wheels. Innocuous 

Can’t go to basement. House has mice

Pharmacy “didn’t do that well” and do you need money?

Crying at the ore docks over her not having me after 13 and that’s not fair and not enough time… no memory of UWM saving money on dorms. And crying, sitting in silence. 

Stillborn neighbor he made a deal. He prays for the daughter and they mow his lawn. 

He has another

Dad ran off to Milwaukee with the van hoof brothers. But he lived in little chute for years and had to sneak into the house when he wasn’t home to see family. 

All the lights were off

Said he should get a cat for the mice, we’re using the cat as an excuse to exit get back for Lee, he said no cat. They wanted me to get a dog when my wife passed, but that’s no way to replace your wife. 

About 2.0

A love letter over the internet, but you’re the only person that’s ever read this. Lord knows you’re the only person who even knows I have this website. So a kite out in the ether. Kite is a term used to reference letters sent to prisoners to remind them of the outside world, and it brings a certain child in a green park during the summer visual. But herein a love letter nevertheless. You’ll have to forgive me stylistically, I’ve been reading far too much DFW to not stray tangentially to land circumnavigate to a point, but I’m no Wallace. It’s funny, in a fun kind of way, when I look back on when we first met you feel so small. Smoll. Tiny in the best way, tiny and small in a way that made you all mine, yet you were then probably the least mine as ever. Laying in bed telling you I’d have you always, even if you were walking home I’d have you or someone was after you in an alley I’d be there, I’d have you always. A far cry for “everything will be okay because we say it will.” That’s love. Maybe a day will come where you don’t at some moment take over my universe, but that hasn’t happened yet. Not a day has gone by without you on my mind; is this my attempt as cathartacism? Should that have been italicized as internal thought? If there’s one thing I’d irraticate, if there’s one thing I would dispel, obliterate, cast off into the darkness from where it came it’s fear. If fear wasn’t present you wouldn’t have cried at matador in our not so quiet quiet booth. Tears took me aback. Just another dagger it seems. 

I’ve prayed countless nights not to lose you, I’ve prayed countless nights for peace. Prayed to God to keep you in my life so many times, and today I pray I know my worth. 

I prefer the unabridged excitement when you scoop me from the airport. 

I could be happy the rest of my life with a cinnamon girl. 

Share eulogy no one got to read. Share notes. (related to about 2.0)

There’s a reason the general sentiment was disappointment and disrespect. I’d have to lack the smallest iota of self worth to ignore it. The general sentiment amongst my friends was you wanted to (or were) fuck (fuvking) someone guilt free. And that’s okay, go crazy. I can’t say it wasn’t my first thought. But therein you should queue the deservedness. Deservedness of more. The room is empty, fill it with stone. Who am I? But I’m more than that. So Many Details, word for word, driving west on the 26. God grant me the ability to accomplish my potential.

As strange as it seems I’d rather dissolve than have you ignore me. 

You’re out of your mind if you don’t think I think about you all the time. Can’t be a stranger if you’re always on my mind. 

If I’m distant it’s because I’m hurting

A haiku how funny. 

Airport drop offs and returning bliss. 

With Love. Can finally say it without scaring you away cuz you’re already gone. 

A beautiful soul, a beautiful mind that made me a better man. 

This has sat in my notes as About 2.0 for a website graveyard that only one person has ever read. 

Missing piece of my heart. 

Still blue; always. 

I have long ass soliloquies and a eulogy for my father that’s never been read out loud, but the message no matter how reiterative and redundant of my feelings is I have and always will have love. Nothing but shared blessings. Not a moment for what could’ve been, but gratitude for what was. It’s love and always will be, and that doesn’t change. How I’ve treated you is unique, and always will be. Thank you for making me greater than I was. Still blue; always. 

How do you like your independence? Freeing. Still using my night light. 

Express love. And I have for a long time. Funny…

Couldn’t say. When did you forget how to fly. 

Life’s funny how I can finally say that scary little loathe some word without scaring you away because you’re already gone. 

Everything will be okay because we say it will. And you will occupy a space in my heart because I say you will.