Aria, what can I say?

Nothing. Nothing of consequence. What have I been doing? Where have I been? I hate that my words are gone. I hate that I abandon everything. I hate that I blind myself.

The voice, of course, belonged to Doktor Everything. And there was nothing I could do - nothing, again nothing. I turned around.

And there he was. He seemed ( Read more... )

I'm reaching the end of my art.  Words don't do what I want them to do anymore; sentences don't flow together.  Paragraphs rise like plateaus, inaccessible ( Read more... )

So I found out why Herzog didn't show up. Apparently Doktor Everything lured him into his lab with the promise of peanut butter cookies, and then made him into a coatrack. I don't know what he did with the shipment. Damn that Doktor Everything. He thinks he can strut around appropriating things and get away with it. Well, he is the wrongest of ( Read more... )

Herzog STILL hasn't shown up, although Doktor Everything walked by the drugstore yesterday when I was buying supplies, and he was wearing Herzog's hat. I don't like Doktor Everything ( Read more... )

I don't understand why Herzog hasn't shown up. He was supposed to be here with the thing an hour ago. In the past hour, the following people have knocked on my door:

• The postman
• Johnny the Nuclear-Fission Salesman
• The postman (he always rings twice; I don't know why)
• Three pigeons tied to a dog
• Mrs. Fitz, the landlady