The Child Management Dadbook (Chapter 2: Music and Sports, Subsection III. The Dark Arts of Coaching)
There are three. A dark trinity. A malevolent manifesto of fire, stone, or ice. There is 1. Anger 2. Judgment 3. Unlove
Headmistress in you needs advanced spells for this love.
WE WILL BE RITING OWER MEMOOS TO MOMY EVREE DAY.
"gggggggggggggggggG ."
ZZ, 0 yrs
"1 2 3 4 5 6 yrsTOfrrrrrrrrrrrrreedmon."
Z, 1 yr
"ZM SG W DSMCAT ISDIO."
Zachry, 2 yrs
"litel dog = subwoofer, big woofer ≠ subwoofer."
"I kould not cee my selfe in the miror t ? this morning."
Zachary, 3yrs
"when I. speak, all I heer is the cats meow."
"1 bunny, 1 bunny, 2 bunnies, dead bunny, run bunny."
Zachary, 4yrs
"I told a girl at the gym today, "I am not a sportsman.""
Zach, 5yrs
"I came out today. It happened on the playground. Cats v Dogs. . ."
Zachhh, 6yrs
"I asked Ms. Magnuson today if she'd like to have a cup of coffee with me."
Zach, 7yrs
"They have found me out yet again. Mrs. La Follette snapped at me in class for moving objects with my mind (during a small earthquake, thank the lord).
Z, 8yrs
"Quite peculiar--I cannot stop speaking in a British accent. I assume the letter from Hogwarts was lost. . ."
Zachary, 9yrs
"My poor, poor King passed away today. I will find him in another life."
Zachary, 10yrs
This is King Chewbacca “Chewie” “Hagrid” “Bear” III love you to the ends of the universe.
There remain questions to be answered and mysteries to be explored, the first of which is, "Would I still love you if you turned into a slug?"
The answer is clear: I would not only love you and take care of you, but I would strangle you until your head detaches from your body, and feed you leafy greens until you regrow yourself.
As for the second question of existential dilemma and letdown for the ages, would you or would you not love me and take care of me if I became a zombie?
Another false reality, a devastating reduction of our dreamscape that I must pose to you:
04.02.26.
04.03.26. 12:53am
A person I've seen walking around my neighborhood approached me outside the building that I live in. He asked if he could pray for me. He began praying with his hand on my shoulder. I stopped him and told him, "pray that I can have children." . . . He spoke my name in his prayer for me. He finished his prayer with a "HALLELUJAH" to the tops of all the buildings nearby.
02.24.26.
I walked down to the waterfront, as I do regularly. I was compelled to stare nearly straight up at the crows the entire time. I reminisced about being on Portland State campus in 2015 and reading The Teachings of Don Juan to explore shamanism while the crow population that frequented campus reached century highs. The city released five hawks to chase them away. Mother didn't like the abnormal behavior and she chastised me, telling me to look straight ahead when I walk. I ranted for a country mile back to Mother about who on Earth should be more put off by the harmless behavior than interested in its manifest, the whole time looking up at the treetops, wondering if any old friends recognized me. Near the end of the boardwalk, walking by the line of hundreds of lit streetlamps at dusk, I said to Blue, "A great person should know the crows.” The lightbulb in the streetlamp over my head, just a few feet in front of me, spontaneously went out. I looked around to see that it was the only one not lit among the mile of them in view.
