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happy halloween weekend
Ty, Tudey, Scootch, Base Fase, and Mario relocate just outside the city. Base Fase has a big-enough hole in the wall in the neighboring city for the bunch to hide out in till the heat dies. Fancytown on the other hand is awash in live protests, firework explosions on a non-holiday, street riots, riot police using tear gas to spread open the eyes of the protesters throwing rocks and stones, creating a hole wide open to let in their military, outside-the-city rabblerousers causing trouble, Lofton's police being the biggest instigators, all directed with technology by Lofton sitting on the futtock of his pirate ship.
so was he always there? or did he join them just then? my last friend, at college, debated this with me long into the chilly night on a campus road lit only by the moon Halloween eve after we watched the film for free cos we were cool viable registered actual students with discount cards. we had made it, only perks from here on out. exchanging our ice breath, we came to the conclusion that he was cooler than me. i had remembered my fall coat.
Lofton is quite efficient at cleaning up messes and making everything nasty go away. as soon as daylight strikes the tired smoke of Halloween night in Fancytown, any news of the shooting of Dry Dream is gone out of the mind of the city, like a dream, which is what Halloween is once a year. it was a nonstarter, it never happened, Dry officially became a number because it was just another unsolved shooting. neighbors dare not speak, snitches get stitches, especially the ones who witnessed it, cos eyewitness testimony is the most unrealiable as ironic as that seems. others more powerful and learned are quickly paid off in hush-hush rooms and the brighest smile in the room and the city always belongs to Lofton, he is brighter than the sun who peeks behind a cloud this day and radiates a disinfectant over the gory details of Fancytown.
i'm tired of this. and i'm tired. now i have no mode of transport. i'm stuck inside my house. like usual. the walls are closing in. where are the flying cars? i was promised flying cars...
incensed is not the word. the word is charged.
this one goes out to Chris Columbus, not the filmmaker, the other guy, the one who discovered that huge chunk of land everyone thought wasn't there after those other guys did, you were my main man for many years, nowadays you're increasingly becoming a controversial, polarizing figure, folks don't know if we should be celebrating you anymore, but at least for now, you're still giving us that day off of school and work, so if only for that i am eternally grateful. i don't work.
Dry: i'm tired. i'm so tired. tired all the time. i want to disappear. but i wouldn't know how to by myself.
memorable sex is not necessarily amazing sex, though amazing sex is certainly memorable---i heard this once whilst meditating, just popped into my head as the soles of my feet touched my cheeks...my face cheeks. i have kicked my own ass before, but that was something different.
Dry Dream: Fancytown, what an ironic name. everyone frontin' but we the same as everyone else.