i fucking hate it when the people on my floor (especially the dogs on the 9th floor) steal and then rape my elevator. It happens when I press the button and then it makes some kind of detour because people on the other floors pressed it too. I don’t like sharing elevators because the experience of riding it is such a personal thing for me…

You expect the elevator to be all yours…. to be delivered exclusively for your own desires and needs, and to obey your command and carry you safely and seamlessly on its back to the next destination in your journey. But sometimes that doesn’t happen and I feel like life doesn’t go my way just because some faggots from the other floors, either by chance or fate, are also abusing (or stimulating?) my elevator’s buttons at the same moment just to excite it for their own needs and cravings.

And then suddenly you feel like “existence” suddenly has a new face – it is asymmetrically unveiled and contingently shredded into unrecognizable forms without content. You then have no choice but to give up everything that you thought was made and designed for you to other visceral and fat that are full of odor and weak instincts. The air in the elevator is now hot and contaminated, the walls and ceilings now pressed against my eyelids, my overhead spotlight is now flickering and dissipating because it now has to give light to others as well. What was initially a seamless line of thought – a stream of consciousness that you thought was aligned/in a continuum with the unbroken up-and-down movement of the elevator are now chopped up into heterogeneous fragmentations.

And what’s even more annoying is when these people aren’t getting off on the same floor as you are. If we can’t share the same perspectives in the beginning of our shared journey, at least agree on the destinations. But we just can’t see eye to eye. I despite that infidel and promiscuous little elevator… the way it gives in to other people’s attempts at dominance and conquests, as it goes out of its way to serve and satisfy their needs by making extra detours before it comes back to me. But not after the good is damaged…usually by cigarette butts, dirty shoe prints, wasted electricity, fingerprints, and dead skin cells piling up in the corners. I need my own customized elevator with dip and pull up bars in it so I can be whole with it like the way a fetus is perfected fitted inside its womb…

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-I avoid mating with my mother, smile at friends,fear speaking in public in front of strangers,the tip of my tongue is more sensitive than my elbow,I like foods that are high in sugar,I see a rainbow in four basic colors and my ear can only detect sounds that have frequencies between 440 Hz and 441 Hz,I speak in coherent and grammatically correct sentences in pubic,and if I hold my breath for more than 5 minutes I die.People think I am weird and crazy, but I am a normal human being…just like you.

-My dreams are usually low-budget, independent/avant-garde stuff like masturbating alone in the dark corner of an empty room. But I think Michael Bay, or somebody high up in Hollywood has been funding my dreams…or maybe it’s because my diet’s been more expensive because lately, my dreams have been epic and high-budge – end of the world, sci-fi scenarios with tons of actions, explosions, special effects, and thousands of extras…

-I’m missing airplane foods right now 😦

I love airplane foods because they always taste very good to me due to the fact that you don’t have any other foods to choose from, so you can’t really regret over the alternatives. I hate buffets for the same reason. Sometimes I would be paralyzed with the amount of choices that were presented in front of me, and I end up eating nothing and starving myself half to death.

Also, nothing displays the strangeness of civilization’s advancement more so than eating foods that were originally and organically grown on land hundreds of feet in the air while moving mechanically at hundreds of miles an hour…it violates natural laws so much that it makes me salivate like a dog. Still, I wonder what airplane foods would taste like if I eat it underground, while staying completely still…

-A good way for me to judge whether or not I am liking the way my life is going at the moment is to ask myself this question : Do I go through the day wishing it was already time to go to sleep so that I can finally lose consciousness in a dreamless sleep and unplug from this meaningless existence thing temporarily? Or do I try to stay up awake for as long as possible, even when I am tired as hell, in order to stay up and be attuned to and try to extend this existence thing for as long as I can? in other words, when I wake up in the morning, do I try desperately to fall back asleep and “squeeze” more sleep out of my system like the way I squeeze that last drop of shit through my anus? Or do I immediately jump out of my bed to brush my teeth and get the day started?

If I’m answering yes to the former questions, then I know I’m not in the happiest state nor the best shape of my life, mentally and physically.

Sleep, especially dreamless ones are “socialism” at its best – they are great equalizers that put everyone on the same level. When you are in a dreamless sleep you are no better, stronger, or smarter than the next person who is also sleeping. You can line a 300 lb. black bodybuilder, a month old white infant, Obama, Bin Ladin, my neighbor’s cat and the mice that it feeds on all next to each other when they are in a dreamless asleep, and they will all be equally weak and defenseless…flaps of meat and flesh without consciousness where everyone and everything retrieve back to the ground zero of existence. It’s a mini death, except that you will eventually emerge from dreamless sleep to be ‘thrown’ back into the world to ‘resume’ the role you play in it before you fell asleep. Whether or not such a reenter into the physical world is a positive thing or a negative one could perhaps be depended on the individual and his or her current state of mental and physical well-being.

-free lunch with 陳班班… Gonna put the hours of practicing in front of my mirror the art and skill of eating and talking at the same time (without choking or having food dripping out from the corner of your mouth while still staying articulate) to good use. You really gotta learn the specific areas inside your mouth to quickly hide your food whenever a brilliantly seductive idea that you want to coney suddenly pops up in your head.

-Try crossing over your partner’s nipples and then firmly stuff the right one inside your left nostril and the left one inside your right. And then pretend they are cocaine and sniff them as hard as you can. Build up the pressure by dragging them out slowly, and then suddenly release them by jerking your head back explosively. You will make a really nice popping sound that no wine bottles can match.

-My maid turned into my trainer… to work on my vertical, she took crap in her hand and tossed it up so I can catch it with my mouth in the air like a dog catching Frisbee. I jumped over 40 inches on every try.

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