Kartika

mixed media

Metasaurus Text

The inside of a metasaurus 
text smelled horrible.

Then the metasaurus text
was swallowed by a metametasaurus text.

The inside of a metametasaurus 
text smelled even worse.

Then the metametasaurus text 
was swallowed by a metametametasaurus text.

The inside of metametametasaurus 
text smelled the worst.

       He woke up on the couch. Scratching his head he took a piss and thought about selfishness. Putting his love of beer over everything, he imagined her crying under her freshly washed white sheets. The stove showed the time 5:06AM in the kitchen his head felt like a pressure cooker with a broken valve. The house was the belly of a beast. He tried to fall asleep but the party was still raging in his epidermis. He took a blanket from his room and laid back down on the couch. The shades began to glow around the edges. He closed his eyes. This was not happiness or sadness. Every day was like a newspaper being crumpled up and gathered to build a fire. A genie, not in a bottle of beer, but one that lived in a coffee mug. He wished a thousand caffeinated wishes at avoiding the consequences. Motivated by an odd sense of clarity covered in the sand of a broken egg timer, he heard the cars outside the window accelerating over speed bumps and the other various traffic noises. Everything was darker than outer space. And then a worm hole opened, or a spaceship landed, or maybe it had teleported. The traffic noise became extremely louder. He found himself quickly in it's jaws and was eaten. Swallowed whole by a metasaurus text, he started to read the writings on the walls of it's stomach.

thinking about an authentic experience

I wanted to go over to my black neighbors house and say,

"The titties on your snowman are too small, the ass is too big."

Now I am looking at the shadow of a nail on the wall, not even a picture, just a shadow of a hanger thinking about an authentic experience.

i don't know

"You don't call the painter and expect him to know
 the meaning of or why he created the painting."

a cold search for a notebook
with a great semi-hollow tone
a cat meowing, hungry, spoiled
the positive and negative effects
everyone has that one experience
they use to make the decision
to like or not like something
the doorknob is quiet and content
he is tired and shivering silently
the paint told the walls last week
about the importance of ceiling fans
while lobsters played the cymbals
listening to the little mermaid
through a sub-woofer in a banquet hall
you can borrow my public address system
only if you promise not to tell the glassblowers
to keep up the good work
"How's the sub-woofer sound?"
"Too low for you?"
"No, fine,"
What does it mean?
...Godfrey's Bridge

selections from a conversation

"What kind of person gives a box of crackers for Christmas?"
"Someone cool, and probably Asian."
"The word "Asian"?"
"Not Africa,"
"Everything from Asia,"
"Are we watching Cops right now?"
"Do you wanna be Waka Flocka for the rest of your life?"
"It's Cheaters,"
"They're like the love police."

the people watching tv

the people watching tv
they're televising babies
and cutting off their bodies
this is what we're watching

anti-drug commercials
are systematically failing
and this is why we're watching

just let me spend your money
on a ring for my baby mama
and this is what we're watching
and this is why we're watching

merry christmas baby

The pixie stick kid

The page ruffler

I don't want to be known as "the page ruffler" or "the itch scratcher" definitely not the itch scratcher or not "the hair flipper" or "the strange music student" no not that or "the balcony lurker in the eagles's nest" or "the hyper hyena" but rather "the pixie stick kid"
Yeah, I'd like that.

The pixie stick kid

stream of consciousness

The following was transcribed from a dirty piece of paper that I found on the floor of my truck. It was originally hand-written on a rainy day while watching an adult program on HBO in a yellow notebook at the house I used to live in.

there is toilet paper hanging from the ceiling fan
I just brought up, and lit my candle
they just don't get it, or maybe I don't get it
All of these fetishes, what about sex? just sex
Is it not good enough? really? weird
slapping each other and wearing diapers
A Hawaiian with a sweet arm tattoo, lesbian
Feminist fucking machine   art gallery
"It took about 20 anal scenes to get the gallery
open"
Yeah fucking right!
"Amazing orgasms"
The rain is falling as I watch this fucked up
show about people and their strange
compulsions
they look like tigers, lesbian tigers
"for me art + sex have always been close together"
"for me art + beer have always been close together"
"for me art + drugs have always been close together"
And the sound of our overflowing gutters
mixed with the announcer on television
say "dildos"
vegetables
cellphone as a sex toy
"that does feel good"
To Recap: hollowed out cum cucumber
headache in the top of my head
"I had a late night last night so,"
I lit my black cherry candle and took
2 drags off a cigarette and then
I thought "my head hurts and I have
to take a piss
"It's really coming down out there
I don't like it"
phone sex
and as I took a piss I looked at the clorox
bathroom cleaner
stankbeetle
stop making those puke sounds
"Stink beetles revenge"
"where'd you put those fingers tonight?"
"stink beetle's ass"
I went to sleep a couple hours ago
My black cherry candle is burning
this pen is selling this college
paying for fucking HBO, turn it off
over the air
"it's not?"
"very sexy cheerleaders"
"hello howard"
"I feel very lucky"
"Hi Howard"
"You know you make me hard"
This is the most profitable prank
phone call ever
"oh yea" porn star rhetoric
my stomach is angry at the world
"I'm ready"
Unreal
headache in the top of my head
it hurts to move
I took a nap
and you woke me up
so...

flash non-fiction

Depression

The other day I thought I was a clown. I imagined myself walking into a convenience store with my face painted wearing big floppy fucking clown shoes. Nothing was out of the ordinary; it was just my normal appearance. No one reacting to how stupid I looked, of course everyone would notice, but never say or do anything. 

flash fiction

HelplessnessIsPathetic

              I sat in a Subway eating a five dollar foot long by myself, singing a sad song to myself in my head. Sometimes I feel like I live in a fucking fantasyland. I need to stop feeling like the “failed” creative type, like I patented the most ridiculous bullshit excuse to ever exist.

            “Do you know why you feel this way?” said my sandwich. 
I was surprised the sandwich could talk, let alone read my mind.

            “Yes,” I said before taking another bite.       

            “No you don’t,” said the sandwich.

overhear: a hunting dog, that will hunt information you need
she looks like a bird
i hope this is interesting
surface details, no time for introspection
third floor, walk in late
"sorry i'm late"
oh no hands on
just think about it..immerse yourself
a writer that thinks like a engineer/wtf is it called?
practicalfuckers

i pray for rest
could you pray for us
we know he loves you the best

what are they printing?
i had a paper cut on my thumb
i cut it on a bottle
it is a hardened lump now
amatuer web design
what rhymes with italicized?
looking at pictures of myself of facebook
answers question "double dipping" rolls eyes
the boy saw a man with a telescope
the plagiarizer
the plagiarism of this blog post