Amen. Get reckless.
Dostoevsky and Tolstoy and A talking Cat and I’m tense and nervous and I… can’t relax.
There are so many flat surfaces in the public library that we couldn’t help ourselves. Really.
The temptation was too strong.
Maria’s cat and I went to check out some books for.. personal reasons.
Okay in full transparency, there’s an ongoing debate between us.
She believes Tolstoy over Dostoevsky which is incorrect.
And it’s worse because being half demon she was around when they walked the Earth. She mentioned seeing Dostoevsky during the Winter of 1873 in St Petersburg soon after he finished Demons, but prior to publishing and claims he was “heavy souled, deep set eyes,” and "asked her “where’s the nearest shop for bread.”
Believing her because they both battled with -too real- questions such as how a just God could allow children suffering, can any man escape his primality, When is the best time to do each thing? Who are the most important people to work with? What is the most important thing to do at all times?
Thoughts of this nature that are weights of lightening for the brain of man.
But Dostoevsky. He saw the world in possibility of extremes. Hey, brother, it’s a wild world right? You might just leave the gym, get in your car, crank it and ignite an explosion.
Next Monday The Cigarette Shop will reopen to the Souled Idea private list.
Vintage and unopened packs - or cartons for the heavy chiefers - of 1980’s Camels, Winstons, REALs, KOOL, Madisons, and others.
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He’s a realist unbound by reality.
Magnifies it to extremes, stretches it until it nearly snaps. Fictionalized non fiction and the answers to your questions are riddled under what may or may not be sane.
“Right or wrong, it's very pleasant to break something from time to time.”
He walks in a way we all should:
Play with reality,
Rip things to shreds,
Start a fire no matter how small,
Vocalize your hottest takes (What’s yours? Think about it now. Tell a new person today.)
Laugh at funerals,
Do the Dougie in the convenient store parking lot with some old dude he looks 56 but says he’s 31 and have a cigarillo in his ear.
Flat surface. Books. Public library is drowning in them and the smell of old paper has us both full of madness.
We couldn’t help ourselves.
Looking back I see this is where we went wrong. But making eye contact, shrugging a little, and moving without words, Marias cat breaks out a bag of either cocaine, or highly crystallined synthetic creatine in the same color hue and spreads in across the surface of The Death of Ivan Ilyich and a spare razor gets pulled out of her fur and I’m not imaging this and the next thing I know it’s all a blur and a security guard is holding her by the furry neck and me by the shoulder and shoving me into the parking lot yelling outlandish things such as
“there are kids here!”
“delinquents! I should call the cops!”
“don’t ever show your faces here again!”
We’re in the car. Electric. I’m laughing, almost crying, she’s hissing but I think it’s a joyous expression. Then the bluetooth connects, The Rolling Stones Gimme Shelter plays and what’s next, we have to move! Go!
There’s a world of options. A list of places to go.
“What now?” she asks
and the ideas flood in: The ways to spend a good day in America, all the things available to us
“The pool hall?
The batting cage?
Whole foods to hit on wino moms?
The arcade?
The bowling alley is only $20 for two hours?
A walk on the trails? Hit the river?
Speed in the car for the whole Off The Bone - Cramps 1983 album where they really, stylistically, came into their own?
The arcade? We could bet on pinball I know you don’t have thumbs but got a $50 to lose?
WE CAN GO ANYWHERE!”
Part Five of the “fictionalized” (per my attorneys nagging insistence) beach gang, The Holy Misfits, goes out tomorrow morning to exclusive subscribers.
The world is yours, a present from God, to enjoy and check out while down here. Leave anxiety at every doorway. Find a new place today.
Much Love,
Winston
Souled Idea
Stump Preacher
East Coast Madman
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