Len Gurts Cut-It-Off Technique

An experimental edge being taken off.
A belief in love with no. Cogito.
Two lines—they down. We off baby.
Sliding my fingersddgghjjkl across it. I just had a flashback.
Can it be musical? Could I plan that?
Creating a piece of art for one person, no thought of the rest of the audience. Impossible.
But the credits are on your mind with their tanks.
Jumping too far ahead: the return! the return!
Questioning the !!
These are getting so much shorter for me and I am watching less trauma.
This cannot correlate with a coherent… canvas? Performance piece?
What is my voice?
I agree—we should throw it all out the window. But then how you going to tell me?
That’s right: in the wake of around… one thousand people: none of them are close.
Shorter sentence.
I was getting carried away.
This is like the silent retreat you keep threatening.
Why did I have that target? What did they do?
Up, down, left, right—moods. Not mine.
(It can be musical.)
Ah that was definitely worth the look back.
(No—don’t include her anymore.)
She uses pronouns professionally but I know how she feels.
What does… this?… say about
what is?
I. Can’t. Say. What the. Ther-a-pist. Said.
I. Want. You. To. Read it. Like. Me.
That was it: if it’s universal surely it’s unrepresentative? When does the story end?
Anddddd—the things I could have done instead of this.