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Who: everywordmeansfuck What: schizotypal discoteque Where: as far in… - Asa Nisi Masa [entries|archive|friends|userinfo]
Asa Nisi Masa: The Beautiful Confusion

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[May. 11th, 2005|03:42 am]
Asa Nisi Masa: The Beautiful Confusion

asa_nisi_masa

[everywordmeans]
Who: everywordmeansfuck
What: schizotypal discoteque
Where: as far in all directions as the mind can reach
Age: 34
Sexual Orientation: hetero

Favorites-
Books or Authors: Neal Donald Walsch "Conversations with God"
Movies or Directors: Lynch, Lucas, Jean Pierre Jeunet
Actors or Actresses: John Cusack & Drew Barrymore
Songs or Musicians: myself
Poems or Poets: Rimbaud, Ginsberg, Baudelaire
Philosophers: I think most philosophers were too athiestic and serious
Kinds of Art or Artists: cathartic, I like my Art to be self-birthing.
Other Stuff-
The last thing you put in your mouth: cigarette, a Pall Mall light.
Give us a lyric, unpretentious yet meaningful: Copulation brings sadness
Tell us something we don't already know: the answer to this question.
Tell us a riddle, but don't tell us the answer: Free Will

Tell us a story: Once there was a small boy in Paris. 4 years old, he lived inside the decaying body of a cat. The townspeople and street-sweepers humored him because they loved the boy, but none were kind enough to take him in, or cared enough to rescue him from his foul home. People of Paris in those days were stricken with poverty, and often the key affliction of that disease is lack of empathy.
The boy spent all his time inside the carcass of the feline daydreaming. He hadn't yet been taught language by anyone, so his daydreams were visceral and wordless. They danced inside his head constantly and were as rich as full as a long string of pearls on a necklace, replete with heros, vistas of undiscovered planets teeming with alien beings, explosive action scenes and inter-dimensional wonders aplenty.
One day, his fantasies spilled out into waking life, and he suddenly realized that he was able to bring the cat's body to life and walk about the town on all fours. Undetected at night, he stole into the bakery and stuck his left paw onto the lemon meringue pastries, dabbing the creme from the top.
MMMMMMMmmmmmm, how sweet they tasted!
It just so happened that the baker, who lived upstairs, having heard the sloshing galoumph of the rotting cat's feetpads downstairs was hunched in his attic, peeking through a crack in the door, and saw the little grotesque thief in action and remarked to himself in amazement at what his eyes reported. "I must stop this mad horror at once!", he said, and turned away to get his pistol to shoot the phantasm he saw lurking below.
With the pistol fully armed and cocked, the baker pulled the trigger and with a loud report that echoed in the night, the boy, cat-body and all jumped unconsciously from the searing pain of a bullet entering his hip.
Blood filled the cavity of the boy's costume and suddenly he felt less in control of his feline suit's movements. The legs of the cat wound around him tightly, and seemed to move of thier own accord! The opening of the costume in the stomach zippered shut with a gluttonous gurgling sound, and the rotting cat's eyes filled with color and interest.
The boy realized he was now trapped inside the cat itself!
A pained meow was heard, then the cat ran for the exit door.
Two more shots missed, and the cat hissed as the bullets skittered beside him.
Out the door went the zombie cat, and inside the boy screamed but no one could hear it, for the sound had no words to give it form.
Later the next day, the feline lay setting in the cool shade of the church balcony when alongside him came a gentleman dandy.
Seeing the cat's status as a stray, the man picked the cat up by the scruff for his resting spot, and took him home to claim his as a pet for his beloved wife.
Inside, the boy gnashed and dreamt and dreamt, but no power or will could affect anything over his new prison.
The boy soon found himself subsurvient to the the cat's wishes, and found himself eating dead fish with relish and drinking milk from the plate of the gentleman's kitchen.
The End?
Tell us your favorite teacher ever, and why: Mr. Irvin 4th grade science teacher. He was the only teacher whom I ever felt really CARED about his students and saw them as more than just a job.

Show us a picture. Any picture. It could be you, or it could be the grand canyon:


Lastly, Do you promise to post interesting updates to this community at least every now and then so it doesn’t wither and die? That depends, I guess.
Do you keep all your promises? No. but I do try.
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Comments:
From: (Anonymous)
2008-09-23 05:40 pm (UTC)

Neal Donald Walsch

Your favorite author along with a million other of the deaf, dumb, and blind.
(Reply) (Thread)