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You Can Order Yourself To Treasure A Moment, To Cling Tight To A Feeling And Never Let It Fade, But It's Your Brain, That Three-pound Lump Of Hamburger, That Makes The Final Call.

-Isaac Marion

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You Can Order Yourself

Isaac Marion

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You Can Order Yourself To Treasure A Moment, To Cling Tight To A Feeling And Never Let It Fade, But It's Your Brain, That Three-pound Lump Of Hamburger, That Makes The Final Call.

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Sometimes I Wonder If He Has A Philosophy. Maybe Even A Worldview. I'd Like To Sit Down With Him And Pick His Brain, Just A Tiny Bit Somewhere In The Frontal Lobe To Get A Taste Of His Thoughts. But He's Too Much Of A Toughguy To Ever Be That Vulnerable. - R On M

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Every Experience, Good Or Bad, Is A Priceless Collector's Item.

It's A Strange Feeling, Being So Utterly Surrounded By Her. Her Life Scent Is On Everything. She's On Me And Under Me And Next To Me. It's As If The Entire Room Is Made Out Of Her.

Here We Are On The Road. We Must Be Going Somewhere.

I Wince At Her Use Of The Word "human." I've Never Liked That Differentiation. She Is Living And I'm Dead, But We're Both Human. Call Me An Idealist.

Differentiation

I Want Life And In All Its Stupid Sticky Rawness.

There Is No Ideal World For You To Wait Around For. The World Is Always Just What It Is Now, And It's Up To You How You Respond To It.

...and We'll See What Happens When We Say Yes While This Rigor Mortis World Screams No.

The Sports Arena Julie Calls Home Is Unaccountably Large, Perhaps One Of Those Dual-event 'super Venues' Built For An Era When The Greatest Quandary Facing The World Was Where To Put All The Parties.

I Wish People Were Willing To Dig A Little Deeper Than The Surface Elements Of A Premise Before Tossing One Story In With Another.

What Happened? How Did I Get Here? How Could I Have Known That My Choices Mattered?

I Would Like My Life To Be A Movie So I Could Cut To A Montage.

Nothing Is Permanent. Not Even The End Of The World.

End Of The World

Why Is It Beautiful That Humanity Keeps Coming Back? So Does Herpes.

My Friend "m" Says The Irony Of Being A Zombie Is That Everything Is Funny, But You Can't Smile, Because Your Lips Have Rotted Off.

You Might Say That Death Has Relaxed Me.

Now I’m Just Standing Here On The Conveyor. Along For The Ride. I Reach The End, Turn Around, And Go Back The Other Way. The World Has Been Distilled. Being Dead Is Easy. After A Few Hours Of This, I Notice A Female On The Opposite Conveyor. She Doesn’t Lurch Or Groan Like Most Of Us. Her Head Just Lolls From Side To Side. I Like That About Her. That She Doesn’t Lurch Or Groan. I Catch Her Eye And Stare At Her.

We're Fumbling In The Dark, But At Least We're In Motion.

In My Palm I Can Feel The Echo Of Her Pulse, Standing In For The Absense Of Mine.

You Can Order Yourself To Treasure A Moment, To Cling Tight To A Feeling And Never Let It Fade, But It's Your Brain, That Three-pound Lump Of Hamburger, That Makes The Final Call.

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Live In The Moment

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My "heart". Does That Pitiful Organ Still Represent Anything? It Lies Motionless In My Chest, Pumping No Blood, Serving No Purpose, And Yet My Feelings Still Seem To Originate Inside Its Cold Walls. My Muted Sadness, My Vague Longing, My Rare Flickers Of Joy. They Pool In The Center Of My Chest And Seep Out Of There, Diluted And Faint, But Real.

Of Course, If I Eat All Of Him, If I Spare His Brain, He'll Rise Up And Follow Me Back To The Airport, And That Might Make Feel Better. I'll Introduce Him To Everyone, And Maybe We'll Stand Around And Groan For A While. It's Hard To Say What 'friends' Are Any More, But That Might Be Close.

I Feel An Unfamiliar But Pleasant Sensation In My Lips, Tugging Them Upward. This Is... New.

We Smile, Because This Is How We Save The World.

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What Happened To The World Was Gradual. I've Forgotten What It Actually Was, But I Have Faint, Fetal Memories Of What It Was Like. A Smoldering Dread That Never Really Caught Fire Till There Wasn't Much Left To Burn. Each Sequential Step Surprised Us. Then One Day We Woke Up, And Everything Was Gone.

And Yet ... But What If ... I Want To Do Something Impossible. Something Astounding And Unheard Of. I Want To Scrub The Moss Off The Space Shuttle And Fly Julie To The Moon And Colonise It, Or Float A Capsized Cruise Ship To Some Distant Island Where No One Will Protest Us, Or Just Harness The Magic That Brings Me Into The Brains Of The Living And Use It To Bring Julie Into Mine, Because It's Warm In Here, It's Quiet And Lovely, And In Here We Aren't An Absurd Juxtaposition, We Are Perfect.

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Inspirational Love

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Exclamation Marks

Punctuation Marks

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I Adapt To Things Quickly, Including Good Things, Which I Wish I Could Shut Off Sometimes.

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What's Wrong With People?" She Says, Almost Too Quiet For Me To Hear. "were They Born With Parts Missing Or Did It Fall Out Somewhere Along The Way?

Here It Comes. My Inevitable Death, Ignoring Me All Those Years When I Wished For It Daily, Arriving Only After I've Decided I Want To Live Forever.

Inevitable Death

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There’s Not Really Such Thing As ‘good’ Or ‘bad’ People, There’s Just Like…humanity. And It Gets Broken Sometimes.

All The Shitty Stuff People Do To Themselves... It Can All Be The Same Thing, You Know? Just A Way To Drown Out Your Own Voice. To Kill Your Memories Without Having To Kill Yourself.

What Wonderful Thing Didn't Start Out Scary?

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Came To . . . See You.” “but I Had To Go Home, Remember? You Were Supposed To Say Good-bye.” “don't Know Why You . . . Say Good-bye. I Say . . . Hello.” Her Lip Quivers Between Reactions, But She Ends Up With A Reluctant Smile. “god You're A Cheeseball. But Seriously, R—

You Know Things Are Moving. You're Changing, You Fellow Dead Are Changing, The World Is Ready For Something Miraculous. What Are We Waiting For?

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