P0P-Naturalism is Not my Cup of Tea but I'll consider It

Dearly Naily Sitcom,
Tonight the cat collides with the TV realism of good old childhood shows we once frequented in the twilight hours of our youth. But who says youth is subject to age? There seems a potential party in every object I turn my attention to. Bjork delivers it when she screams I Remember You, delivers in a way poems once were when the now extinct milkman once paraded through the neighborhood. We were born a few decades too late but still, I remember. My knuckles yearn to be loved. Not even my face, but my knuckles. Didn't you know that every time we sneeze the angels still take their positions, get the car started, in case our heart skips a tad too many beats? In my mind I slap and smear a forest all over the brightly lit Land of Text-messaging and retrieve one or two misunderstandings. In my mind I hang onto objects as though they were all made of playdough, slip it through the wringer and label it failure for fun. Max is on the windowsill staring at a blue cab pulling into the driveway I want to believe he knows himself well enough to notice its just thoughts passing. There goes another one.

Finding the mark of this, as Gios would call "Wave", there are only instances we can gather and refer to as something that already exists. It's almost nauseating but I'm trying to muster up the courage to just say fuck it nothing is New. And then there are the occasional "wait, this hasn't been done yet--let me try" or "wait, this looks pretty as a concept--i better not touch it." I think I was born a spectator of all of this; the same kid spectator of tv shows I'll never stop becoming. Reclining and nodding chin to that which tickles my fancy. I have daydreams of conceptualizing something that can be made or done but only for the viewer to do after I am dead and gone to heaven--a whole series of them not to be opened until my eyes close and title-ing it "Happy Things to Do On Your own Time". This is what I do in order to feel like I can make myself cry from 50 miles away inside myself. From 50 miles away inside myself there is a figure one-inch small standing around smiling with a real big heart made of the world. Can you see it?

In the name of the ----- Amen.

heartly,
Clip House