WellShit he thought thered be something on the page when he opened to it

paper usually couldnt avoid the indignity of his scribbling 

                                                             particularly if it preferred black ink to red nibs to ball point

him itd always be ball point 

                               it wasnt that he wasnt fond of nibs and fresh ink but he spent five years in mechanical and architectural drawing  prejudiced for righthanders and instructors who wouldnt abide him when he flipped his board and T-Square to the right the room had to be uniform hed have to conform 

                                                                                     Cocksuckers  he was lefthanded

naturally he was a nonconformist

Not in my classroom, boy.

Boy   Boy being lefthanded he was the classroom nigger 

                                                             however when push came to shove they figuratively had to suck his cock none of the righthanded clowns in his drafting classes were sharper than he 

                                                                                                 which may have been inspired by him having to be surgical with nibs and ink taking great care not to smear what he just printed 

Hell must have Pains like that

 

he had an inklingHA of something going off in his head neurons sensingtingling  he was going to give it a moment

see if he had to duck shards of skullbone

 

 

WellShit 

        

             he thought he was more agile

he took a sliver just above his eyeball and like an icepick in the skilled hand of a lobotomist his lobe was shivered

he was pithed

he had nothing 

I got nothing

Nothing

Who was he writing 

Whas writing                               

 

the page was empty 

 

1038,  Monday,  29  3. 21

1328,  Twosday,  30  3. 21