i thought he should go see her. she was the one who responded to his texts. he usually had to text her and then she would text him. sometimes, she would text him with a thought she had about herself or someone else and he would feel that there was hope. he didn’t want to see her, not now. he wanted to see her later. she won’t be there, then. she ‘s here for another day. he’s stubborn. he get’s an unhappy thought and then there’s another unhappy thought, and before thought there’s a shaft. he takes a walk. they see him on the ice in his white van sneakers and orange wool hat. they wonder when he’s going to check in. he needs his shot. they have a long needle. he never looks at it. they are not going to give him a shot unless he asks for. he has a disease that can kill him if he doesn’t take the shot. they gave him a name and a number so that he can work for someone, even for himself if he wants. he read a story about a man in a gulag who didn’t work. everyone in the gulag was a slave. they had tasks. they were happy to have them and not to only have the next thought and not to have to think about the freezing cold. the man severed his hand at the wrist with an ax. he liked the story.
he day dreamed about supernatural dwarves and elves and frost giants and transexual communists from the midwest. he day dreamed about when there was no earth, sky, monopolies, cartels, and one god that fixed all the prices. he daydreamed there were transgender communist giants from ohio and oregon. he felt the shifts take place in his mind, the nothingness and the emergence of land and thought.
his korean accountant wanted his number to call him on his cell.
he had overwhelmed the accountant with questions and statements. he said he had nothing to add. the accountant wanted a profit loss statement when he had no profits or losses to report. he didn’t care for the shortness of the accountant’s texts.
another tooth came undone. he didn’t know if it was the same tooth he had a problem with or if it was a healthy tooth. he spat blood into the drain. he felt the soft hole where the tooth had been. it felt primeval. the woman who would be here for another day had stuck her tongue in his ear. he had screamed when she did it. he didn’t want her to lose her tongue to his ear.
they have seen him with her. they think she’s too young for him. they questioned him about what he wanted to do with her. he said he was having an unhappy thought. she said that she didn’t know what to do with him and that he didn’t know what to do with her.
he said that he didn’t, like thoreau, want anyone thinking for him, even though he used a computer that had its categories of thought and he had a therapist who made him feel normal when he said that no one was normal. they said that there was nowhere for them to be alone or to experience something that hasn’t been experienced. he said that he knew a place that hadn’t been discovered in south america. they said that it had been discovered by a late great french thinker in the nineteen seventies. he said he hadn’t heard about the late french thinker’s discovery and that he would look into the matter when he had the time.
he said, he didn’t believe in hierarchy. i think everyone is equal. they had a large omniscient smile that looked like it had been carved out by a knife. he said i don’t think you are superior to me because your information is faster than mine.  my thought is slow and deeper than your busy lazy thoughts. you have been reading norse mythology, they said. yes, he said. he removed a small sharp sword from his sock and he chopped off heads and arms and legs. they gathered the severed heads and left the arms and legs on the ground. what do you call your sword, they said. it has no name, he said. does it have a number, they said. it hasn’t been registered, he said. your accountant won’t approve, they said. what are you going to do with the heads, he said. we are going to give them a pastime, they said.