I quit drinking in 2016!

Chicken Pat-tie sang-which datta SAMMICH!

They stole my SAMMICH!

Mitch, Mitch from the hospital, so long ago and years back, but getting back on track because I have A PHAT STACK of steak ’n’ cheese chunks in a soup of droopy loops, like a wet noodle was waddling to the store near the Cash-E-no being The Casino, owned by the injured injuns in some bloody battle of barbarians who went to the doctor and bar seeking relief from their broken bones, with stones, they threw stones at Jesus, and I’m not stoned, and not getting boned by the beautiful Breasteses swimsuit thongs on Baywatch, as the clock ticks and my heart PEAKS! TAKING A PEEP! AT ME TAKING A PEEK!@#$

And the clock ticks, space and time, “space and time” and God!

Jesus was a Prophet, and one of the many Sons of God who were born of only a mother, and that there have been many instances of this in “science” usually in The Middle-East overseas and they “needz” to get their heads checked, hopefully not traveling into my dear country, where I hope Biden is getting a lot of help from the younger crowd, and sing it loud, for here I go, oh yeah baby whoa where’d you go ???

I really like this song, Jessica Tocci and Carina Ricciardi would sing it loud for my pleased eardrums, and the word is my Mom’s and my Dad’s, the world will see that I stay here at “Averte” in Bradford, Vermont, 3 hours away from my parents who are my “Health Proxy” inspecting my Amazon and Nootropics Depot orders, where my mind has been ‘a’ hunny bunny with me thinking this TRUTH: I DON’T PLAN ON RAISING ANY KIDS! I HAVE A TBI! I have broken bones, a disability and a handicapped, that I’m tha-ank-ful for our U.S. government because I’ve always paid perfect taxes through Bill Mahoney, my Dad’s previous employee I want him to talk to me about my investments in the Stock Market in Bitcoin, Bitcoin Cash, Stellar, XRP, Dogecoin, Etherium, Ether, etc. etc. with my $120 or $140 in 2013 or 2014, for more we shall see what’s in the hut at the barber’s you get your hair cut, but what we do with my having been all over the net, God I have met, hours and hours, all night long, playing just one song “Deftones – Sex Tape”

Then switching to The Lord’s Prayer I had over 13,000+ plays of the free .mp3 on loveallpeople.org

Read by Rev. Bill McGinnis of a Christian church — PRAISE JESUS CHRIST! PRAISE ALLAH! PRAISE BUDDHA! PRAISE MOHAMMED!

For in the time of yore we have a bizarre couple of beige neighbors next-door,

A couple of a Holy Marriage where the Christian Minister or Priest approves of the two uniting, all-night-ing long night, G’NITE!

This heterosexual male-and-female couple own a hot tub with a grill that they cool, that they have a barbecue for weenies-on-the-grill in summer months, with a Guinness beer- I’ve had 1 last year on Christmas having gone to a Christian Service night before, as…

Regards,

Jezebel

ps- in Hell but then the bell rings and students fill the halls, wall to wall, well, a wishing well, like in the season of Easter, when all is well, Saved By The Bell!

Have an awful day if you’re spying on me! and I don’t know who visits my websites, but I think Saint John’s just got a riff like a ‘whiff” WITH TIPH! I want to hold hands and go for a long walk to lean up our legs, that thankfully because of a shoe-lift I don’t lean like italics have a slight “lean” to the left or right anymore with my shoes on, due to a shoe-lift of Sanctuary she sells by the see shore at this hour where candy is sour and I like to pick a sweet smelling buttercup you rub on your nose, everyone does that, and if you paid me to, $120 or $140 in Bitcoin, Etherium, etc. I have become a very rich man, who, unfortunately that person is YOU!

Bearing the badness of snacking with fatty foods like bread, have a protein shake instead of the bread, so bring the bacon- Low Carb and greasy the fats drip into an oil are in The Making of The Mask with some Kraft Mac ’n’ cheese oh please, don’t eat that it’s high in carbs, like the bun in an Arby’s, don’t eat the bread, the protein and fats will keep you full, and if you’re too lenient on your Diets, it’s gonna be impossible to take off the weight, so even joining a gym won’t reduce body-fat like a really strict diet will keep you lean, and trust me, by the ladies of America, I WANT TO BE SEEN!

Put this long fable on the table taped with Tantric tatters of tater tots and think of the city’s many lofts with Real Estate

Here’s your plate. The plate in my left hip. The real estate and the plate, fallen on the floor breaking into many, many, many pieces and maybe more in store!

Clouds galore, small and puffy in the morning, and when you’re driving to your Dad’s own company, be sure to find anticipation in the PERSPIRATION!

Little Fluffy Clouds on YouTube!

I’m alive, I’m alive, I’m alive, with severe double-double vision . . . and I’m straight with no thoughts of anal sex or oral sex with a man!

Kiss The Body of Christ, I remember with my tongue I would press the Church “wafer” and I’d sign a Waiver with Wives and a Weight-Lifting cashier at Wayfair nearby, and stay here stay near I want good things to happen and I’m not involving anyone else, but maybe I feel Jesus Christ coming through to me — with pretty crooked double-vision — I talked to a Minister in Niagara Falls American not Canadian and and and… she has been so much of an Inspiration to me, To Be Inspired TBI WRX WRXTBI.com http://www.wrxtbi.com http://www.jeffreymarquis.com http://www.alwayschillen.com

http://alwayschillen.blogspot.com and groove on growing your own Homegrown Marijuana in Maria’s grow room at home and within the lines of little itty-bitty pieces of the 100%-piece puzzle on a great movie that will give you anxiety if you see it on a big Television with audio wavelengths of Bass from separate speakers at the Commencement Speech of coaching those who don’t have a great way of talking to others, being ugly or whatever- OMG I am so hot with a PRIMO BODY BIG . . . I have good size in my chest and all over and that’s what is important to me!

DON’T YOU SEE ???

YOU READ ME !!!!!

Thanks.

In addition to “absolutely not a single nitty-gritty bit is left in your inheritance”, no Dad, please, I would call you “Daddy” but it’s kinda girly and not for me, don’t you see ??? YOU READ ME !!!!! Thanks. Hank takes a break. I just had a breakthrough through the breaking alright to eat your undie’s boxers as the deadline approaches for the officer to make me walk the line, like I’ve never had to do that, after my wrxtbi.com catastrophy TROPHY’S TROPHIES! I WANT MY INHERITANCE!

So go back from whence thee came, or summed, in a cummerbund all tacky talking wacky waking up late in the day, to the mentally inept souls here, spaccy speech and they lock up the bleach and Dish-soap, none of that here. They make sure it’s not near here or anywhere patients are allowed, and being on anti-anxiety’s plentifully pervasive in a perfect w/ Protection to meet the Gyno’s Inspection, with no men getting E WRX I SHUN PORNOGRAPHY OF OTHER RACES, I try not to look at the man’s faces — they never show POV faces…

Your kiss I miss, Justine and Justine who kissed my left hand and did me with her right, so tight, the rope — excuse me let me say that it’s not cool to be raped, or share a room with a dark-skinned overweight crazy bi-sexual deviant in a mental hospital I adore the Exit door in the rear-end saltbox women only!

The fat people with no disabilities or handicaps need to shape up, excusing the disabled and those with handicaps, toting GACK! Slime! Elijah was nice, I would talk to him a lot when he worked here, not sure where he is now at this Magic Hour when the original “Smarties” at the halloween parties in October before November, there’s a girl here named “Ember” and I don’t smoke cigarettes or cigars I’m considering maybe they get me Nicotine that is a brain stimulator with mad stimulation coming true with Ember being a stranger, not at all strange, though, she’s skinny with muscle and the hustle-’n’-bustle around the staff at “Averte” and don’t be mad at me for liking Islam, it’s just that I controlled Allah guiding him or “it” like a wasp in my head but not stinging me, not even trying to, attempting to ingrained in your brain with the Migrane take My-Dol for a one Dollar bill of our great group here in America, I’m easily seeing “Heaven/Hell” right now and no longer in an “Intermediary State” before “A Great Awakening” and I’m getting bigger and thinner from this legal powder that’s been around since the 1990’s called Alpha-GPC with Choline, a book written by my favorite author

And Mohammed, The Messenger too, Allah

With Tantric sex when I was abused shortly after I graduated from Saint John’s High School with Mr. John Deedy getting me high on pure speed and having penetration with my friend who will remain nameless and I’d rather not name him because he was raped that night and many nights after, for him only, I was abused once with my testicles being grabbed so I’d feel pain and I don’t like him!

That Tantric Delight, it happened once, all night til the sun rose, and I would buy her roses over our 2.5 year lovers-of-pleasure and kisses and oral-sex with much love making love ❤️ 

Feeling keen on staying lean, I now take Alpha-GPC that’s really helping my writing, I feel it coursing along the Corpus Collosum of the Pineal gland, that and staying lean…

What industry does the United States control? THE NEWS!

I trust CNN, letting it play all day, usually with an fun stay, at the White House THE GOVERNMENT PROBABLY HAS A TEAM OF USA-media experts editing footage and trying not to create the panic pin, a bloody syringe from the dope for me, NOPE!

I hope my ticker tick-tocks as much as I write, and talk, to the workers here who are near, giving me my pills I take all of my pills and get a shot of a med known as, “Haloperidol” for those who are lazy — and to anyone reading this heap of a stack of pancakes to eat on the sofa, so far, not at a bar, I don’t drink alcohol, or drive a UHaul, if you do “gear” or speed, there’s no need to give me any of that! I have CBD!

Maybe Jesus is the answer, my Minister swore he had cancer

Doctor! Doctor! Speedy Deedy I have never, ever called him except for a bunch of months after my Traumatic Brain Injury that maybe had his way with my friend, for him it was The End of Alex Kozlov from Blockbuster I saw him there once, and I went back once and saw him again but didn’t interact with him in the store, who, he talked to my Minister, who I who did I eye at the med counter window sliding glass window with the Dow buoyant but I don’t understand anything with “default” Deedy Done I want my SJ teacher to pay me out of his pocket, but there are 2 Mr. Deedy’s in Worcester right now! Chocolate milk from, how how brown cow?

They’re both brown and murky, Thanksgiving my Marquis-family is visiting me and we will go to an open restaurant and with this Alpha-GPC stimming with my grinning slimming slimy grimy rag that time. Don’t “do” anything but give open-container blowjobs with thoughts of swimming in the hot tub, doing laps in the hot tub, with a Time Machine zingo this is my lingo from the let-go and bow, you are a cow, in a psychedelic psych ward, Blessings looking after Blessed bracelets of let’s all gain access to Jeff’s French Bank that I guess my Dad cancelled or else their keeping their eyes shut closed really hard and your nose scrunches up, you feel the Twists in your Scrunchies… while I’m thinking beeping out the swears of the Closet Bears in croc’s at the county docks, in Lake Winnipesake in New Hampshire where I drive for an hour to see my high-up professional and rich, he’s been a hand and check on my excellent cognition with the cog in the wheel with a Dart-board with my own “Poetic Voice” The Poetic Voice it had it up on my dot-com that’s now http://www.alwayschillen.com and ready for something waiting with my insides being taken beyond to God and I reached beyond His real “Illusion” like a hologram! THIS IS NOT A SCAM! I HAD A RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE AND COMMON OF FELLOW MEMBERS OF SAINT JOHN’S CATHOLIC HIGH SCHOOL!

If Marilyn Monroe was alive today what would she be doing?

She’d be clawing at the lid of her coffin…

Getting to the wishing well, I’m wishing all of you my readers very well and I hope China doesn’t attack Taiwan, “like tears in rain”

I went to Saint John’s High School and sat at one of the “cool tables”

Fiddle fickle FINE flipping dipping prickle fickle pickle twinkle twinkle Think on the Bring Home The Bacon, frying pan of the land, be chance of the day for it is “2 day”, 2 days in 1 day, oh I could only dream about the anorexia that Charlie Sheen would show, on The Today Show on NBC, but not be cause I don’t dare care, which I really do, care, with all of my hair on my head, but this instead : how about if I only donate money to a church in Niagara Falls, now that I donated money to the funding of my deceased by suicide, so sad, that Cousin lad, he laid 2 ladies and they had his daughters he could rarely see, for Fentanyl was his Destiny, with all of the opiate garbage nonsense, getting a baggie with a rig but not a “Big Rig”, no, that wasn’t his favorite show, The Fix his favorite, not knowing the mothers of his daughters anymore, and he was Automotive not working at a Mall Store, with ages of his kids being a mystery, because don’t you see? I WANT TO BE FREE OF PARENTRY! I’ve got a brother, and he’s from another mother, Dana, into cannabus, so what’s the fuss? I have an expired “Legal”-MMJ card, I don’t smoke cannabinoids ever because I take the buds in my mouth, chew some, chew some more, and take a drink of Extra V. Olive Oil, because I have no desire for virgins ever! MYLF on websites with girly Delights, shining bright… all of the on-screen stage Lights!

Oh what I do most nights,

And I’m not getting in a single fight!

Here at “Averte” where I portray a clean image on your screen:

That’s my Dad he’s so Rad, he’s not bad at all when he’s fishing for Bass Fish with a drop jaw kiss!

Occasionally he eats the fine protein of the bass,

That sweet, sweet meat — of the fish, on a dish, that he will put in the sink, that my Mom drinks but only 1 small glass of wine, she does fine, my Mom isn’t mine, she’s all my Dad’s, and I have many speeding fines, 84 in a 65, I feel the rush of being alive, for I strive and seek The Bee-Hive its honeysuckle and I wear a belt-buckle your safety nets safely, this cracker white boy is “Wavy” said sad little Davey Perron, he had kids, and on his bottles of OxyContin he had lids… I donated money to my Mom so I could help his daughters when they grow up — put and deposit that in a Mutual Fund, just for fun, and surely profit, as inflation drives up prices, in pieces of a ripped-up hundred dollar Bill, are you reading this magic? THIS IS ALL AN “ACT” to screw with a man with the name “Allan” and I don’t think I know an “Allan” BUT I KNOW “ALLAH” VERY WELL BECAUSE HE FOLLOWS MY EVERY INSTRUCTION, AIDING MY ERECTION, WHEN I SAID: “JUSTINE, TAKE ME TO GOD!

Wouldn’t you know it He’s at the edge of space, for me, oh please, my soul feels at ease, when I feel the drift of a FADING FAINT FEELING with a Zing! and a Zap! This nonsensical pile of shitty writing is nothing but stinky crap, with a girl who tests negative of “The Clap” that goes around and cum’s around, without making a sound, so feel the feel with more than plenty of Zeal fresh bodysoap to have in the next hour, in the shower, with a stringy stream of water beads making a team! “GO TEAM JEFF!”

Crush and Ream, without the obscene!

Doctor! Doctor! Please repair my SPLEEN!

“Jeffrey I’m overwhelmed by your rights and rhyming words… for they are OBSCENE!

At the scene of the sight of the fight, just two LIGHTweights teasing baits, full of hate, as the match begins…

AND THE MUSCULAR MAN WINS!

Strength is a virtue…

and here’s a large tissue,

For that serious injury issue!

SRSLY I don’t want to be me, I want to be like Mr. Vesuvius in God’s universe, lasting on, with the never-ending song, by Journey this song “Don’t Stop Believin’” they played to my two sexy younger girlfriends in 8 East, and they were bare of their bodies and vaginal yeast, Carina, she was a beasted bestie with breasties, and breasts-ease so you, you kick back, take this as a treat, a snack, you’re got the “knack” of the McDonald’s Big Mac! My country, ATTACK!

NINE MONTHS since ours Capitol’s “The Insurrection”

I don’t want to see any girls become pregnant!

For note, for wait, was the timber all limber?

With a hunny-suckle from the female Gardener

Planting Pot-Fields of nefarious bud, MMJ you buy

I am no long that guy! THC is unseen!

WordPress http://www.jeffreymarquis.com here I come for some and for all, as a little girl throws down a doll, and picking up a Barbie

BBQ and Big Black Wife — tonight’s the night!

As day is day,

so what do you say?

The next textual hexed you all, taking a Free Fall – IN’ by Tom Petty, and the Miata on Betty!

Bakers pond drift

as the sand on the beach my Mom will sift,

with tiny specks I do push-up’s for my big Pecs

Been through a lot, so pull out (vagina) of this corrupt “Plot” against me or with me, I have decided to take you not, to the tanning salon, where playing in the room’s atmosphere is a new-age song, c’mere c’mere, that is: come along, to the ping-pong match with the ball is swerved, a car just surged, and sugar in the tank, a psycho fiancé is all to thank, for who could’a thunk, AM I A HUNK? My Unit Large as I have a bigger stringbean than the local Police Sarge

Was that fact? I am not sure, but I implore you all to gaze upon my size, the IGF-1 LR3 injection, my cock size it is a big surprise!

Sex at The Sole Proprietor?

Laurie Gee., please be with me!

Spatter the batter with your words, the window won’t shatter… Yes -bullet proof- webbed glass like your windshield winding down after a cruise around the whole town, ever gone exploring the roads unknown? When I had my Explorer I was quote-unquote “In the Zone”!

Steve Baum,

you are my “soccer mom”

driving me in the Transit Van

Our time together is a great “span”

Getting Averte’s petty cash,

I was Blessed by Priests in “Religion class”

Saint John’s High School, oh were the days,

Years later in 2018 I had “Purple Haze” oh those were the days!

Selank. Semax. Ventolin Inhaler of Inhaled mist, your mouthpiece I would kiss — with inhalations of Albuterol, ut oh, “Better Call Saul” a la Breaking Bad on TNT… Crystal is not for me, doing gay things without a care, my unit, I was bare, and with a near-40 year old, a “Bear” in the gay-sex community — oh it ruined me! And being teased caused me so much dis Ease driving my car, not maybe too far, I went too fast — the speed didn’t last, but that night with my teacher is in my past, I went SO FAST! And fasting on Ramadan the day seems so long, not eating, my “meat” I am “beating” !!!!! Or not for a bit — right now it wouldn’t feel Fit — My unit Justine Bit!

I went to the doctor to show him the bruise — in the the waiting room I was nervous and not enthused — but I felt so good, so happy, with much “enthusiasm” so SHOW YOURS! — when Justine slept over and everything was fine, and about her small period in my bottom sheets, I thought it was alright, it happened late at night — that vaginal bloody smegma — BROUGHT A SMILE TO MY FACE!  and did I Touch it???  no because it was not my place, but her being fertile, I didn’t pass the hurdle, I don’t want a child to raise being a bad father I did Tantric sex as I WANTED TO TAKE OUR LOVE FURTHER!

Knowing Allah but not really understanding it, I don’t fully experience Islam yet, but 3/5 through The Qur’an, I bet, so give me a hand!

This noble reading (The Qur’an) I pass through space and time to make a local phone call it used to cost A U.S. Dime! Do I make cents in a sensual manner? This is all nonsensical banter with the band playing strings as the Opera woman sings!

Flagrant Foul as the dog lets out a Howl, and How I do that? How do I do that?  I just put on my magical hat!

Because I’m not fat!

Not a fatso and the footrace I run, I go, not slow like the fatso, faggot, I am not, so skinny and straight there’s not much about myself that I hate!  I can’t think of a thing other than I don’t like to sing, or a song, with my teeth I take off a girl’s pink thong!

Come on!

God given :^D

Bow to I, the, me, the King with a Benjamin Bill

Jessica T. I have known and loved for 23 days you can read 20 pages of: https://alwayschillen.files.wordpress.com/2019/05/feed-me-your-jessica-and-carina-1.pdf

Pretty Princess in Pink, thankfully without the yeast and her unpleasant feminine odor of an egg-yolk Feast,
Listening to Judas Priest =)
So she does not Stink, but she sticks to the pesky Fly, and Strip her long dress, with we, and her female-ness the its monthly mess!

And along the way she only craves the graves of her ancestors, and her long-lost sister
Oh please, Mister, Mister, I missed her in the constellations of the Little Dipper with a sultry stripper
Of the paint, and this is what she ain’t — gonna spread her legs to the left and to the right… Tonight

French Royalty, I may be, making many Invested Investments in white shirts and big chests hoarding fortunes in savored Graces
And necklaces — the Jews and the jewelry at Kay’s Factory Warehouse, a trap catching the bloodshot eyes of a pink-eyed mouse
(remember? …2 in the Pink?) royal dress and sweats or thigh-highs to the highest heights of her bosoms,

Oh the tombs and stones… on the Royal Throne, she’s in the King’s proverbial “Zone” to hone
Crossbones cutting cut palaces albeit with Toe-sie “Callouses” in need of Dr. Scholls on them old Tombstones
And cometh quite frequently, the pink in the stink, it’s Absence-ey with the Maitre-de in a treehouse

The dead mouse coughed its last couple coughs., begging for life, maybe with a Lucy wife, it’s a male…
With a Delivery for you and me, we shall see, of a newborn baby Barbie  “oh what a Dali-Llama”

Want some more ‘ah’ this ??? As I makes a fist to cause a painful insurgence, intrudence Intruder
I am some amplitude of the tried ’n’ true with the favorite color being Pacific Ocean Blue
Balls in the halls of a Palace Audience of awful audacity — so Audacious the Pitbull Player of billiards- Pool

Gone to school, gone for the day learning of morsels in Toyota Tercels, like Mom had a red one, standard
In the armpits’ pit-stops and Go! To and Fro from Santa Claws with long nails scratches on backs,

Fools on Roofs on the tree-tops of houses, and roots on Daffodils, we have our fills of chocolate fillings
For the teeth I bequeath uneath’d eating a chicken patty, my special brain is all batty, with the batters up
Wearing a testicles’ ‘Cup” the catcher I will match her in softball, and shaved in the shower at this hour

Shoulders with straps, of the backpacks loaded with a snack, a Brunch, and a PB&J lunch atop a Tower
Of records and recordings, so tired after the court-date with a dead golden mate of the crash, tipsy Trashed
Take a taxi and stop at the mall to pee, to leak, for the hundredth time this week, oh the strength of my
Length at 7 inches, my nipples like your gentle pinches of Tulips surrounding the source of life, for my wife!

Poesy translation and masturbation — this writing, is my life !!!

“Reborn” writing!

Now that I’m no longer kidding myself with optimism, I’ve started to tear my life apart, analyzing where I am now and where I want to take myself. I’m certain that you’ve gathered how I was lying to myself, lying to myself about how I was glad I crashed my car, throwing my life off completely. I’m still holding onto a shard of the unmatched confidence when I tell you, especially where I am now, I hated where I was, and I’m thinking that I drove so fast and so liquored because I wanted (?) something to throw my life off balance. Getting back, I do like, no, no, love, love how I now see the world, but I’m banged up, and bad. I only hope that’s going to reach a favorable equilibrium, taking me to a successful and enjoyable “place,” where I’ll spend my days, once my condition becomes regular (it’s still bizarre to me) and I’m fully recovered.

I now, and only now, feel confident that where I’m going will be success.

I’m reborn, like this is a second chance, you know, like born again with how the people are able to speak of themselves from a different point-of-view. They’re able to judge the people they used to be, and in my case, an unmotivated slacker, but laziness and not having accomplished enough is all that I don’t like about the man I used to be. Please don’t think that I’m praising Allah, running away to Israel, and condemning myself for not having given enough to charity, please, I ain’t that guy. It’s like how I came home from Fairlawn for a day, saw how I’d been doing nothing, and thought, “This is all I was?”

I was in the hospital, but I also had a retreat, a retreat from most essential parts of a twenty-two year old’s life. I did a lot of, gay sounding, reflection and listening to the inner me. I was on a vacation from, basically, reality, and it spelled out all of what I wanted to return to. It also showed me how useless a lot of what I concerned myself with is, and will always be. Being that I bumped my head, and what seemed like a dream, it was a vacation from my own life. I remember when I was in the ICU, wearing a diaper, I would feign jerking off when a nurse wiped my ass. That’s a vacation from reality, and it showed me exactly what I wanted to get back to, plus what I should want in years to come. Call me basic, but I’m not going to drool over the finest surround sound receiver when I already have something that plays loud music. Call me basic, but I won’t get caught up in the details that simply don’t matter.

Looking back into my life, something like this needed to happen because I only envision the lethargy and drinking and aimlessness ending in heartbreak. Yes, something like this, something kicking my ass, was essential to give me this drive. I’ve told you how I’m not that regretful of my car crash, and I’m not because of a realization that I couldn’t have continued down that road much further. I sport a FAIR SHARE of brain damage, okay, but this path is going to serve me well with any endeavor. Still, I’m not sure how the memory will hold up in college classes, but my newfound desire of success and the willingness to push myself, those are there. If my productivity is any indication of my collegiate effort, I shouldn’t have much trouble. Easy for me to say now, but God forbid, I might not be able to hack it.

Where did my life go wrong? Good question and I believe the answer lies at Northeastern University. I became uptight in the city, nervously uptight, anxiety uptight, and I was soon squirming – get me outta here! – I came home, sleeping late, lazing, and unsure of where I’d take myself in years to come. Not to mention, not to mention, I gave my parents hell. I’m sorry. I was a timid, depressed, unmotivated wreck. You could say that I took the easy way out from NEU, but I can’t feel that.

I was a failure. I WAS a failure. I’m comfortable saying that because I don’t feel any of the same blah desire, that habit of nothing. I don’t feel good about acknowledging my former weak points, but I assure you, anything about me that needed work, well, it’s received the much-needed treatment. So much improvement that I don’t know how I was ever so weak. If you collect that as me being a different person, sure, go ahead, and it’s got me wondering.

Just as easily as you can say that November 2nd is the point where I’m, uh, nothing from here on out, I assert that, instead, this is the point where my life embarks the right track. It’s not that I was doing a lot of bad things, just a few, but I know exactly what I want out of life, and that uncertainty was my problem. I can spell out what I’m looking for TO THE T, and it’s exactly what I’ve been in need of. I was the type to play it by ear, relaxing while a lot passed by, but that’s done with. The hesitant piece of me died, and I believe it’s exactly what I need.

I’ve discovered a lot about who I really am, and I still notice new pieces of me, free of MTV’s censor. I continue to uncover personal characteristics, and maybe I’m a little more basic as a result of it, (re)brushing up against the things I’ve passed on, learning to write and how I’d like to create a painting, as paradigm. In the hospital, a lot of what I used to concern myself with didn’t matter anymore, and that tells me “just go with it” whenever something pops out, hence reexamining all that I’ve skipped over. I’m free of culture’s censor, and I’m discovering what I really want out of life. Armani is nice, but I’m not going to sacrifice what I would have, working weekends.

It is a bitchhhhhhh that I only see where I’d like to go now, now that my memory is flawed, my speech isn’t so eloquent, and my athletic ability is tainted. I had a lot of potential, okay, but there’s really no point in bugging me with the damaged-goods thinking. Although, I’m really not THAT banged up. I’m not in a wheelchair, blind or deaf. I’m nearly back to normal in every way, and I feel no shame, not excusing who I am. Life is changes, and taking the new essay direction of how I write as a lame indication of where I’m yearning to take my life, I’ll do well. I’m going to be fine, but I’ll always have the wonder of what I could have amounted to if I’d seen this earlier, if I weren’t so banged up.

I only hope that I’ll browse my JustChillen data from a Macintosh, heh, laptop in Aspen, Colorado, from the home of one of my readers, one of my fans, or from Mister Pentium’s couch. That fresh dream ticks around in my head, with you marveling, “Jeff has only led an amazing life since he bonked his brain.” I have the feeling that I’ll EITHER do something very special with my future, starting a disability (hockey helmet) company, writing a fine novel, or setting sail and shrimping, a la Forrest Gump, OR continuing down my forecasted and favorable path with my present interest in computers. I believe the effort to accomplish something special is there, just there, like how I rolled my eyes earlier watching my mom throw a hissy fit when a car clicked its left blinker, knowing I’d have complained too. Not now, not now – I’ve seen worse than anything you’ll ever experience (!!!), and that perspective tells me, uh, a lot, so much that I can’t spell it into words. I’ll live a pleasant life, just as fine as or hopefully finer than that of my contemporaries, crossing my fingers.

My creative spark resulting from a tragic car wreck goes to show that there’s really something to be said about the monster accidents in life, the occurrences that change everything and everything in your life. A lot of people say, Jeff you’re doing so well! I guess I am, dun dun dun at which this baseline effort is what I was born into, and hopefully carrying this strength into anything I do. This push is my standard. I heard that my rehabilitation would be quote-unquote, the most difficult thing I’ll ever do. It very well might be, but I don’t feel any of that tough love, being that it’s purely something I awoke to, still not understanding how I was previously able to be so lazy. I’m different in that sense. I’m not the same considering I’ve abandoned un-productivity.

I’ll take vision therapy for a while, who knows, for maybe a year, and I spoke up about how I worried that I might always have to wear prismed glasses. I was told the clinic had seen a lot of people with Traumatic Brain Injury, and about seven out of ten came away from the therapy free of spectacles. That’s reassuring, but also creepy, there’s a chance I’ll always be four-eyed, or, I guess they have contacts. I remember the tests I had, I answered usually five on the one-to-ten scale, meaning that my double vision was halfway bad.

I visited an advisor at Worcester State, and we talked about a special people approach to classes, untimed testing, tape recorders, note takers, you name it. I was sitting there with the advisor and my mother, answering questions about, umm, flaws. They suspected, and asked, if a noisy environment would buzzkill my thinking. Nope and speaking of which, I probably wouldn’t have gotten the braces if I were able to venture into the sweet feminine jungle, to a LOUD dance club. I’d actually like to go to a rave, serving sensory overload through repetition and packed people. I’ll eventually study full-time, hold a keep-busy job, and appear as a, you know, a normal college student, but I face this unworldly transition at moment.

If you ask me, I’m just getting by and simply living my life with the necessary effort. My dentist, he told me to quote-unquote keep up the good fight, my dentist, and that comes off, to me, as sickly juvenile, please. I’ve told you that I feel somehow reborn, naturally, with this do-gooder heart ticking away in my chest, pushing me forward. If my recovery is the hardest thing I’ll ever have to do, I smile because, meh, they didn’t even ask everything from me. In some (many?) respects, I’ve gone above what was expected; I remember my dad brought one of my dumbbells into Fairlawn, how nice, for curls to bring back some muscle. I had Physical Therapy each day, but there I was, in the gym with that weight each night, improving myself when I could have been lazing around in the bed, watching television. None of that, and I’ll hold onto a piece of overcompensation until I die.

That doesn’t change the fact of how it’s very, very, and very UNSETTLING for everything in my life to have changed, just like that. My vision, my voice, and pretty much anything you can think of is now somehow different. The way I view the world is different, yes, so much as the interpretation of existence has changed. Again, it might not be, and probably isn’t, reflected in my palling around behavior, but absolutely nothing feels the same as it had in past years. I do like most variations (heh upgrades), but it doesn’t change the fact that my accident occurred nearly a year ago and I’m still not accustomed to my hopes. Frankly, I love, love, love most of me, but you can imagine the stress I face for, uh, my living to have changed.

I’m at an amazing time in my life, the time of my life. Maybe there’s an event that you believe has shaped you, causing you to become the man or woman you’ll die as. I’ve got a friend, hi Steve, taking a leap to living in France, and that’s exactly what I’m talking about, where everything in your life changes. I was talking with a woman I’ve known, I won’t say who, but her life is exactly the same as it was one year ago, and that’s tragic. I’ve had everything in my life jumbled, and it’s simply AMAZING for me to experience, not like it’s a bad thing, you know, I’m fond of where I am. Oh, by ‘amazing’ I mean it as remarkable because, well, think about it.

You can imagine the stress in knowing that I just can’t do some things, some fairly common activities, like I won’t fare well in some sports, I’m just not, okay, I’ve accepted it. I’m working on my running right now, and that’s eating away at me because, uh, something so basic as how I run isn’t conforming to proper form. That and I’m not going to be a salesman, I’m just not going to be able to arrange any sales if my speaking doesn’t fullyyy return. I’ve accepted that I’ll have a few funny little quirks, and I’m making the effort of accomplishing enough to mask any peculiarities.

You, you’re probably thinking – he’s not in school, and I know I’d read, write, and exercise if I had the time – Nah, you wouldn’t, you wouldn’t. You wouldn’t do what I am if you were able to stay home all day. You, you’d be sleeping late, getting fat, and watching too much television. Me, getting to the gym every other day is a lovely bonus, and not only do I read a lot, but I read about writing, which I then practice! Call it overcompensating, but I’m out to make you look bad. It doesn’t change the fact that I’ve got brain damage, but it does say something about the type of human I am.

Someone commented to me via Instant Message that I’m his hero (ha), and I replied with a kissy face because I don’t see anything fantastically difficult in what I handle. I just do it, then maybe write about it, ha. Therapy and returning to normal life are simply the things I have to accomplish, and I don’t see anything mountainous in living well. I have hit bottom, and I know precisely what I’m made of because I’ve been on a flesh-and-bones level. I have hit bottom, and this is who I am!

I’ve seen every episode of Breaking Bad because I was drugged soon after high school by my English teacher with speed I swallowed his ‘seed’ he tricked me into gay sex with no protection!!!

Dancing with ALLAH and Lance of living strong from the store’s Mannie paid-purchases as per the many secrets kept up, keep up with CATCH UP! DON’T ATTACK MY DEAR HOMELAND of “Houston we have we landed?” And upon the Disbanded in a caught-neck Necking Naked just out the shower of my Eating at Joe’s in this unearthly deposit of cold hard “Cash” and “Bitcoin Cash” my stocks that I believe I have 616 Bitcoins and I read long article about Bitcoins of clothing with the moaning malevolent violence with a 17 year old I wouldn’t say a word to, or to touch, maybe I was 17 when I pulled my Valentine’s Day Card to the piano player but not Debbie or Deborah…

Here at Avere in Bradford, VT

Tiphle Trinket Tantric Terrific Tangle of Toes in the Bose WAVE HI ALLAH!

Whether whither, with whitening toothpaste tantalizing teeth in a tantrum of Tantric lick lick lick-  this is making me feel sick, with a large member, in December, I want to be friends with her here ::: Ember

Skinny smooth always with a pleasant mood, so sweet, to swoon, I’m eating ice cream with a spoon and gazing upon The Moon

Trips to space, taking place, as per the SpaceX capsules, and my pills, what I order on Amazon-  I pay the bills

Scenery obscene, have you seen? THE EARTH FROM AFAR  and like how lately I haven’t been to a single bar, in two or three years, as I cheer without any beer, I called my Dad Papa Bear, the non-drinker like me, and Mom, we’ll see…

Pithy sperm when I’m so worn a la TBI and corrupt settings at “Averte” the fucking hospital/home they give me all of my pills, and I hope the jerks here catch Coronavirus and become ILL

WHO STOLE MY SPERM ???

Allyson and Tiffany have babies!  Are the kids mine?  Did they have abortions?

SMART, by chance, The Matrix, all that is Holy, and Molly the drug, I want something more than the Xanax to make me kick and scream, “Don’t let anyone do anything to me!”

I hate my enemies, while loving Justine Aragona my one true love thus far in my life at 39 years old and Justine’s in her 30’s now

Be my love to inherit a crown with Prince Bullery all blurry of a burglary at a nearby location, apropos tangible Melanin with benefits of a sexual nature, I’m a creature and here’s my Feature: CRYPTO-CURRENCY BILLIONAIRE, through therapies I’ve been repaired but not fully Bullery static was sweeping the nation of Bernie’s chimney with Chipmunks at Chippendale’s I bought her jewelry at KAY’S not Zales with monumental monuments giving SALES! SALES! SALES! Independent sweatshirt hoodie on DAD tipping scales at a proper number of days I’ll be in prison drinking poison to ease the pay of being held back by all, except my negroe Justine Aragona, who I would take to the Mall, that she was short- not tall, on a Fall day call MAYDAY or say maybe I’ll always be afar, from home, I’m in the Zone and hopefully never going to prison because I “have the thoughts ta see ya!”

Are my Mom and Dad bringing the police tomorrow (today, now) I wonder and I want some of dat he’s schmokin Dana and Tim before Saint John’s High School, I was a tool and I’ll show you my hammer that I just wanna “nail some girls” in the world where I continue to exhibit my biceps with a Polo shirt now I threw up a protein shake on, it’s a go and my enemies call for a no-show you my huge calves, seen them? See Ya!

Bequilted the Grace of a bank-bang gangbang! IT’S MOTHERFUCKING LAURIE!!!!!

I never had sex with her but once I grabbed her ass and she simply said to me in a POLICE polite tone that made me groan, “I’m too worn for you” and here’s a warning to all the motherfuckers out there spying on me:  My Facebook account is up and running working those thighs as my thighs are very small, t swear they haven’t been exercised for years in rears at the local neighborhood Yard Sale, and Rip stay in the yard on your line and retrieve (GOLD) golden retriever on the receiver returned in the Mall from the Bank store, and who’sey banging’ on my bank of the door to reinstore my account of the insane vision-therapist for my TBI double- vision, double-vision,. Vision. Vision. (OH THE VISIONS OF “GODS’es GIFT A PARYGIRL KILL AT THE GUNRANGE WITH A Range Rover PARKED OUT FRONT, AND CHUBBY GIRLS HAVE “A BUNT” AT BAT THE CATCHER ON A CATHETER IN A CATHOLIC HIGH SCHOOL BASEBALL SWING BATTA-BATTA AS THE CAKE POTION SPLATTERS ALL OVER THIS POST I HOST THE MOST, of temperature reading… a hart rate- that Pretty Bret Hart in the WWF foundation at Saint John’s is where I ran XC, Emily C. Bought me a fantasy feast at The Sole in Worcester, MA, where E.C. ran a race on Ecstasy… so enjoy your stay while I pray The Lord’s Prayer that rises ALL RISE! In the air where I deeply care, my wounds, caused by my relatives of the G-family with excessive (force) Tubes to Tribute to the deaf mute on a TV button as per the Master Controller with MerchantCash the type of a stomach tube making my belly protrude, for the faint Brett Farve of a Fancy Fantasy Feast at Fentanyl addict’s warehouse with a trap catching a mouse, in the house, downtown the street from me and writing long sentences is my realistic fantasy! ALLAH BLEW UP THE SOLAR SYSTEM ONCE I WAS BEYOND IT, or maybe it was my US Government testing anabolic testosterone in A.K.’s “zone” where he would do squats on The Throne the toilet merely as I wonder about an incoming mail-order bride of little pride and no success, but he’ll buy her a bright white dress, thin as a pin, demonstrating a never-happening infection on her skin, coming from within, with her doing it so easily I say oh pleasey, the concubine are committing Heresy,  As per the sense of my ten cents all accorded across from the unused unusual for that time of the month to never happen ago, as my money will contribute to my Justine’s Aragona Dad who is rich and doesn’t need the money, I don’t think, but he was a HELPING HAND in my now-Abstinence of American Senators all showing up for work with a hangover see-saw jumble of jumping on a mattress and Matt rests, in NYC where all the crooks be performing tainted revelations into their Velvet Revolver music group full of shit to be hit by a drunken bar inhabitant incubated in an egg-shell embryo of “Ember” here I want to sleep with her as she’s a woman and not a MOTHER TO GOD! ::: this just in, this is just in my brother from a beautiful, crisp mother who can shed all of her tears with the lawnmower in the shed of my bed in the backyard or gee I took it too far, from afar, in a distant fairy-land of Fairlawn Rehabilitation Hospital by choice and luck — as per the fucks… who almost TRULY KILLED ME IN 2004 the past years of previous time impervious to the POV I see, bringing me Tranquility out of the trauma in my wallet with the arrested be the fucking bitch, Rick James, and a out-of-business Pop Warner Football to get footloose in a hot-jazz booth at the local strip-show refinery it is not okay to arrest me, I’m Jeffrey and I do this for fun in the buns of a beautiful bride who goes to the gym and only using the Cardio equipment in a B.U.M. hoodie at the gym and forgoing the stale ale and Gin of juicy bootie shorts for the girls I’ve never yet laced their Ecstasy with ashes from a Chimney belching exhaust exhausted from the tailpipes with shiny Tips for Tiph Desrosiers who has that tattoo I disapprove of, as Nate can’t be late on his man-straight man-star database taking place in where else but space — I decline to comment what I went through while those many hours with Justine’s anal flowers, it lasted about 7 hours because I HAVE POWERS! Watch what I did with “crypto” to make me a Bull to chew on asses with my double-vision glasses, this is the craft, my craft, that’s what I learned from many English classes at WSU, during which time. I swooned Manny she endured a stroke in a storm of Geographical regions Stellar (I invested in) in size and length (are you still reading?) I’m pleading INNOCENT! =D

Pity ’tis a fool!

Whimsical with tremendous amounts accumulating so late, too late, of Delerium Tremens from the junkies who can’t get their fix of drugs like the Dead Fools hooked on opiates, too late, they met their fate — trading the TEMPORARY drug-induced joy for an eternity in Hell for killing themselves, WHEN I HAVE NO TEMPTATION TO HURT MYSELF OR ANY OTHERS, not throwing punches, not yelling, I’m “cool, calm, and collected” according to my Mom who met my English teacher Mr. John Deedy at parent-teacher conferences at Saint John’s Catholic, Private High School, and I don’t find it amusing in the least of when this John Deedy raped my penis and my anus and my mouth shortly after I graduated from the SJ High School, from where he has been fired, so he is retired, maybe working a lowly job to afford him the gay sex drugs he was addicted to, sometimes teaching his classes with a hint of methamphetamine in his coffee he’d drink, like once Mrs. Bouvier came into the class and took a sip of his coffee, maybe to test the taste, seeing if it was adulterated with his drugs, and not only that but he would wear cock-rings to school, teaching with them on, and having both nipples pierced, his anal rape of me in 2001 or 2002 left me in pieces!

And when all of these evil fucks wanted me to total my car, after they put me under such extreme pressure to drink when I was so sad, my parents said “You can’t live at home anymore and you have to get a full-time job somewhere,” quitting college, when I had to withdraw from Calculus I that day when I WAS “SET-UP” that many people told me in the morning when I was in bed, “You’re going to have to kill yourself!”