Snakepit for Brains

7/30/2019 Snakepit for Brains

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Snakepit-For-Brains

By

Jesse Alvarez



Did you know that cars are way bigger and stronger than

bikes and it's pretty dangerous to ride a bike in traffic? Seriously,

be careful out there guys. It's dangerous. It's like a 4th gradertrying to eat lunch with the 8th graders.

But seriously folks, here are some things you should dream about:

1. Being given a spoon and a bottle of chocolate syrup and having

to eat your way out of a Maximum Security Ice Cream prison.2. Your shadow whispering in your ear how weird it feels when

you stand outside in the heavy snow

3. Skydiving from a plane that is sitting dormant in a hangar

Whatever the next number is. Pills that make you better

We'll get back to that later. But in the meantime how aboutthis update from our weatherman Phillip J. Carmichael. Phil?

Thanks Kent. Looks like we've got a 90% Chance of



Despair

AND

ANGUISH Kent?

Thanks Phil. Now allow me to read off all of the nasty ways in

which people in the area were killed. Alright here we go

Scott Pellegrino died tonight after his bedroom window committed

suicide(Blew Itself To Smithereens) from Blind Covered loneliness,and he caught shards of glass in the neck.

Frank Harrison passed on after crying so much that he drowned in

tears

Sarah Maddox was making her hubby din din went the chickenmagically jumped up, held her down, chopped her head off, then

stuffed her with breadcrumbs



Tasha Preston found a wood box with some crazy ass markings on

it and of course tried to open that shit up. LOL don't you know not

to fuck with that Tasha? Cmon now. Course she got fucked up by

demons and all that shit. Duh.

Sylvester Quick died from having too cool a name

Drake Webster was walking home from work(can't afford car

payments) tonight and was coaxed into a cemetery by a frantic

man. Apprehensive at first, he declined. But after some fairly

pathetic pleading by the man for nondescript "Help" he finallydecided to follow the man in. Right by a grave stone, Drake

encountered a woman laid on her back, legs up in the air,

screaming her head off in pain. He realized, "wow, this woman's

giving birth!" Now Drake, a lowly cashier at a clothing store, had

only knowledge of delivering babies that he'd seen on television

programs and the like. So he didn't quite know exactly how he

could be of any service. But the man insisted that Drake was the

first person he'd seen pass by in the last hour or so and may havebeen the couple's only hope. So Drake just tried to keep the

woman calm, assure her everything would be alright, even if he

didn't really believe so himself. But he thought, "reassuring her

couldn't hurt, I mean for fuck's sake already, the lady's havin' a

baby in a damn deserted cemetery, at night! Wait a second. Why

are they in this cemetery if the woman is close to delivering" But

as soon as he'd contemplated the oddness of that situation, the

man said "He's crowning! He's crowning!" and Drake said "Well, Iguess it's time for you to push". So the woman pushed a few good

times, and after about 5 minutes of pushing, she had delivered a

beautiful baby boy. Now, since this BIRTH, took place in a

CEMETERY, God's wires got a little crossed up, and thought

someone had to die. Why? We'll never know I suppose. He moves



in Mysterious Ways. But just about the moment the baby's cries

became fully audible, Drake felt a sharp pain in his chest, and fell

to the ground. The last thing he saw was the clear night sky, and

a tall headstone looming over him as he faded to blackness.

Dan Campbell choked on a double cheeseburger.

Alright that does it for us here on the News. Have a good night

folks. Sleep tight!

I haven't turned on my master bedroom bathroom faucet in

probably a month. If I did, it would instantly clog from hair in the

sink being washed down the drain. This is a little embarrassing.

You can tell me something embarrassing about yourself now, if

you wish. Go ahead, say it to the screen. I can see you. Don'tworry if you're naked, I'm not aroused. I'm asexual, so it's aight. I

respect your need to feel free.

No wait, don't get all offended. If you disparage me my

mother will send you a strongly worded .wav file. It will probably

just be the Jay-Z song "Public Service Announcement". I dunno,

she just loves that song. She's a cool mom. I love her. Maybe that

will make you love me again.



ONE TIMESHE GOT ME

ACHRISTMAS

GIFT. IT WAS

AN iPADIt was not very comfortable to sit on at the ballgame. Also it

broke. I didn't know I was supposed to enjoy surfing the net and

having all the amenities of a laptop computer at my fingertips.



Whoops. Probably shoulda called it something else than iPad.

Gives people like me the wrong idea.

The next year I got TWO lumps of coal in my stocking. The one Iasked for from my dad(he left when I was a young boy) and then

one from Santa for being a bad boy and asking deadbeat dad for

a Christmas Gift. Hahaha tricked you Idiot Santa, I need coal to

heat my house ya dinkus. Kiss off Fatman.

Which brings me to my next topic: LOVE

Now I'm not gonna say I love anybody, but I do.

I love a lot of people. Well, not A LOT a lot. But you are pretty

cool.

You probably wouldn't love me no matter what but ESPECIALLY

If you knew how much I smelled my own hands.

I mean I don't do it in the same way that SNL character does.

I don't put em in my armpits first. But I just smell em sometimes.

Why am I telling you this?

Why do I tell you anything really.

Because you listen



I'm alone. Even if there were a thousand people around me

while I write this, I'm all alone. Just reading this you should

understand what I mean. And maybe when you do that, I willbecome less alone. But it's also possible that "Alone" does not

have degrees to it, one either IS alone or ISN'T alone. I'm only

asking for one person. And no one can give that to me. It's not

that they don't WANT to give it to me. They CAN'T. And that's the

hardest thing to swallow. Harder than this razor blade. Harder

than a wall. Now I hope you won't go out and try to swallow a

wall. It's too hard guys. Just trust me.

Oh to live in a time when every thing on earth is edible.

Everyone's gotta eat. Everything natural is edible. You could eat

wood if you didn't have to worry about getting a splinter.

You could eat rocks if stupid God made your teeth a little bit

stronger. What the heck was he thinking? Also why'd he have to

make our waste smell bad? He shoulda made it smell like fresh

cut roses and then you wouldn't have to get mad at people who

don't know when to courtesy flush in a public bathroom.

You could eat Tree Frogs if they hadn't........evolved........a

uh..........poisonous defense against being eaten...........or

something. Anyway God grant me the serenity etc. etc. etc.

y'know what I'm sayin'?



My mouth says some crazy things sometimes, but not nearly as

many crazy things as my brain thinks. Like this for instance:

If I could do things differently I

would've known where you were

my whole life and nothing bad

would've ever happened to me.

Or you, probably.

So there's that.

If any of you met me you'd know it was me by being the guy in

the t-shirt of a metalcore band that I don't even like singing Clipse

lyrics to myself as I sit alone at my kitchen table eating a Subway

sandwich. Also, why are you in my house and how did you get in

here?

But hey, let's watch some television. Let's have a look at

what's on the ol' idiot box huh? Flip that sucker on. Power that

sonofagun up. What's on Channel 2?

A SHOW ABOUT BEAUTIFUL SUCCESSFUL PEOPLE

What about Channel 4?







SPORTS


THE NEWS

Damn, already watched the News tonight. Nevermind. Let's watch

Netflix.

A television is like a window in a way except you can choose what

you want to look at. You can't change the channel on a violent TV

show inappropriate for children if you're looking out your window

at it.

Calm down for a moment and consider the following things:



Elephant Ballet

Glass Ants

Magic Eye Walled Insane Asylum

Space Teens(Punks)

Door Made Of Dogs

Poker With Chips That Try To Run Away From The Table And Start

Chip Families

A Tattoo Of Hell

Bug Blanket

Break me in two. Eat one of my halves now and save the

other half for later. But please don't put me in the fridge. It's so

cold in there. Come to think of it it's gettin' a lil cold in here right

now

Everybody wants to be loved. So how is it that so many peopleare such terrible assholes? That's the question what baffles me.

I came home from work one night, at around 11 pm. As I

entered the door of my house, I immediately felt something was



amiss. Something was out of place, I instantly could feel it. I walk

into the living room, and discover my sister passed out on the

floor. I freeze in fear. What the hell happened? Is she alive? Is she

dead? I can't tell. She stirs a bit, calming my nerves a little. I say

"What happened?". "I fell", she says, which squeezes a tiny bit of laughter out of me. From her slurred speech I can tell she's drunk

out of her mind. I go to help her up when I realize the sweatpants

she's wearing are down at her knees and she's laying in a position

where I can't pull them up. The carpet in the area she's laying is

stained, and it becomes quickly obvious that she has pissed

herself. So I have to lift her into a position in which I can pull her

pants back up, then lift her up to her feet and help her to bed.

This is all after having worked a 16 hour shift on very little sleep.So I help her to her feet, and walk with her, making sure she

balances well enough to make it to her bed. Once she's all tucked

in, I spend the next 30 minutes cleaning up the piss stain on the

living room carpet. Apparently she had drunk an entire bottle of

tequila that night. When I asked her why she was drinking so

much alone at home, she replied "Cinco De Mayo." IT WAS MAY

14TH AND WE'RE NOT EVEN MEXICAN. Actually, it wasn't my

sister that did this. It was my dad, whose right side was crippledby a massive stroke a few years earlier. I don't even have a sister.

the woman

on the tv



looksbeautiful.

big surprisethere.

It would probably be lame of me to sing the lyrics to "My

Way" by Limp Bizkit but that's all that I can think to do at this

moment in time

Cuz this time I'ma let it all come out

This time I'ma stand up and shout

I'ma do things My Way

It's my way

My way or the highway



I have never had the urge to hurt myself, but I know that

there are many people out there that have, and still do. I love you

all, and I wish you would not do that because it would be betterfor your long term health probably, but you'll never see me smack

the razorblade out of your hand. Because ultimately, it's your

choice. It will be better for you if YOU are the one to decide to

stop, if that's even something that you want to do.

The Buccaneers old Creamsicle jerseys

Made me want ice cream really bad

Too bad they were awful back then

I may have had a tastier childhood

Life and I are at an impasse

I don't know where to go next

And there are no Gas Stations around

To stop and ask for directions

This is my least favorite color

There is a hurricane between you and I



And sadly there probably will never not be

It might make a pot of soup out of our heads

A tasty concoction for the homeless to fill their bellies with

Your power shot straight, waxing candled mountains wick

longer than a bride's train, carrying so much graffiti tag ripped

out and thrown in a trash can you hear me as I scream hawk

swooping in like windswept rain of kingdoms, armies of sword

swingers fucking the life out of each other drunk on spiked

tomato juice, keys piled on top of keys in a bedpan, flute like a

Heisman, critical mass murder suspect me guilty, consciousness. The Haddock fish scale of justice, blind leading the blinds drawn

to let in zero light blue sky scrapers, no scraping, ice off of your

windshield, spears and 300 Spartans, Phalanx formation of cloud

computing, mathematical face, adding and subtracting sour

expressions like toddlers in school, with numbers of Cheese

sandwiches that Ms. Wilson made for her son's soccer team, with

bacteria.

Rockin' a Parasol in a Whirlwind, contact my agent if you

want me to talk to the media, he knows what I would say. My dad

never told me I had to be a man when I grew up but I ended up

being one anyway. The way not illuminated with Halogen

Fluorescence, but with candlelight, so if I run too fast I could blow

them out and never find my way back.

It's morning in reality but night in my mind, My Owl-ish

qualities are not confined to good eyesight but also nocturnality.

Also, I've said "Who" before but it's mostly just whenever I look in

to the mirror.



Don't talk to me about your fantasy

football team. Unless somethinglike, REALLY CRAZY happened in

your matchup.

Yo, my man's and dem

Was down dey at tha cona sto'

Muhfucka walk up in dey wit a gun, son

Rob they shit

All tha bruvva took

Was some GOTdamn Flamin' Hot Cheetos

They don't cost but 99 cents, mane.

Just buy dem shits.

You ain't got 99 cents?



You're fuckin' A right I don't.

My mother was very poor

So poor life is all I know

My only skill is not saying the right thing

But at least I say it at the right time

The spice of life

Is not variety

It's to cuddle with someone you love

Even if it's only your friend

And not someone you want to kiss passionately



ACQUIESCE WITHME

The starting lineup is as follows:

At Guard, a man in a suit, similar to a cop's!

At Guard, a hard plastic sheath, to protect soccer players' shins!

At Forward, how I am with my feelings, sometimes to a fault!

At Forward, Progress!

And at Center, The Sun!

Head Coach, No one. Game over, that's against the rules.

Dumbass.

When someone says "No one cares about (TOPIC X)" what

they really mean is "No one whose opinion I consider valid cares

about (TOPIC X), therefore I do not consider (TOPIC X) a valid



topic to discuss". Don't let this manipulation of language fool you.

A LOT of people care about Nascar. A LOT.

Upheaval within the Demonic Hordes chasing you down as

you walk to the store in the middle of the night. A usually

uneventful trip but something tonight was different. Something

smelled different about the air. There was a certain......Redness to

it. You didn't know there were Demons chasing you. But their

leader has grown impatient with their demon skills. You don't

seem to be scared even though you feel weird. He requests they

step up their snarling and their haunting and their teeth gnashing

and sharpen their claws. But by the time they all get the

message, you're already back at home in your PJ's, eating your

Mallowmars. Oh well. Guess it's time to move on to another poor

wayward soul. Better luck next time.

I'm blind, Mr. Magoo. Abel only to see bits and pieces, only flashes

of brilliance, with no Cain to keep me in check.

Everything is unreliable

Because everything will stop working after a while

Unless you never use it

In which case what use is it to you?



SHOW ME

YOUR TRUECOLORS

Tenderize my beef with forceful hugs, that pound my body into

smiling submission. Happy to get hurt by love, overflowing.

The Cup Runs Over Me And Drives Off. Hit And Run. No LicensePlate Number, No Registration. It's A Cup. What Are The Cops

Gonna Do? Probably Not Believe You.



The Roof caves, in the mountains of molehills, do not wake

the Sleeping Giant's Causeway of Ever branching Paths, To Glory,

Of the coming of the Lord's Prayer, For Judgment, Day The EarthStood Still, Of the Night Of the Living Dead Man Walking The

Tightrope Between Friendship And Intimacy, Closed the Road to

Nowhere In Particular Place To Go West, Young Man, young

Cardinal Red Pope, A King in a Pointy Hat, flying on wings of glue

made from a non-flying animal, Kingdom of Hearts Desire, What's

lurking in my lungs, cold air keeps me alive and kicking the tires,

the Snow Chains rattling the caged bird sings. I used to know why

but I forgot. Distant Knowledge an unwelcome substitute teacher

for more current logic. Problems, I have them's the breaks the

chain of eventual death ray of sunshine state of play the game of

Life.

He thought he was a worm. Steeped horribly in irrationality,

and being a human, nobody but nobody could tell him he wasn't a

worm. He loved worms. He loved the saying "The Worm Has

Turned". He DIDN'T love the joke "What's worse than finding a

worm in your apple? Finding HALF a worm!" because it reminded

him that worms die. Everything dies. Perhaps he was trying to

suspend his humanity by trying to convince himself he wasn'thuman. Perhaps he saw the seemingly inherent evil in the human

condition and saw the lack of sentience within a worm, and

thought he could choose to be incognisant. Choose to put a shield

over his eyes. Forget what it was to be human, to be evil. To hate

things. To see awful things take place, powerless to stop. To say



hurtful things in fits of rage to people you truly love, to lose

things. All worms can do is move. "That makes them the perfect

creatures", he thought, "because that means they can't fuck

things up with their emotions." Perfect sense in his mind. So he

smeared slime all over his body and went outside and rolled inthe dirt. And he put a blindfold over his eyes. And he put tape

over his mouth. And he had his voice box removed. And he

punctured his ear drums. And he slithered to school one day(Mom

MADE him go) to prove all the HUMANS wrong. Everyone was

screaming insults at him, but he couldn't hear. Everyone was

making rude gestures at him, but he couldn't see. All he could do

was move. All he could do, was move. And he felt perfect in that

moment. He felt like he had discovered the true essence of life. Just to move. To exist unaware of the surrounding earth and all its

treacherousness, in the form of speech, of sight, of hearing.

But, Worm Boy could still THINK. "What good a worm am I if I

can still think?" he thought, further infuriating him as he could not

get himself to stop thinking thoughts. HUMAN thoughts,

nonetheless, not even Worm thoughts. He tried so hard to think

"SOAK UP NUTRIENTS" or "WHAT'S THAT LIGHT PATTERN OVER

THERE" only, even as Unwormlike as those thoughts are, they

were still an improvement over "I wonder how weird I look" or

"How impressed is everyone with my dedication" or "What is

everyone saying about me, I wonder?" So one day he decided to

slither on over to the lobotomy shop and end this wretched prison

sentence of thought. See, the good thing about Lobotomy Shops

is you don't need to tell them what you want done, once you

enter, it is assumed(and I think by this time they'd just do one on

Worm Boy out of posterity after seeing his decrepit, awful state).

So Worm Boy saved up all the energy he could muster and

made the long slither trek to the Lobotomy Shop. He never

thought about how much it would cost, but once he rolled through

the door, the Brain Men didn't really think about that either. They



just fired up the Brain Drill, and prepared to take his sentience,

for once and for all. Worm Boy didn't even know what hit him.

Ever again. He was gone, and became an it. They rolled him out

the door. He just lay there. He was dead. Less than a worm. A

nothing. A waste of temporal space. He never truly became whathe wanted to become, or what he thought he could be. All

because of his distaste. For the Human. Condition.

Strap me into a gurney and force me into Palliative Care

Even though I'm not dying

I just need someone to ease my pain

I need a nurse to feed me applesauce

And stroke my hair lovingly

Then at the end of the day I can get up and go home

My insurance probably covers this

But even if not

I will pay out of pocket for it

No matter the price

Even if it requires my dignity



Towering Spruce Saplings

Looming large over Earth, staring down

At little ant humans waiting for the axe to enter

We are scared of shadows, that's why we must fell them

I'm using this color because the word "Spruce" reminds me of it,

ok

Walking on stairs made of dead felled trees, perfectly

mathematized, Stare

Free blood available in the Blood Drive Lobby Area, All you haveto do is.....

Steal it from under the noses of the vampires. They won't bite

hard really

Just enough to break skin. Bring a flashlight if they get too

rowdy, just

shine it straight in their eyes, they hate light uunderstand? Make

sure yr Aim is on point, you don't wanna miss this

important

light shot, dude. Don't be a bad light archer.



Penalty

could be extremely severe, you know? Be careful

It’s that portion of the program where I tell you what to dream

about again!

Try these:

1. A gravel road that screams in agony every time you drive on

it

2. The Tree of Life falling in with the wrong crowd and

becoming the Tree of Death, dressing in all black, doing Tree

Drugs, rebelling against Tree Cops and its own Tree Parents

3. Driving in a Driveway and Parking in a Parkway

4. A Mouse catching YOU in a trap by putting a lil hunk of cheese in it(He’s seen the way you look at cheese while you

eat it. Your eyes smack of love)

5. Everyone Speaking Tangible Words In This Font

6. A Roulette Wheel that never stops spinning. The line of



people betting on what it will stop on stretching all the way

from the Casino to Truth Or Consequences, New Mexico

7. Kissing the person you want to kiss(this might be the most

unlikely to happen of all of these)8. A Number of Such Great Magnitude, the very concept of it is

lost on you and everyone else, except Deities. A

Disembodied Voice booms, saying you can have anything

you want, any tangible thing, to amount to this impossibly

large numbers. You say, almost as a reflex “Potato Chips?”

You are instantly drowned in salt and fried potato crisps.

9. Me

I am shown a window. Of course, I make to look through it.

Outside, an otherwise nondescript Hispanic man in a hairnetlooks back at me, holding up a sharp, glimmering knife against

the beating Sun. A cow is shoved forth, bleating wildly,

probably cognizant of what is about to happen. The man

smiles, as he plunges the knife into the neck of the cow. There

is nothing sacred in this gruesome spectacle, there is nothing

beautiful, no poetry to be found in it. Blood is soaking

everything. The man, the grass, the knife, the Leathery skin of

the now long dead animal. Thought saturated in blood, the mancontinues to smile. He’s making a healthy living wage, and may

be able to put his young children through a respectable

American university if he plays his cards right. We can’t blame

him for this gruesome death. We can’t blame anyone, really.

Everyone’s just doing their job. Well, we could blame SOMEONE



actually. Ourselves. A few yards from the slaughter, a young

mother of Indian descent stands, crying effusively, holding her

child. The Sacred animal has been lost, but perhaps the spirit

can be salvaged. As the cow parts are about to be shoved into

the Meat Grinder, the Indian woman cries out for the man tostop. In an unstoppably quick motion, she shoves her child into

the meat grinder, preserving the spirit of her Sacred Love, at a

great cost, but possibly at an even greater reward.

I suppose after all this, the thing I’m trying to say is simply this:

ONE

MAN’S



TRASHIS

ANOTHER

MAN’S

TREASURE

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