preaching

there is no time to work out this writting bizness
i have gotten a tie and a white shirt.

without my drugs.my dopamine agonists etc.
i am visibly stiff.
i am cold and this is not good.i moved west mainly for the heat
and to be near the enemy
the propogators of this mishmash.the jingle makers and definers of the times.all about style ,youth and  a lifestyle
my lifestyle or the one i seek is nowhere in the ads.
it no longer exists.
you see it sometimes in old films.or documentaries of the pennsylvania dutch.
tribes.
tribes are sometimes called cults.
there is a cult of television and ads and youth and sound and sound and pictures and beautiful graceful actors and models .that is all.
there are not other models.
                              Evan rolls around the bed.I see him in a tiny box on the computer.he is glad i am back in PA although i hate it so much.he thinks i am safe here.he knows i wasnt in CA.he's one of them but is feeling the splinter.he told me where to buy the white shirt and said it had to be a sixty dollar tie.it reads.the tie and shirt
" .you need the right setting for your first sermon.until we get a proper churchy situation.it's a shame about the hair t'he white hair .but your eyes swelled so after the last dye job.it can't be helped.might as well throw in the towel.
      "churchy situation", i think,pulpits.wooden benches and woodenness .old fashioned .not quite hectic enuf.
not for me.unless maybe  in a cave .Maybe I caN  go stake out a cave"I say seriously.when i was little my brother and i used to dig holes deep enough for us to hide in.and pretend we were on our own away from the monsters around us

Evan hates me even thinking about my past.he helped get rid of it he can tell i am drifting in and out being here.and is not so sure about this long island bizness.this art bizness.
"i see a preacher dressed like a russian ruler screaming and pounding shoes and cursing decrying the state of things.. no turned head nor cheeks but a few burning stakes.and maybe a tiny blast of Mansonetic blundering,i see it already.Can you play any chords.on a guitar Jimbis?"
"i can sort of play piano.but badly." I say .
I stared into the little circle camera which evan insists i use instead of the phone.to practice.to practice being filmed.my filmings in palm springs were bad."we laugh at your filming jimbis.you must learn the camera is not cruel unless you make it so.How can a preacher hate the camera!I sometimes forget I am a preacher.I still sometimes think I am an artist,
There is a pause .I am good at pausing .I dont speak but look unflinching at the green circle.I think towards Evan.,i am good at yelling though.i have much to yell about.i have too much to burn about .your group has burned me up for a reason.i am your husk." .he can read me now without a headset.the interneural shit was driving me mad.making it hard to piss.sometimes they wanted me to eat only soft food.the situation became that disgusting.there was no off button.we went interneural 24/7...it all became about the machinery.testing it.Towards the end none of either of our thoughts mattered,I might as well have been hearing Voices."

Remembering  ,I come to "you know evan i still have to go back to LA for the pretrial they really want to know my side of the story,I don't know what to say.they don't really buy it according to the DA.the real DA not your DA."
"tell them you heard voices or whatever those schizophrenics say.i told you to look it up"

"i thought we agreed i would say it was the meth"I said
"for the cops you say meth .for the courts"...He throws up his hands"oh nobody believes it was anything but interneural anymore.who'd have thought."
"space aliens"I say,Immediately regretting this
"don't mess with the space aliens.Just say meth and for god's sake don't break anything.and maybe you should wear a baseball cap for the first sermon."
"I'll look forrest gump-ish"
"you ARE forrest gumpish jimbis.slingbladish.that's sorta what we're goiing for.if you can only get that god damned niceness shit down.where'd that niceness go.can it never be recovered."
"it might be gone for good.I need a miracle."
"damien lewis doesnt do it?"
"he's too tall.he's too busy.i need a true companion.."i think and pause..
What I really need is to be walking aimlessly and poor again in the hot sun,with no one i know .i was better like that.that's when i really felt and sought people out.not like this.not "safe" like this.I cant deal with this.I sometimes wish I was in jail.I would be better off.I need structure and or fear to thrive.to feel awake and alive"He sees me thinking thru the little camera i hate .He snaps his fingers.
"why am i preaching again.why do i have to be here and learn how to tell sermons?"
       "
 Because jimbis thats what we told you to do.That's what you are for.that's all.the more you think the more you regress.we will find someone for you to fuck around with ."
"can he be my height.it's always someone too tall or too small"
"you ask for alot Jimbis.we have spoiled you"