Pummelled. Antsy. Immobilized. Nightmarish.

P.A.I.N. welcomes you to its anonymous support group. Just you and it. Oh crud. That’s it.

Then you give it your attention.

You listen.

You cannot wait to leave.

How many steps is the P.A.I.N. group? Twelve?
C’mon, now!
You are supporting your pain.

Yes… YOU are the sponser. NOT the recipient of help.
You must listen to your…

Pain.

1 step?
1000 steps?
What is the difference?
1 day of pain?
1000 days of pain?
Living day-to-day is different that “1 day at a Time”, now, huh?

Oh, am I talking about A.A., now? No. I am talking about anonymous pain.

[Pain, see Pain-Anon]:

File A:

Andrew Ray Giesbrecht,
DOB 04/10/74

Lab test + for Hypogammaglobunemia in ’81,
Lab test + for both Hereditary Angioedema type I in 2007,
Both diseases reconfirmed in 2013,
A third condition dx in 2009- plantar fibromatosis

First pronounced HAE-attack:
1990

Patient reports:

“I know now that the pain I felt was muscle tearing inside my abdomen, but because of neuropathic physiology… I felt it in my shoulders and it is comparable only to a sulfuric acid burn. I have had one… of those.

    My reaction as a 15 year old was to assume I was near hell by being in it. Hell as from Biblical concept. The description in scripture is sulphuric burn in the book of Revelation.

        Despite what one may interpret the Bibles many pages to mean, I find grounding in that my experience was so mind-blowing that I still learn after 40 years of experience (now I remember “fetal” sized attacks at age 4, speculate my gestation was equally as unpleasant as my existance at age 40, yet I reserve that perhaps a way was made for me to endure fear… and in the respect of “need to fear” all men are formed in an equality.

     I have an existential string-theory that has been a pain in my gut instinct to write. I will document and explain the entire universe of existance, love, evil, hate, crime, economics, language transliteration and “the ethics on teaching ethics to monkey-bait” for $1000/hr. Or free if I know you IRL if I feel like it… I’d even tell you my favorite translation of the Bible. No extra charge.

    But seriously, my favorite question is “who are YOU?”, because I can best see my prison cell in your eyes’ reflection. And when people say, “Know Thyself”, personally I laugh and see a grave like Bill Bixby did on the show Incredible Hulk. I died before I was born, perhaps.

     And yet here I am. Maniacs preaching on a hell that is “spiritual death” are fascinating to me. I could always feel their fear because I overcame it. And you could look and SEE who is talking now. I am dead. Jesus lives inside me.

      How long has it been this way? He has me.”

Abruptly he leaves the medical interview and a doctor writes a “party foul” ticket for being a borderline personality patient. But the RN dude smiles and says,

image

“I wish everyone had a medical advocate like he has in him.”

boo yahhh… thanks, Sonny

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Day Day

Days double
Double day
Psyched out?
Its okay
It is okay on your “double day”
Double the day…
Don’t laugh-
No, its okay,
Because I was just thinking
About “double your pleasure”
And “double your fun”
The 1980s jingle.
For Freedent gum.
Now, I have upper dentures…
Since before I was 40.
I AM 40.
See the fallacy
In English there??
“Since before I was 40” is said
to refer to 40 as an
Exact number, but time is not EXACTED!
English AND math are wrong!
Double subject
Double the pun

Oh- are you leaving
Why don’t you just
Stay awhile and
We could chat-
No I am dis-
Appering,
Away &
way &
ay &
y &
&
&

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y
ey
Hey!

   Hi, there. I’m back. I apologize for any confusion. Next paragraph, please.

  My name is Andrew. But you can just call me Awesome. That was something back there. I went off the page, you saw my S.O.S. and brought me back. I appreciate that.

|Z|2014| Interdimensional Brainspaz Writer’s Ass[ ] & Sleepless Knights Ltd.

(proof > ) [.]

Syntaxsinner.wordpress.com

Okay
Okayyy

I write Syntaxsinner.wordpress.com

But…
Its my Vermillion Red soul…
Not my DEEP Sea syvyss BLUE soul

I am comfortable with my disintegrated multiple personalities being separate but harmonious…

I am asexually my own Sponge Bob.
Splooling out
Copies of myself…

|z|

|Zaphanathpaneah|… because sometimes you wanna die…
Why not just divide??…

Posted from WordPress for Android

Syntaxsinner@wordpress.com

That Syntaxsinner… he is a mad scientist who used to live in the back yard of MY mind. Then he ran away.

He owes me rent.
As far as I’m concerned… he can go “blog” himself… he is anyway.

He never calls to thank me.
Man!
W/e.

|Z| Zaphanathpaneah…      …17 degrees of seperation… from |§|

Posted from WordPress for Android

Tell Me How To Get To Love Street

image

You wake up tired
You’re not so tired
Under the sheet from me
I blow on your hair
Like an annoying prick
I lick your ear
You say, “No! Eww!”
But I know girl, that YOU know
You know why I’ve trained you

You are my unmelting popsicle
What’s this?
Purple panties?
They look good… on the floor
I feel sweaty
Sticky
Its hot!
I never learn
I’m a man whore

Hey, that purple material
Looks nice on your ankles
I wish I could tie it
But your feeeet?
They need to have a vacation
From eachother

No-
Don’t answer the phone
Fuck.
No.
Who is it?
Brenda??
Your friend Brenda just called
To complain
You’re back?
I’m not in the mood
Why the hell the phone gotta ring?
Its MY bedroom too…
I just wanted to bang you softly
Now I’m sad
You’d rather talk to your friend

No
Nuh uh
You want to rub my back?
Okay
I’m going to get a 9am beer to relax
Okay I’m back

Oh that feels sooo good
So sooo damn good
Oh baby you smell good
You what?
Ah shaddup! Heh heh. You don’t
You don’t need a shower
Ooo I like your soft breasts
Brushing my back
Its like I’m your prison bitch
And your boobs are bangin’ me

Mmm. Your hair smells good
Why you gotta say you didn’t
Didn’t wash it?
You make me feel dirty and…
What do I do?
I’m just going to have to flip you
Flip you over
And whippity diddle DO you
And you’re gonna have to like it

And we’re not going anywhere
So you’re just going to like it
This should only take, mmmm
An hour or two
I’m tired and
I feel lazy and
I wanna make sure I knock over
All
Of your dominos
If’n
Ya get it

What what?
You didn’t hear me?
On your back
Tell me if you’re comfortable
Every step o’ the way, Breakfast!

Yeah I did
I called you “Breakfast”
Now I’m going to eatcha up
Ooo- look at these legs

Meaty…
Smooth…

Tasty

You are

How To Survive Falling Through the Ice In The Arctic

      Okay… you don’t want to be walking on thin ice, but it happens to Inuit hunters in their lifetime. One man in his seventies said he was saved because he wore cariboo skin. Each item of clothing has a name, but really all one wears is a hoodie, pants and boots of skin. Synthetic materials won’t do for this scenario.

      So, I don’t know how he got out of the water. You would have to do that quickly. West of the Inuit territory of Nunavut, in the Yukon territory, a friend of mine said he pulled over and simply dipped his head into the water for whatever silly reason, and lightning shocks pounded his head because it was SO COLD. He jerked his head right back out of the water.

      I suppose the cold still water would cause you to electrocute yourself biofunctionally and quite literally to force you to take creative action to get out. Assuming you DO get out and don’t die in the water, you will be laying on the stable ice in clothing maybe 30 miles from home and anyone else. You would be lying down a bit exhausted in clothing drenched in freezing water.

      No one could help you because who carries spare clothes when they hunt so often. You would have to take off all your clothes, turn them inside out and wait, completely exposed, but its cold air- not cold water. Then, when the water that soaked the inside of the suit FREEZES, you crack in with your hands, turn the suit right-side-in and put it on. Are you taking notes, SEAL Team Six? Because if you were at war in the arctic, you would have to do that, redress and warm up.

      Up there in the territories, it is not a war though. Its more like an eternity of a no man’s land. Doubtful anyone reading this is planning a trip. But if you do go out there, the Inuit elder hunter says its a good idea to know how to sew too. Which is another way of saying “take a needle to where the needle takes ya!”

The Tree Demons Of Ichthylyrop

      
      Once upon a time, there were a bunch of demons in a tree. They lived in a huge tree and were blue with pierced ears and they flew on dragons. The tree was really, really big and was blown to shit by heartless human who have no respect for nature. But the blue demons had to die.

        The blue demons called themselves “Avatadar”, which is a name of a human laxative in the 24th century. So we just call them demons. One day a blue demon came out with flowers, apparently to make peace. He said:

      “Tuyvh vhi gerty bhu nkop cgollipokokoky fighit andi killi alliyou whena yur not lookina yes for shuri!”

      Well I guess we misunderstood so we made friends, but as soon as we looked away, everyone but myself was beheaded. I started laughing. Then I ran away. Far away. But they chased me. And now as I am running I am recording this story- lest I have lived (on an alien planet full of wackos) completely in vain.

Body Of Space 6

     The next episode was supposed to be episode #3. Then #4 and #5. But those well all erased in the hollow giant tree of cheese-making demons. The whereabouts of the previous characters are unknown. I am Klarg, an alien with 3 legs and 3 butt cheeks.

    I have other things to now such as smoke Jupiterean mushrooms and run around triple-butt-ass naked. Besides, the tree demons look like they want to kill me pretty soon and I

      (End of transmission)

Body Of Space II

   So to recap, Van and myself (Zoo) had found our twins from another dimension and crossed over by a stealthy plan made by my twin, who I call “Zoo 2”. He seems to be “okay” with that, but he calls ME “Zoo #2” then “Zoo B”.

It became confusing for the transmorphing aliens, because they go by “12am” and so on, as there are 24 of THEM. 

     The last we saw, Van, he merged with his twin by bumping into him, but it turns out Van was a total closet narcissist and in love with himself. Once he found his “lost love”- himself, his molecules collapsed on himself and he became literally self absorbed to the Nth degree and, well, he died enraptured in passion.

Its just as well. I was getting tired of his need for a mirror in every room and his insistance on calling every day “Van Day”. So Van died on Van-Day 18,997 and his energy was absorbed into the electro-intercom system where he now selflessly speaks to us from time to time.

Body Of Space

       In the depth of deep space near the biosphere system, Dr. Van and I, Dr. Zoo were in an autopiloted probe on the fringe of the universe. Dr. Van and I are clones formed by parthenogenesis in the biosphere lab Century. Parthenogenesian clones were given nominal “human rights”. We are all called “Doctor” not by education but by virtue of being in the exact likeness of Dr. Zinn of the 21st century considered to be the healthiest and most intelligent man alive, living to 160 years 11 months and two days.

       Dr. Zinn spent the remainder of his years in a hyper-oxygenated zero-gravity chamber on the ship Galactic in a moon orbit around Europa of Jupiter. The Galactic was so self sustaining- and huge- it became a mother station to ships leaving the galaxy. There ships would dock and primarily load up with hyper-procreative hutu plants whose seed were found and farmed on Mars. This is where the Century left 800 Earth years ago and was sent into hyperspace by Zinn-travel, a travel that alters time and causes crafts traveling unde the speed of light to accumalate achieved distances by creating near-absolute vacuous space by manipulating space particles to disintegrate.

       While disintergrating matter space becomes highly relative. The first few ships would move 100 meters then stop. Half the time the taxis would explode. The Century, however, would travel 1,000,000,000 light years in a second. It was first to arrive in the biosphere system, finding hundreds of ships manned by clones such as myself. One such ship, Viejo Maximus took 90 Earth age years, Earth age measuring the experience of time by the crew. Although they all physically arrived in seconds or minutes, the crew aged according to the 22nd law of processes. There at age 123, Dr. Zinn’s 12th generation clone Dr. Vale and his crew had gone mad for about 24 years then actually regained their sanity and began an autonomous mission, turning a moon into a livable planet. I am 20th generation. That world was called Nexus and by the time we arrived, the planet had 56,000,000+ persons having formed small nations with three distinct languages, 40 religions- 4 of which were state-accepted and the planet was also in a state of war worldwide.

      Upon our arrival these things were discovered and protocol was unsure. So we sent a probe back verifying the formula for arriving safely. The Masters sent back a battleship in about two minutes. We saw it coming, slowing down. It made no communication with us. It turned and dropped a probe that came to the Century’s dock. Dr. Van boarded and immediately entered our control room.

      “Get us out of here!”, yelled Van. “Dr. Zoo, arm all torpedos.” There were no questions. “Launch HALF reserves at that battleship. They will assume the Century blew up too. That battleship is here to kill us ALL and start over!”

      We launched torpedos as the battleship launched seismic nukes. Every nuke was detonated by the slow battleship which was destroyed in its own nuclear warheads destruction. I mean “incinerated” really, with its staff of 7000. Except, one probe was shot to alert Earth’s Masters, but it was set off a fraction of degree. And one nuke hit the planet on an uninhabited section of planet Nexus.

       No further probes were sent. We did not know it, but the Masters who intended to kill us all illegally according to the Caucas Charter, declared our zone “condemned” due to nuclear waste. We found a way that year to sweep the nuclear problem in surrounding space and on Nexus.

      And now, 16 years later, Van and I having removed our “honorable doctoral” status were in a probe. Like I said, on the edge of space. We were looking at a mirror image of our own ship. Only it wasn’t a mirror. The ship was our actual ship. So we connected our ships at the side docks. Meeting us at the dock the doors opened. Standing their in white uniforms (we wore orange) we stood toe to toe making the same physical movents as in a mirror.

      Van 2 & Zoo 2 (I’ll call them) spoke. We spoke whatever they said, but it was not our thoughts. Zoo 2 said, “You are in an actual nexus boundanry.” We would take you in, but everytime you try to enter you copy us and be blocked. You have twice our fuel. So dump half of yours and you can push our ship back in to our space if you want to see our space. We know all about yours, so you don’t need to bring us over THERE.”

     It was getting wearisome to have both of us talk. I left the dock. Van agreed we’d cross over the nexus. I looked over my shoulder and stopped. Zoo 2 and I both laughed. Then I farted. “Like I said”, we both laughed, “WE are low on gas.” Realized only I farted. “This will work!”, we said. I emptied the fuel halfway and Van piloted the ship into the nexus and through.

      Once through we crossed over found Zoo 2 and Van 2… and 12 shape-shifting aliens. Behind us followed ANOTHER 12 shape-shifters that we previously knew nothing of. None of the 4 of us knew. “We are the 24 hours”, said Hourling 24. Van touched his clone and merged with him into one humanoid. Myself and Zoo 2 jumped away from eachother. This was strange.

      Then Van disappeared slowly. He was completely calm. What was going on???