Where I am

[Don Coyote]

I've been having a lot of sideways times.

Sometimes I got my points plotted, but then some jackhole spills jack all over my map.
Sometimes I got a solid azimuth but then some jackhole peels a magnet from my cover.
Sometimes I got 8 digits but half the digits are letters or flavors.

I got a fresh box of squares and
I got a fresh box of batteries and
I got a fresh box of bullets and
I got a fresh box of rippits and
I got a fresh box of honeybuns but

Then the sky turns orange and
Smells of diesel
Hydraulic fluid
Cutting oils

The t-walls shake

That's not rain but

Then it's rain

I can see where, but can I truly know?
Do I need roads?
Do I need eyes?

I am from the desert.
But the deserts all bleed together.

I look out at the sky.
The flat flat flat white-gray sky.

It's so white it hurts.
It threatens rain, but never rains in my desert.

I look out at the turf.
The ground is green, then yellow, then brown.

They said I was smart.
They said I was well-spoken.
They said I was going places.

They just never said where, or how.

They all assumed I'd know where and how I'd get where I should go.

I can see where I've been.
I can see how I got here.
I still don't know where I am.

I went from one desert
To the desert of the city
(At least it had a beach and solid steel sky)
To the sticky version of the desert the wrong coast has
To a desert I couldn't go out to touch
A timeshare desert
Held in abeyance by t-walls

But here it's cold
and
dank
and
dreary
and the grass never stops growing even though grass and dank and cold and drear don't belong in the desert.

Inside it's still the 80s and 90s
Outside it flips from the 50s to the 60s to the wrong future

[Mesozoic Mister Nigel]

Coyote, I think you just broke my heart.

[Junkenstein]

I'm in 5 different cities to talking about and running 6 different jobs with 7 different people all of which must know anything about the others. Though sheer force of will and no small number of highly simple and creative lies I am often in all these places and have been for around 18 weeks. 

Where am I? I'm compartmentalised to fuck and pretty sure I can't say more due to an NDA with some fucker at this point.

Don't try and ask me how I got here, I can't stop laughing to answer.

[Doktor Howl]

I've been having a lot of sideways times.

Sometimes I got my points plotted, but then some jackhole spills jack all over my map.
Sometimes I got a solid azimuth but then some jackhole peels a magnet from my cover.
Sometimes I got 8 digits but half the digits are letters or flavors.

I got a fresh box of squares and
I got a fresh box of batteries and
I got a fresh box of bullets and
I got a fresh box of rippits and
I got a fresh box of honeybuns but

Then the sky turns orange and
Smells of diesel
Hydraulic fluid
Cutting oils

The t-walls shake

That's not rain but

Then it's rain

I can see where, but can I truly know?
Do I need roads?
Do I need eyes?

I am from the desert.
But the deserts all bleed together.

I look out at the sky.
The flat flat flat white-gray sky.

It's so white it hurts.
It threatens rain, but never rains in my desert.

I look out at the turf.
The ground is green, then yellow, then brown.

They said I was smart.
They said I was well-spoken.
They said I was going places.

They just never said where, or how.

They all assumed I'd know where and how I'd get where I should go.

I can see where I've been.
I can see how I got here.
I still don't know where I am.

I went from one desert
To the desert of the city
(At least it had a beach and solid steel sky)
To the sticky version of the desert the wrong coast has
To a desert I couldn't go out to touch
A timeshare desert
Held in abeyance by t-walls

But here it's cold
and
dank
and
dreary
and the grass never stops growing even though grass and dank and cold and drear don't belong in the desert.

Inside it's still the 80s and 90s
Outside it flips from the 50s to the 60s to the wrong future

You sound like a grunt.  Good stuff.

[Doktor Howl]

I was an angry kid and I'm still here an angry adult but the anger is humor now unless it escapes me. I wasn't picked on much but sometimes I was the aggressor and I'm ashamed of it still when I think of it. The thing I always was is weird and I had to try and I still have to try, and I'm still here with all my skills watch me go. They used to tell me I was smart and sometimes they tell me I'm funny and a few times they tell me I can write but I am a dispatcher and I am still here.
I was a sucker for a pretty face or two and I had no substance and I was a poor man for my unhappiness but I am still here. I went away to college and I met there so many people and in seven years since many are gone but I am still here and the ones who are still here are why I am still here.

You're still here, in part, because you've become Sams. 

Stay out of the basement.

[Eater of Clowns]

Coyote that was incredible stuff.

I was an angry kid and I'm still here an angry adult but the anger is humor now unless it escapes me. I wasn't picked on much but sometimes I was the aggressor and I'm ashamed of it still when I think of it. The thing I always was is weird and I had to try and I still have to try, and I'm still here with all my skills watch me go. They used to tell me I was smart and sometimes they tell me I'm funny and a few times they tell me I can write but I am a dispatcher and I am still here.
I was a sucker for a pretty face or two and I had no substance and I was a poor man for my unhappiness but I am still here. I went away to college and I met there so many people and in seven years since many are gone but I am still here and the ones who are still here are why I am still here.

You're still here, in part, because you've become Sams. 

Stay out of the basement.

Things don't always go the best for Sams. But Sams is still here.

[rong]

a point on
a line in
a plane in
  for i = 3, undefined
    an i-space
  next i

[Doktor Howl]

Coyote that was incredible stuff.

I was an angry kid and I'm still here an angry adult but the anger is humor now unless it escapes me. I wasn't picked on much but sometimes I was the aggressor and I'm ashamed of it still when I think of it. The thing I always was is weird and I had to try and I still have to try, and I'm still here with all my skills watch me go. They used to tell me I was smart and sometimes they tell me I'm funny and a few times they tell me I can write but I am a dispatcher and I am still here.
I was a sucker for a pretty face or two and I had no substance and I was a poor man for my unhappiness but I am still here. I went away to college and I met there so many people and in seven years since many are gone but I am still here and the ones who are still here are why I am still here.

You're still here, in part, because you've become Sams. 

Stay out of the basement.

Things don't always go the best for Sams. But Sams is still here.

Yeah, Sams is always wearing somebody ELSE'S gore.

[Faust]

I'm slowly dissolving like an alka seltzer in a glass of water, I have been for about a decade. It's a slow comfortable kind of thing that you dont feel the need to lash out against (and it's not as if there was anything concrete to point to either way).

Its not a death, that would be something solid, definitive and tangible, it's that there is less and less until its all gone.

[Ben Shapiro]

Where the fuck am I, and where is my horse?
Jewcat Happy
Brother Sodomized
Binks angry
Me angrier
Ass is bleeding
Texas hot

[Doktor Howl]

Where the fuck am I, and where is my horse?


Binks angry

You are on the lam, and Binks is fucking your horse in the ass.

DO NOT MAKE BINKS ANGRY.

[EK WAFFLR]

Here I am, rockin' like a hurricane.

Not really though.
I don't know where I am.

I feel like I have nothing to say.
Yet I want to say a lot.

I'm afraid. So afraid, in fact, that my nightmares have stopped scaring me. They just are.
I'm afraid of dying. I'm afraid my puppy will outlive me.
I'm afraid because my dad died at 40. I'm now 33.
Sometimes this completely cripples me.

And I really just want to write, but I am unable to find the mindset and calm to do it.

[Reginald Ret]

Here I am, rockin' like a hurricane.

Not really though.
I don't know where I am.

I feel like I have nothing to say.
Yet I want to say a lot.

I'm afraid. So afraid, in fact, that my nightmares have stopped scaring me. They just are.
I'm afraid of dying. I'm afraid my puppy will outlive me.
I'm afraid because my dad died at 40. I'm now 33.
Sometimes this completely cripples me.

And I really just want to write, but I am unable to find the mindset and calm to do it.

You just did, maybe calm isn't the right writing mood for you at the moment.

[EK WAFFLR]

Hah. True. Luckily it lasted only a few days.

Now I really am rocking like a hurricane. Albeit a very small one.

[East Coast Hustle]

I was the naked child on the beach in paradise. Then things went sideways with the "family business" and we had to run to the frozen north. Now I'm here.

I was the smart poor kid in a town full of old money who couldn't shut his mouth. I got my ass kicked every day for 7 years until the recession saved me in the form of a doomed economy and we had to run to the glittering jewel by the sound where dreams come true. Now I'm here.

I was the one who decided to carry on the "family business" until my friends started disappearing one by one, victims of the product, the competition, or the law. and I had to flee both the consequences and the weight of my betrayals. Now I'm here.

I was a ghost, wandering from city to city and job to job without ever leaving anything tangible or memorable in my wake. Bouncing in Pontiac. Bartending in LA. Street hustling in St. Paul. Selling power tools in the Sierra Nevadas. I don't even know how it's possible to flee from your own fleeing, but I did. Now I'm here.

I was a businessman, legitimate but still profiting from other peoples' bad habits. I embedded myself in the fabric of a small town, running for office and appearing shirtless in a charity calendar. Oh, and I stole. I stole from myself until I had to flee bankruptcy and failure, as far away as I could get. Now I'm here.

I was a chef bouncing from town to town, island to island, ocean to ocean, using my alchemy as currency both literal and social. I used my talents to see the world, meet famous people, and sleep with beautiful women and for one fleeting moment I thought I had found fulfillment. But the world changed again, or maybe I did, and I became increasingly unable to ignore the fact that I profited from an industry dependent on exploiting the people who make it possible. Things got to the point where the people above me began to punish me for being unwilling to fuck people over because they were poor or brown-skinned. It got so bad that I started having anxiety attacks and occasionally had to leave the building to do breathing exercises so I wouldn't lose my shit and beat my GM to death. I tried to find work in a different industry, but it's tough with 20 years of experience that doesn't really translate to the normal world. Eventually I couldn't wait any longer and I just up and quit.

That was yesterday.

So now I'm here. But I don't know where that is and I don't know where to flee to now.