A CONCLUSION OF SORTS

      So I've come to the conclusion that I use more wet wipes than Henry and I don't even like being around the people I like to be around anymore. I'm afraid to cut my toenails because I think they may simply shatter. Do any of the Oak Ridge Boys watch Girls or Enlightened on HBO? How in the hell are there enough sardines and tuna in the world to keep packing all those little cans? When will the act of typing on these keys be enough to power this computer? What's the rate of suicide for toll booth attendants? Why are Republicans completely incapable of producing comedy or art? I love putting epsom salts in my bath but whenever I'm at the store, I always find myself looking down at that big carton and I am simply unable to convince myself to reach down and pick it up. Do most people watch mass hangings and aftermath footage of suicide bombings on their computer nearly every morning while their kid or kids eat organic Fruity Os and watch Thomas The Train or Dinosaur Train or Super Why? Remember Eddie Rabbitt, I Love A Rainy Night? The movie, Convoy? What about Hooper? Come on, Burt Reynolds! Did you know Tiny Tim was a genus? I remember a golden sheet of light once shooting in through the sliding glass door onto that itchy orange carpet in front of my bare feet upon the floor and there was something on tv about some people traveling around in the future in this caravan on some desolate planet and they were completely alone and this movie or show or whatever the hell it was had an enormous affect on me but I can't for the life of me remember enough about it to Google it to try to figure out what the hell it was. And today we may have another baby or tomorrow but no later than Wednesday. How the hell do we go on with a straight face in this world? It is so utterly comical and yet so horribly sad. Would Orson Wells have simply Facebooked? I know James Baldwin would've. Bukowski for sure. Was there really a Superbowl? Did Beyonce really perform? Can such things really happen? How in the fuck can we justify these things? Babies are exploding in Syria! I mean, you may read that or hear me say it, but seriously, listen to me, take a moment and think about it. Envision a perfect little baby girl in your mind. A sweet, innocent little soul, smiling and blinking at you. Maybe you have enough imagination to hear that little voice. Can you smell her? Can you reach out and touch her arm? Her hands, her tiny fingers? Now realize that there is without a doubt a little girl like this over there who is just about to hear a horrible sound and see a burst of light just before she is turned into fresh dripping hamburger meat! Now THAT is the rotten truth of this world, the disgusting reality. Ah, yes, the gruesomeness is always there. The energy that creates such things never goes away, it simply moves around this withering world as easily as the weather. This is why I must laugh when I hear a godawful song by Kenny Chesney or John Mayer. This is why almost nothing works. Are we really going to make another movie about a goddamn superhero? Another season of Dancing With The Stars? Jesus Fucking Christ, this world and its people! Its pathetic. It is exactly 10:48 a.m., Friday, Feb 22cd. My name is Philip Adam Bram. I am 41 years old and nearly everything I hear and see is an abomination to all I believe. Ya know, I was born in Florida, in Jacksonville Florida. I was... Oh, shit, Sarah just pulled up with Henry! I was supposed to put on some laundry and clean the kitchen. I better go! If she finds out I've just been sitting around on the couch, Facebooking, I'm fucked! Okay, later!