- I love you, Today.

- I think I'll get the blueberry flavor.

- You know you can get a mix, like White Melon Grape, or Pomegranate Cranberry, Strawberry Mint or somethin'—I dunno, those might just be juice flavors I'm thinking of.  Whatever, you decide.

- No, just blueberry.

- Ok, I'll tell the waitress...

- She smiled at me.

- She smiled at me, too.

- You think she likes me?

- Who knows.  Probably not...but maybe.

- I just like it when she smiles at me.

- Me too.  We should smile more often.  Someone else might like it when we smile—

- So much eyefucking going on here!

I was pacing around for hours.  I couldn't pray.  I couldn't pray at all.  I thought I was beyond that now.  That I had been exposed and there's no room left for me, no room for me to even believe. I thought the world despised me—that my writing too was evidence of shit!—and everybody has been waiting.

It had all become clear to me again.  I hate when that happens.

And sometimes, I just need to get my ass kicked to come back to life.

He's here.

Not here, over there ~~~~>

still can't find the house show channel...?

- Where is Today?

let's hope he doesn't trip...

he's coming...

- Counting your tips on the job again?

- (Marcy) What are you doing here?  That time a month again?

- No, not yet.  I want to break through my 30 day wall before next year.

- (Marcy) Where are you at this time?

- Don't be condescending, woman—I dunno, I started mid-second week.

- (Marcy) Now, sexually, that hawkish tone is doing wonders for me.

- You seen Today?

- (Marcy) You don't learn, do you?  How much this time?

- Shit, I never got him anything—and what do you care, you're not getting gifted by me.

- (Marcy) Hot!  No, baby, he hasn't come by.

- He hasn't?  This is better than a pageview reason for him to—we just went at it...

- (Marcy) Why would you—

- Shut up, I don't need you anymore.

- (Marcy) Do me! With your insecurities!

- Where is he...where is Today?

- You're back?

- Yep...nice night to be out somewhere...don't you think?

- Did you send the package I gave you?

- Like somewhere with smoke...heaters...and girls...?

- No.

- Got a stooge?

- You're manipulative, you know that?

- But I just want to hang out with you.  

- No, Today, you act according to your interests. You run based on how you can get what you want at the moment.

- Are you angry at me?

- Did you send the fuckin' letter like I asked you to?

- Why are you mad at me?

- Because you're my addiction!

- (exit Today)

- Crybaby.

- Did you get some sleep?  You were so nervous yesterday.

- A little, troubled sleep.  What are your dreams like?

- You and me, hanging out at a hookah bar.

- I'll take you for Christmas.

- Can we go tonight?

- No, I have to plan out something to get my blog back.

- You can do your planning there.  You'll look like a busy man in front of all the hotties.

- I'm so stupid—

- They won't know that—

- I shouldn't have told you.  Now you're going to ask me everyday until we go.

- It's my dream—

- It's not your dream...oh wait, I guess it is your dream.

- Yea...

- You know what I dreamt last night?

- I can only dream!

- No, it was sad.  This guy was boxing up his electronics and trying to sell it to me for $160 or $120 as a package, but I wasn't saying anything.  

- You can probably sell it for more.

- The boxes were in a shopping cart—Yea, I'm sure it was worth more than that.  And he kept going down.  I think at the end he asked for $5 and I could see his face getting sicker.  I felt like crying when I woke up...like you, I guess.  I still remember the strain on his face.  He looked like a high school jock.

- I wonder what he's doing.

- (laughs) He asks about you.

- Let's take a selfie.

- I'm tired, Today.

- Today...Today?

- (groaning) Hmm?

- You asleep?

- Yea, I was having—

- Get up!

- What?  Why?  Wha' happen—

- C'mon.  I can't sleep.  I'm tired of lying around not sleeping.

- (groaning) Ohh, do I have to?

- Yes.

- (groaning) Do I have to?

- What did I just say?

- What did you...(yawning)..say?

- I said, Yes!

- Okay, okay...(murmuring)

- What?  Are you...are you crying?

- um-hmm...

- Jesus Christ.  Why are you—

- It's how I deal with waking up early.  It helps me cope.

- What the...

- It's like a splash to my face and now I can get out of bed!

- You're weird.  Come on, we're going to the donut shop, watch the game.

- The Kings game?

- You're a genius, you know that?  

- You said it's okay to be delusional.

- I know, be delusional.  Real's playing at 7AM.

- Are you asleep?

- Yes.  

- I think I might have SARs.

- I knew it was a bad idea to let you take those old newspapers from the garage sale.  

- Did you hear about that three pointer Robert Horry made against the Kings?  I saw the picture.  

- Go to sleep, Today.

- It must have been some game.

- Can you see?

- No.  Wait, I think I see a—No.  No...I don't think so. 

- Let me help.   I'll give you a lift. 

- Yea, help me up there.

- You think it'll hold?

- I'm not sure.  Here, let's buttress this bitch.

- How?

- Move back a little.

- Here?

- No, a couple more lines.

- What do you think?  

- Not much.  Go down one more.

- Here?

- All right, let's try it.

- Anything?

- The same.

- Ah, that's no good.

- It's no use....

- Ungood.

- It's as it should be, I guess.  Help me back down, Today....(both sigh, resigned)

- What do you think he's doing over there?

- No point thinking about something I can't control, is there?

- He's probably kissing your poems.

- (sigh)

- Touching her ellipses.

- It's not my ellipsis.

- I know, it's everybody's.

- Knock it off.

- You're right...I'm better than that...

- No, you're not.

- We're better than that.

- (singing together) 

Oh we oh, I look just like Buddy Holly.  Uh oh, and you're Mary Tyler Moore.  I don't care what they say about us anyway, I don't care about that!

Oh we oh, I look just like Buddy Holly.  Uh oh, and you're Mary Tyler Moore.  I don't care what they say about us anyway, I don't care about that!

Oh we oh, I look just like Buddy Holly.  Uh oh, and you're Mary Tyler Moore.  I don't care what they say about us anyway, I don't care about that!

- You wanna drive thru?

- We gotta do something about your diet, old girl.

- Are you talking to me or your horse?

- Are you an old girl?

- That would make a lot more sense—then why'd you word it that way?

- What way?

- (both) Oh we oh, I look just like Buddy Holly.  Uh oh, and you're Mary Tyler Moore.  I don't care what they say about us anyway, I don't care about that!

- Today?  Come on.

- Leave me alone.

- Where you going?

- None of your business.

- Come on, get in the back.  Check out our slab, man.

- Big deal.  

- C'mon, before I get a ticket for all the shit on the street.

- I could hear you coming.

- It's all gonna lead back to us.

- You're so selfish.  Everything I do for you—I'm always here when you need me, and then you forget about me when you decide to forget about me.

- (mutters) Yea that seems to be the case.

- You say we're together again, and then you insult me...so leave me be and do what you want to do, and I know what that is...

- I know, I don't have a good response...

- So?  Adidos amigos!

- Come on, my shit's all over the street.  Hey, why is your mom going to cancel your membership?  What happened to your money?  I mean, I know I'm not in any position to ask...

- None of your business...I spent the last of it on a present for you though.

- Really?

- I know I couldn't trust myself right now, so I thought I could get you something so you could go to the gym with me like we used to.

- You got me something?  What'd you get me?

- None of your business.

- Well, it kind of is—C'mon, what'd you get me?  Hold on—park, you fuckin' horse.  Ara, park!

- LA Gears, with the pumps.

- Like from the 90s?

- I know they were your favorite.

- Oh my god, I was the most popular boy in all of Massiv.  All the girls liked me and their brothers were after me...everybody was pumping my shoes.  They'd push me against the wall, threaten me...then they'd get down on their knees and pump my shoes.

- I bought them from a guy I met in class...

- I don't know what to say...

- Who knows how to get things...

- So...they're like, used?

- They're collectibles—antiques.  The guy's a real sharpshooter.  I thought you could go running in them since you were helping me get disciplined, or become a basketball player...then you disappeared again...

- Oh, jeez...shit.

- I kept them for you.  I pumped them a few times but—

- No, I'm sorry, Today.  I hope you can accept that.

- Well...do you have an extra helmet for me?

- Come on, hop on, it smells too much here.

- No, mom, I can't come home.  He's my friend—I can't leave him like this....Then I won't!  Look, mom, he's lost all his friends, his blog...his blog...(whispering) Mom, he just discovered he's a loser, I gotta be by—

- Stop whispering; I can hear you.

- Oh, he just woke up, the poor thing.  (whispering) He looks dreadful.

- Stop talking about me.

- (Today, still on the phone) No, don't cancel the membership!  I'm going to talk him into going with me.  No, don't cancel it!  Well, I don't know why...(whispering) I think he's gotten too fat to go.

- I haven't gotten too fat—I just don't want to go stupid swimming.  Seeing a protein bar makes me want to start crying.

- Mom, he's crying.

- I'm not crying.

- Oh, mom, I better tend to him. (click)

- I'm not crying.  It was an expression to reveal my existential conundrum.

- Oh, I don't care, baby, she's the worst.  I wanted to get off the phone.  This is so great!  Us together again, shacking it up together!  Mom's boring.  Come on, baby, let's go to the gym!

- Stop talking like you're a big fat black dude...ah, Today...I didn't mean it....where are you going?  He's gonna start crying now.  Great, one extremist helping another extremist. 

- Leave me alone.

- You look so dreamy when you sleep.

- I said leave me alone.

- Were you dreaming of sex?

- Let me sleep.

- Or were you dreaming of marriage?

- I was dreaming of others getting married.

- I got some food for us...

- Oh?

- While you were asleep.  I gathered some twigs and berries.

- Food's the only thing that—Wait a minute, these are twigs and berries.

- I know; we're living the outlaw life.

- We're not eating twigs and berries, Today.

- I was hunter gathering while you were dreaming of marriage.  Here, have a dried mulberry, my love.

- I'm going back to sleep.

- I fought off a squirrel for you.

(knock-knock)

- Yea, come in.

- Are you sure it'll be all right if I do?

- Will you hurry up and come in, Today?

- All right, what's up? Why'd you want to meet here?

- Need you to help me.

- Oh, back by popular demand, am I?

- Yea, some kind of demand.

- What happened?

- We gotta get this blog running again.  

- What happened to your other one?

- I got kicked out by...by some prick terrorist.

- What? How'd he kick you out?

- I don't know, he got into my account and changed the password, I think.  Then I couldn't remember the security questions cause I was—I dunno, don't ask me about computers and phones anymore.

- I'm not.

- Just don't do it...confusing myself to death.

- Okay, I'll try harder.

- I don't want you to say you'll try and then ask me about computers again...cause I won't have it.

- I'm going to make you a promise!

- Here, grab an end, wise guy.

- What we doin'?

- Isn't it obvious?

- I guess it kind of looks like a—

- We're propping up the blog.  You got it?

- I think I got it.

- Move back a little.

- Here good?

- You think so?

- I dunno.

- Prolly should take up a few more lines just to be on the safe side—keep moving back.

- You'll tell me?

- Yea, when I can see.  What have you been up to?

- You know me, without you I'm nothing.

- Every waking moment I've been asleep, too. 

- Here good?

- It's as good as it's going to get right now, I guess.

- Looks good.  What are we gonna do now?

- Lie underneath like scared little children who are afraid of the world.

- I brought some french fries.

still love.  

still love,

a few burittos

my brain or body keeps thinking it's hungry because of my recent behavior. It's all impulse. Having difficulty with my output, the writing.  Nothing too concrete, I keep falling over, trying to get some momentum going

still love,

still love,

a few burritos

Love for others is important these days.  Reading the news is like the beginning of some type of apocalypse, a brownie apocalyse

Last night I felt one of the most beautiful feelings of my life, when I gave up and let it out.  It was all impulse.  I knew if keep living for myself, I'll destroy myself, and it'll burn like hell.  I'll be so busy enjoying it, I won't give anyone a chance to love me. I cried the whole time on my bicycle ride home—well, I also stopped in a diner for a Thanksgiving dinner and had been up for a few days but whatevrr.  I was so happy, crying and singing for you; crying in there, too, smiling at people, talking to my food like they were little children, it was a sappy movie; I felt you were with me, and down the street, the people in other homes could hear it, the ecstasy in yearning.  I took a selfie for you while riding, it's on my phone.  I have tears and look worn, but there is joy erupting from my eyes.  And I'm just looking at you.

I gave up last night.  By 4PM the next evening, I was going to call my dealer again.  Fuckin' Santa Monica has the most beautiful people.  But in my brain, it gets corrupted and vulnerable.  Whatever I do today, is not enough for tomorrow.

I'm out of my depth here.