By Madison in her own words
The seventh L is for listen: musical psychology. Reflect upon your life.
(please note: for those who wish to cite this study in a paper, the proper reference is: "Holy God, I have no idea." Institute of MusicalShrinkdom and Love, Heart of God, 15 Yemen Road, Yemen. LOL.

If the webpage goes down, IF, it's because we are considering new management. It's not that we dont love our gangstas, its just..idk, we'll see what Jah says, right.

Wondering whats up in the therapy sessions? Crusha. Now, that makes me laugh. Maybe the embarassment part is over.
The patient has basically been tripping, gorging and guzzling like someone would guzzle fruit smoothies right out of the blender instead of putting it into a cup.
"sure could use a good guzzle on that". "go ahead." says blue. "I thought you said we had to titrate." That was before. Go on ahead, guzzle. It's good for you. (and hey u dont' have to tell me twice)
So yeah this is full moon week but after that last song, honestly the guzzling appeals more than any songwriting at this moment.

Thursday night, a cloud of happiness mixed with the usual javelin laced ecstatic mush is basically the weather report this night. It blew in at around noon from Brooklyn.LOL.

More Mush. Goobers and spicchi, and cherry bombs with high sugar content, if you know what I mean.
You know, says the patient according to you I'm ok as long as I articulate stuff. Thats right, says the doctor.
So, pre crusha I could siesta anywhere, even on the floor. True enough, says the doctor. (one thing that ALWAYS made milk duds friends jelly was that she could sleep anywhere, inside or out, on piles of laundry, on hard floors--anywhere, and she never had insomnia either. However the crusha symptoms messed around with all that). The patient picks out a good sunny spot on the floor by a big window and allows the heart to say whatever it damn well pleases.(and whatever you're thinking, that's pretty much it. yup.) And sure enough, falls into a mushy trance, and then falls asleep on the floor.
Tuesday is like Monday. It's just more mush. in the cool of the evening, in the heat of the morning.

tonights articulations are too mushy to bother with unless ur a third grader crushing on ariana grande in which case we have a lot to talk about lol Its just too much. can't deal. But I know blue won't let me get away with it, so here we go. (howls like a woebegone wolf).

The patient wakes up with a strangely familiar feeling. The sky is totally blue. God, do I feel better, she says to herself.
She looks at the phone. 3:30. I took a siesta? I havent' done that since, since--God knows when. And I have to call XXXX this afternoon.
Clear as the sky, a thought crystalizes. I don't ever want to call XXX again.
Feeling better? the doctor pokes his head around the door. See, I told you I was a doctor.
yeah sure, the new and improved milk dud. Shrink is a dead blowhard, crushes herself sick like a pathetic Ari groupie, begs angels to put out fires and remove javelins.
plays set 48 hours straight, gets bamboozled into writing a love song about herself and a paper about batshit Italian intellectuals, also dead. Posse is named Mother Cabrini.
It kills you to admit I'm right, doesnt' it?
btw blue as long as you're here, that song learn to love, can u explain that one?

Sunday night. just a heads up u have two more weeks to hit 100 pages. sats the doctor.
you quack. im gonna have your medical musical licence yanked faster than you can say shubabbalee shubabbala.
still embarassed I see.
you and your big ideas--y not write a love song, he says. itll be good therapy he says. where did you go to school, summa come dumber?
yeah but true story wants to be told on the silent earth
yeH sure. whatever.
come on get over yourself geeeeeezz
oh yea sure easy for you to say youre not the one who looks ridiculous.
im showing my self exposure the doctor hums. ill take a real good-
ok enough! just chill ok ill finish the work.

breakfast with blue. some private shiz , thenthe patient wants the drug." so yeah if i like hit the track again is he gonna see? " ah dud? I think he already knows ok.
o boy did I eff up ths this whole thing.
so ok peeps what r u looking at? nothing to see here.

Wednesday night articulations. whoever thinks this is about a real life situation, are you serious right now? Please! This is a CASE STUDY ok CASE STUDY so fawlty DL and whoever else, idk where in Jeebeezuz you get these crazy ideas about crusha? Hello? What kind of lunatic crushes over the internet anyways I mean, third grade , people.
That said, the whole song got recorded as one thing tonight, I think its not quite as good, it's harder when you do it all as one thing but maybe the colleagues of Blue may have a different opinion. Im not sure when his office hours are though, its kind of random. Scotastic? was that the word ?

:After the articulation, the patient had to hear the last few songs on the set. "bill withers, innit? She said with glee. "There is only one love in your lifetime" the doctor hummed.
That's Kevin's spirit animal. "How do you know that?" remember he goes "Bill withers, was good for me. Pretend I'm Bill, and lean on me." Yeah, true said the doctor. Stop stop stop Im coming Im coming "stop stop stop Im runnin" dud answers.
Then comes that song shabbabali, shubabbala. which sounds like the way the spirit of love talks sometimes.
And then some pain in the buzzo people started blinging, which the patient felt a strong NO coming out of the soul, and didnt answer. "what, you dont want to answer? said the doctor. what is your heart saying, listen.
"Im so sick of the crap" said the heart. says he's sick of the crap, said dud. "yeah" said blue. "SO SO SO sick of it." tears ran down the patients face.
Sorry blue. Im all effed up. "its ok", says the doctor. You have to deal with this shiz. Want to sing a funny song. Like Jackie wilson said, it was reet petite"--what is reet petite. Idk yeah like what is it?

So So tuesday night articulations. Some of those tracks though, I just dont' get it.
Why do you say so? well, say take the one about a true story wants to be told, or even the first one, its so like heavy, it goes into you then it hurts to listen to it but you can't stop listening to it, you like freeze. but then you can't really understand it.
But then there comes a more normal tune and you like snap out it. It's almost like witchery, like some brujo wrote the heavy ones. Not exactly, says blue. Its a certain kind of psychology that has an effect on your spirit.
Anyway after the effect of these tracks, the articulation is only like four lines.

Tuesday morning breakfast with Blue. These biscotti came out pretty good huh. Chomp chomp.
So tell me something, Doctor...yes? Are you black? well..are you white?
Are you wack?
Are you tight?
You sell smack?
Want to fight?
did the sugar haze fires burn all night?
You know they did, blue.

Monday night articulation sessions. the OCD symptoms continue, and the patient is again plagued with weird insecurities and self-doubt about the lyrics, resulting in a few more lines which maybe are not even worth recording, the patient says in frustration. Holy jaysuz, this is hard. "self doubt" says Blue.

Therapy with blue First sunday in March.
Sunday night articulation sessions. Articulation is therapy for your heart, you listen, you reflect, you articulate. It's hard!! It hurts, it goes deep..
and the patient all of a sudden is getting OCD about getting the details right. She wants to be a selector. Like a queen majesty minstrel. like...well, you get the picture. And yet all she has for raw material is pop music.
So after a lot of weeping and general emotional bs, all we have is the refrain of the tay tay song. It's the hardest thing to do this, to put your heart into a song like that! or to find the song that, I mean, how do they keep all those songs in their head? the patient says to blue. "yeah, its' not easy. And it goes like this:
All I hear is baby love, and we all speak in just one tongue, waiting at the station for the train, and buying underpriced cocaine.
We go one and two and three and four, and now it's over but I want more..all I know since yesterday, your songs are the ones I play.

just after midnight in the bizarrely peaceful zone that generally accompanies the sessions. As Blue said, not yakking all night gives him time to get the patient's attention.
It does make you feel better all this musical shrink stuff, doesnt it. Says the doctor. I mean listening to the deepness of your heart.
Well-yeah it actually does. It's like, I breathe better or more deeply or something after the javelins, and I feel more like peaceful and sturdy (as a matter of fact a couple weeks back, some people the patient didnt really want to see wanted to come up and the patient figured out a way that they didnt come. Which normally the patient would just let them do as they will, but instead the patient heard their heart saying "I dont' want to deal with the crap" and actually understood what the heart was saying and actually realized there was another way.)
Well that's articulating for you. What's the song banging around your head? I guess its "some nights" by fun. "Some nights I wish that my lips could built a castle", the patient humms. "I think they could, blue agrees, and some nights I wish they'd just fall off".
You want to know what though i get sensitive when people make fun of my big mouth lately. yeah thats because you're just getting more aware of yourself. did you ever wonder about that song though, what it means?
No not really, its about the 9/11 war. Right? Like how it kept dragging on and on. And who the f wants to die alone all caught up in the desert sun.
Yeah but then why is the video all civil warrish doe? the doctor is insistent. Go look it up. And as it turns out, the lead singer said it was about an existential crisis. As in, wiki,Musically "Some Nights" is an indie pop song with elements of power pop and afrobeat while the lyrics depict the protagonist having an existential crisis....Lead singer Nate Ruess explained to Mesfin Fekadu of the Associated Press: "I'm always thinking about, 'Who am I and why did I do something like that?' And I think then it harkens back to my family, and I have such a strong tie to them and it's always therapeutic to sing about them.see, there, therapeutic, says the doctor, as in.. as in.. go ahead say it... as in MUSICAL PSYCHOLOGY
And btw will you please look up the difference between, paper, thesis and dissertation? You need to get this stuff straight in your mind ok.

930 and listening to how every single song has a meaning to the point, and being dumbstruck once again, even more than the first time, at this concept.
"they're selling you smak at a slightly slightly slightly slightly slightly slightly slightly slightly slightly cheaper rate, says the patient.
"I was waiting at the station" blue humms.
"No blue bloood no country no ego" dud grins back.
and a number of other things that are a bit shy.
"yaeh see that's what selector means. See? As opposed to your habit, just singing back whatever you hear like some happy juice parrot.
It's..dare I say it...bound to shrink your heart. Can't do otherwise. "well give that man a doctoral degree" says the patient. I believe he just out shrinked his own self.

Therapy with blue. 4 am Saturday. it's march, says the patient. It is, says the doctor. that was the craziest winter ever, u know that? And the best, the doctor replies. U know that too. I still dont get what happened. You -fell in love. It happens. With a guy from the internet? "Why not? Look Ok where is the spirit of love. Where does it live?" In the air. Right, and the air is all contiguous. its touching all over the planet, right?
Look dud what can I tell you? i dont know it all either and Im sure not gonna tell u everything I know.
can you tell me this, Why all these four oclock sessions? Since like, Christmas, dude. Yeah, well at night you are always yakkng so I had to go the haze route, haze you out with sugar, then we wake up early and I have your attention. So are you with me?
Yeah, totally. "No more beeyatching?" he looks at the patient. I'll try not to, I promise. Thats just the pain anyways.
"I know that, says the doctor,you were the one who did not know that. hence the appearance of, well if I do say so myself, the doctor. But we have stuff to do now ok. we need to talk about some stuff. And we need to go over this famous Leon paper too at some point. You did good on that, btw. ok haze head? Whatever you say, fifty car pile up.

articulation sessions, love song we been jammin to? by taytay. all i know since yesterday...everything has changed. teach me guitar says the patient, and ill do a real cover even.
7 am Friday. the patient has eaten oatmeal but is still howling and screeching. God, the racket, the doctor puts his hands over his ears. Ow, ow, javelins, the patient yells. GOD U R SUCH A CRYBABY the doctor says. "power nerd". "cry baby. "power nerd." ok BASTA. Time to move our tushy over to paperville.
Nawwaint, Im taking a break, I'm half done. "no, see that says 41 not 51. I'm not illiterate, Matilda. Plus you are putting off the citations." yeah well they are a pain in the buzzo." so just cite the whole mess to some source in Yemen.
HEY says the patient. Good idea! "Ah, dud? No. Not good. We need to articulate, remember? Listen, then articulate. Go do something constructive, I'm gonna look around see about getting us a posse. "who, mother cabrini?" Wiseass. sorry that was the javelin talking.

Just after midnight. funny love poem jam session: Come on sweet cheeks. tell me your heart.
After some snuffles it was time for love poetry. it's your turn barfy burgers. says the patient. Ok "We was searching for the young soul rebels but the search got pitched on another level" ok your turn. "and we crushed so deep so wide so strong, all over the place and all day long"...We crushed so hard in the Carlos sky that we really thought we was going to die!" Hey wait a minute hold up... WE???? thats right, says the patient, you can't expect me to do this without backup, little brother.
Yeah but, see, I"m the doctor ok look its time to go to bed. We still have stuff to do tomorrow you know.
Yeah but this is carneval weekend I say we head to Bk and do damage.
No no see I say when we do damage not you. GOD, BLUE!! YOU ARE SUCH A POWER NERD!!!! HOLY SHEEEEEEEEEETTTTT well pass me a bottle of haze can u.
tell u what lets' go to bed, we'll tell stories. "ok."

"7 am. Several hours later, the "doctor patient" duo is seated at the table calmly chomping french toast, listening to shovels.
"which one is that?" said blue. I believe its Bob across the street. Yeah yeah, I think ur right. Snow falls softly outside the kitchen window.
want to go shovel, little brother? says the patient. whats the real question in your mind, says the clear eyed Blue. Well-why do you care so much about my shiz? I mean all I did was ask you to cheer up your buddy. On the real, what is all this?
All in good time, yoginanda, blue says kindly. I'll explain later but you have to realize, God cares about everyone exactly the same way.
Now come on, we have another day of labor ahead of us now.

4 am. Last evening the subject of the case study was feeling a bit strange, not being on the cell phone all day. The world seemed to be still.
the songs of PL (possibly Leon?) blended With Crush by dave Matthews and a mess of reggae and house as the "subject" of hte case study listened.
Why don't you write a love song, said blue suddenly. thats' crazy, I dont know how to do it. Look Im not a dj I keep telling you this. I dont know a lot of songs.
Just write a funny one then, said blue. It'll be good for easing some of hte javelin pain. Trust me. Well maybe I could do that, she conceded.
Suddenly in the beginning of "eartheaters" while going over the meaning of love song lyrics with Doctor blue, and preparing a comeback for the trolls which were sure to appear, the haze cloud overwhelmed the subject as completely as a big down puff that you bury yourself in on a staryy night, and she lost consciousness.
Waking up at four to the sound of Neighbor Bill shoveling his drive, and the snowplows motoring down the street, she said "I got it now". Let's hear it says Blue. Its really really lame. Come on let's hear it.
"I used to rule the world, seas would rise when I gave the word." no no thats the Leon paper, we're doing the love poem now."
oh yeah ok. Here it is. No music yet ok. "ok. Go."
I used to crush on guys named Tony, and they were all cooler than spumoni. But now I lost my appetite and I trip and trip and trip all night." not bad, says blue laughing uproariously. Is there a second verse?
Yeah, I think there is. I used to crush on guys named mike and hey I mean whats not to like? But now I say the name of a certain guy and blast off into a Santana sky.
Dare I ask for verse three? "I used to crush for an hour or two but now it never seems to be through, but come mock me not thou heavenly wizred or I shalt stick this javelin in thy gizzard.
Ok ok that's enough. No wait there is one more. I wrap myself in a big sugar puff and say now see that, that's the stuff. "Amen." says Blue.

To our loyal fans, we had a very calm and moon beam laden staff meeting where the moon could not compete with certain other luminaries (though the meeting was briefly interupted by somebody burning flapjacks and cursing about javelins) regarding the production of this series.
according to the advice of various intellectuals from some weird cosmic musical think tank who were in attendance, God only knows why, including but by no means limited to, Blue Jemz, D. musical psych. WTBS (the bs stsands for bachelor of Something, not sure what) Man Power, Superior Elevation, indeed a whole slew of Lot radio Djs, it's sometimes better not only to listen, but to plan before you post a podcast, no matter how loud your material may shout in your heart, or how high you may be floating at the time.
Yes we have a full storyboard, but it will be aired at night, time and weather permitting. This is customary for Mexican soap operas anyway, and will give the producers a chance to look it over. After all, it is for BJS' thesis.

.The following is only a hypothetical case study for a musical psychology class, and all resemblance to real life characters is PURE COINCIDENCE.
This whole story line is getting to resemble a latin soap opera, this is, dud complains to blue at close of day. I mean when is fufito gonna get iced? its just ridik.
Yeah but you're doing ok, I mean 33 pages, thats not too shabby, we're almost half done. And don't tell me you aren't feeling stronger...dumm dee dumm... Lately, I'm thinking, just knowing that the world is round, he hums a few bars of Crush by the original gangsta dave Matthews band. That's the song in your heart rn isn't it?
Yeha I mean like I say Im no disc jockey ok its all I heart radio ish in my head.
well we use what we got so...How does that go, dud?
And here I'm dancing on the ground, am I right side up or upside down and is this real?
Yeah see thats like Alex Band when he's like flying over the park, right? "well, yeah, sure if you want to put it that way" dud says. "I do want to put it that way.ok" says blue now we sit down and you tell me all the heart stuff ok. "train wreck of a doctor" dud grumbles. Come on , sweet cheeks. sit right here.

At the rehab house adjacent to the haze ward hospital, Blue is paying a visit to milk dud. dud, let's get going on the paper, he calls, its past nine for pete's sake. --what---??
Milk dud looks up, a steely glint in her eye. Never mind she says just go your way. Milk dud what is it?
I see whats up, Im being good, meanwhile you take away my gusto again will you you fleering train wreck of a doctor? (not a bad combination of words lol) Well no more games this time we goin Corleone style. yeah, sure you jacked my dynamite stash but while I was up in teh haze ward I learned how to make guava pit grenades so we all set. She bent over the homemade fruit bomb in total concentration. Gonna blow this mofo to jupiter just give me two minutes. say your prayers, DOCtor.
MILK DUD! shouts Blue. he whips out an emergency radio. Calling all haze trucks to point charlie, repeat ALL HAZE TRUCKS TO POINT chARLIE.

-musical psychology pathology analysis.
So not being a dj and not having a thousand million songs in my head for any occasion, this is the one that came to me last night, as a POTENTIALLY hypothetically appropriate explanation of what happens to pathetic lovestruck groupies or people that get inappropriately intoxicated on "some XXXXX ish" and make an idiotic spectacle of themselves and then throw tantrums and etc. Not me, cause I don't fall into those categories. Obviously not, says Blue. I'm totally together. This is just a case study. Obviously, says blue. So go ahead and link the song. hypothetical pathetic XXXXX groupie anthem.

Therapy with blue.
Therapy with blue.
ok so that danish stuff reminded me of Hamlet. So yeah whoever that was, nice going, I hope Blue is giving you a commission there homie lol like ching a ling like, idk millions and billions and gajillions $$$$
because it was 50-50 I wasn't even gonna hit up the chat yesterday but in the end I figured to just say hey. JAJAJAJAAJ

So O sweetcheeks, my love. Yes barfyburgers?
I handed in your eval so now we go on to phase two. What did Jah say about that?
He wants to know, Is it hard, not talking to all the XXXXXXXX? She rested her head on blue's shoulder.
Yeah, I guess so. Its, weird. But you know what though? -and she whispered the heart stuff into his ear.
yeah I get that. How'd you like the line up today? It was cool.
That Laksa doe got to love those accents, some kind of english or something. Yeah. I love how he was all "danish popping off in the chat"
yeah popping off, so great.
Hypnotic whatever is coming up at ten. listen, here's the new routine, says Blue. every night this is how we avoid insomnia ok you sit here, I sit here. Big hug--You tell me everthing in your heart just like we've been doing ok? You talk to me about everything, every single night and we'll figure it out ok.
I'm wearing an old shirt ok so if you need to cry, no worries.

o barfyburger my love dud calls with the affection only reserved for close friends. yes, sweet cheeks my boo boo? blue answers. what if these rippers find out u been criticizing their lifestyle? So whats the problem? blue wonders. well what if they come calling on you? Ah dud--im like -- kind of untouchable rn. well theres that dud agrees.
Therapy with Blue who has now imposed a deadline of one month fir one hundrrd pages in the thesis. yeahe.After jamming with Blue for hours to the wagon wheel tune (refrain is duds:shrink me papa like the wind and the rain/ shrink me papa like a javelin pain heyyyyy papa shrink me")this song also is not recirded. instead she finds herself removing whatsapp from phone because the whole damn situation needs to be overhauled.
the poultergeists really gonna show at ten? blue: why not wait and see? dud: what u cant tell me now? blue: i cant tell u everything ok dud just wait and see ok.
Therapy with Blue. cant explain.
Therapy with Blue evaluation hour.
Maybe partially because she was vaguely lit, Dud had decided that Blue was utterly cool, despite being a shrink and dogging her 24/7.
I know what you’re thinking, Blue grinned. You love me so bad.
Yeah ok its true. But there are issues with it, I mean, you drag me into your whole psychosis.
I beg your pardon?
I mean, you’re off the chain, homie. I mean, it’s bad enough you weary the living, but must you weary the dead? Trust me, get help.
Blue looked at her with a wry grin. Yeah, sure, milk dud. It’s on my list.
This whole therapy thing though its intense.
Yeah come here, big hug. So can you give me a good evaluation, seeing as how I’m being good and all.
You’re being good?
Well in a manner of speaking, I mean like poetic license and all. Who gets a copy of that eval anyways?
God, and such.
And such?
Yeah and such.
can I see? he handed it over.
“the patient is quite affectionate and friendly but given to tantrums and unseemly language. Cries, weeps, complains about javelins, ruins my shirts, alternates this behavior with name calling and bullshitting. Overall, shows considerable improvement but needs work.--BJ”

Therapy with Blue.The night was all full of the drunken dreams that come from drinking that concoction--it's like truth serum, dud reflected, its like you have to confess the truth.
After that session, dud didn't wake up until 630. 630?? "yeah" says blue. how do you feel?
the answer to this question can't be written down, at least not by me, at least not at this moment.
I'm sure the paper will have some new stuff in it though if you are interested in that.

This is Thursday and the song me and blue have been jamming to is that lalala song, he says Dud I want to hear your heart, gonna dog you till you can't hide no more.
And my line is, "Im just gonna lieee, gonna bullshit bullshit bullshit some more.
We jammed on that for hours, until I understood it better.
Can't record it though, because he is actually dogging me till I can't hide no more. I'ts musical psychology.
After being schooled over whatsapp by veterans of crush, jealousy and weeping wars, (who were glad to know that dud was not suffering from some blood borne disorder) and crying LIKE A BABY once again, Dud had fallen asleep reading the Leon paper and with a weird satisfaction that unlike most scholarly material, it didn't seem to be bullshit.
How did that happen, she wondered as she dozed off around one am.
545 am, she woke up to a smell she couldn't place...a heavenly irresistable smell that filled the air. Blue was holding a bowl of hot milk and sniffing it with satisfaction.
the smell was coming from that. what's that?
This my little friend is the stuff that got you so drunk in December.
No way. "way"--blue laughed, and you know what? I'm so proud of that paper I'm gonna give you a whole bowl of the stuff and it's not even going to knock you out.
Drink this--then keep on with the truth thesis, ok?
And do you not think dud drank the whole thing? YEAHHHHHHHHHH---And did not pass out after all.
And now we need to get back to work, articulating the truth. Come on.

This is just a message for everybody in case wondering whats up. I am not disappeared, nor dead.
IRL some people were worried about me and thought I was physically ill and ought to go to a doctor and get my blood tested (seriously, they did think this lol) because as a rule I never have trouble eating or sleeping. so I had to explain which before, I was too embarrassed to admit and that's another weird thing, usually Id ont get embarrassed about myself.
Whereas now I second guess things I say, I feel ashamed and its just bizarre.
God is doing whatever he's doing and I just have to endure it because, all these emotions and the suffering, WOW, are unfamiliar to me but the end result is, I can't really chat or make songs or jokes, its all about being honest and listening to the heart rn, and therapy with Blue.
so if I dont show up in chat, it's because I can't chat. weird aye. Also I have to think about the people in my life, and thats' why I shut down the IG account which i used to use for the Lot radio, and my phone is on hold rn too and some other stuff just while I think about a lot of things.
You guys are all OGs so just burn down the neighborhood like you always do, meanwhile I'll continue to cry and weep on BJS shirts at all hours of the night. And you say, therapy with the dead and I say, yeah, dont' ask me. God bless.


therapy with blue. dud woke up, dozed for a minute and checked the sky. the cell said 530. Blue? yeah right here. come on, big hug. you cant ruin my shirt--this has holes anyways. dud smooshed into blue and ruined the shirt again anyway. hugs with the dead guy-- what r u a padre pio wanna be? she snuuffled. I slept through again. yeah just tell me whats in your heart and you'll sleep like before.
the moon was covered in fog. will it snow again? maybe, he answered.
on the other side if the house the pink purple orange hung in the easyern sky over the sea an hour away by car.

Musical pysch sessions. so why can I not talk like before? your heart is talking now and im listening.

The Gods Honest Truth part two. dud awakes and its already 515 am. the full moon as beautiful as ever,is setting behind the rooftop of the house next door. wow i slept all night?yeah you finally were up front with me thats why. fir real? yeah -bj is scribbling notes. whats that says dud. this is all part of my paper, blue grins. my hypothesus checjs iut. you really cant code that well on your cell at 5 am. tou know dud-i m gonna stay right here so no fear ok?

The Gods' honest Truth. After ham sammiches and tall cold glasses of milk, dud sits with her head on Blues shoulder, weeping like the blue Nile and whispering the Gods Honest Truth into his compassionate ear. every so often she wipes her nose on his shirt. well at least we got the truth now, Blue says, surveying the damage to his haberdash., Never really liked that shirt anyhow.

5 am and Blue and dud are deep into a session, having only paused to eat flapjacks and syrup. So tell me about htese bodyguards. Bodyguards? Yeah, these decimators and rippers and whatnot. "hypothetically". Sure, hypothetically So How does it go.
"well say somebody want to toot around someplace in safety so they hire some guy some jarhead or SEAL or special ops or whatever. "OK, go on."
the client pays the jarhead or the ripper a good rate and he can pursue any girl he feels like pursuing and do whatever he wants all day, the only thing they have to do is that if someone hassles the client, the client gets to say that they are with the ripper and point him out to the hassler.
So then what. "well most of the time, the ripper turns out like super macho so he thinks he has to put the move on EVERY girl including the client." So it gets ugly. "yeah, exactly." Ok, dud. "you get that?" sure I do. U think u could rest for a little bit now?

2:45 am. Dud wakes up. The air outside is cold and sweet but the moon is no longer visible. did it snow? she asks Blue. "Not really. How's the javelin situation?" "Idk, feels like maybe 30 or so."
Let's do some more talking, says blue. "but I already talked a lot to XXXXX yesterday afternoon. Anyways, aren't you sick of listening to all this?" nope, not at all. that's my job and we need to do this.
Talk therapy with the deceased. You have to admit its an odd concept, I mean what's your hourly rate? You can't take it with you. "there's stranger things than that, come on, let's walk and talk."

Music psych sessions. Dud was jonesing to trade more insults and waited for the right softball. The moon sure is beautiful, said Blue. It always makes me feel better somehow.
"What a load of psychoautomatic huey, u amateur discontented bozo", dud sneered. "I had five javelins in me yesterday, now we're up to seventeen".
I'll see you and raise you to 22. And by the way, That's psychosomatic, blue corrected.
"nawwaint, its automatic that you're a psycho. I'm not as dumb as you look. "so hows that paper coming?"
Why dont you go write a paper, you blowhard? (good comeback, she grinned.) Actually, Im writing a paper on you right now. A post doctoral thesis on pathetic (redacted) groupies, just need to tweak a few footnotes and should be ready, whereas it seems you only have twelve pages and they havent even been proofread yet.

Rosencranzt and Gildenstern might not be dead after all, (this is a line from a Gilbert and Sullivan operetta which comes from Shakespeare, its just one of those things people say sometimes, Rosencrantz and Gildenstern are dead. I forget what it is all about at this moment, but remember how Nietzche said, God is dead, we were into that before.)
I don't know what Gildenstern is, so google it if you wish, I think gilder is money, but Rosencrantz is the Rosary, and it may be significant that I offered a Franciscan crown to BJ on Thursday, his fourth month anniversary, so that he could wear it if possible and be covered in graces.
And now he showed me the meaning of the seven Ls: corresponding to the seven mysteries of that prayer. It sounds strange and crazy and it doesnt comfort me at all, tbh, but here it is for whatever it is worth.
LOT, the announcement (St Gabriel is the patron of communications). LEON, the translation, the way to go and tell the people the message after you hear it. LAVA, the energy of the birth of Christ in the earth.
LOST, after the magi came, the Holy family were "lost" in Egypt which is what happens to us all at times. Number Five, the angel brought them back to Israel after the death of Herod.
LOVE. which is stronger than death, resulting in the resurrection
and LISTEN, which is what the Queen of Heaven tells you to do.

After struggling with the concepts of power, sex and money in Leon, the Professional for some while, Milk dud was able to sleep at least until the sky was the palest blue. Which had not happened in a long time. The old familiar feeling of rolling up in the covers while looking out at the fading stars was back. Bj was sitting calmly in a chair by the door,drinking hot milk.
He came over and sat on the bed. Feel better? Yeah, sorta kinda. "Why not say this in a more refined manner?" I feel somewhat recovered, thank you, doctor.
There is nothing wrong with being intelligent and well spoken. So let's work on the musical pharmacology now. You know you've already studied it so don't pretend you haven't. Let's inhibit the uptake of tranquility, so to speak--tell me what's in your heart.
"no point". Tell me anyways" "it hurts." "tell me anyway." "Im gonna cry all over your shirt and mess it all up". "tell me anyways." Its a total mess." little tears snuffed down her cheeks. "tell me anyway." You never even met me irl, you dont know me". "yes, I do." "You wouldn't understand".
"Dud, he said. He reached out, his hand was pure love. Look at me. His eyes were deep and beautiful, like Jesus, the kind of eyes only people who suffer well have. "yes, I would."
But Im not like you, BJ you're holy. Plus I'm too shy to say it. "So just say it in my ear then, just whisper". "Ok"

Having been peaceable and cooperative, even obedient, the ugly rebellious side of Milk dud rose up. She stormed back to bj.
You think you got me to do that? You know what, just exactly who in Fabuzzo do you think you are?
Beg your pardon?
You think you're all that dont you, you piffling little musical psychologist. I'm sick of the pain rn, got it? OW OW it hurts, got it? (this she says, to someone who died of cancer.) How about Musical bullshit? Huh how about a whole big honking load of musical bullshit? How does that grab ye, perfessir?
Milk dud, please, dont' make me haze you now.
How about your psychology degree tosses me over some pain pills and go dancing down the street right now, little brother? how about BOOM, the haze cannon went off. And all was black.
Tough case, said bj reflectively. You can say that again, --it was one of hanks favorite sayings. care for an ice cream cone? dud hasn't been eating em for weeks.
As the two chomped meditatively on peanut dooleys, the sun rose.

After a night of quiet insomnia, quiet only because tantrums were absent, but full of conversation and javelins, there was a lull.
U awake BJ? y eah, sure, came the reply.
can't you just give me some more medicine and let me sleep?
No, we need to work some right now. What's the question.
You know the question in my heart. Its not like its a new question. 'So say it anyway".
Ok: what's the point of acting intelligent if it just leads to wars and insanity?
Yeah, what is the point?
What's the point of anything?
what about Bob? (from the movie what about bob, not biker bob).
Ok so what would Pasolini say about that? All that false progress versus real progress. Let me suggest something to you, dud. You have to be honest with your mind just like you have to be honest with your heart. Now go ahead and add to that list of books.
While Hank takes a break from dud's continuing insomnia, there is a conversation going on between BJ and dud but they are actually too tongue-tied to share it. Or rather, dud is too shy, and can't really write it down.

On the banks of the blue nile, milk dud was scribbling notes about French cinema and its relationship to just about anything, while underwater, Blue Jemz and angel Hank had learned to talk through the water from Aquaman's crew (amazing who you bump into sometimes).
so how did you end up here, Blue? said Hank
Some whale spat me out in here, I was in his stomach for a while with Pinocchio and Jonah-- it was weird, answered BJ. I thought angels knew that stuff anyway.
Yeah, we don't know everything, Hank explained. Like what exactly did you do to Milk dud? She's off the chain, she's up all night drivng me crazy and she doesnt talk half as much and she made this food she never cooked before, I mean, stay away!

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