on halloween the children dream

of all the treats they'll get

in costumes sweet with empty bags

into the world they're sent

we tell them, stay within our street

you need not go too far

for m&m's and candy corn

and tiny payday bars

but stray not near the vacant lots

where evil souls unite

forsaking light for darker things

temptations of the night

like flavored vape and alcopop

and dope that one injects

and fentanyl that's colored bright

and wicked anal sex

10/9/2024

Sarah Doty opened the waiting-room door and asked the seated young man if he was Eddie Xu. Eddie nodded affirmatively, and Sarah motioned for him to come into her office.

Sarah was a psychotherapist. Like all psychotherapists, her approach was eclectic; she dabbled in all the great ones: CBT, ACT, DBT, ... However, Sarah's personal favorite, her professional identity, if you will, was unconditional positive regard as espoused by Carl Rogers. Basically she listened, without judgement, and nudged her patients to keep talking, irrespective of what they said.

Sarah asked Eddie to sit in the reclining chair next to the bookshelf. Sarah sat down on a more formal chair about six feet in front of him.

Eddie immediately noticed an entire shelf of popular books on Eastern philosophy. There was an electric waterfall on the top shelf and a dreamcatcher hanging above it. Eddie began to get annoyed. He quickly shifted his position on the chair as well as his gaze.

When Sarah noticed Eddie's fidgeting, she asked if he felt comfortable.

"Yeah," Eddie lied.

After introducing herself briefly, Sarah asked Eddie what he'd like to talk about.

Eddie said, "Well... The internet. I spend so much time... Why do I spend so much time on the internet? Sometimes I just refresh my feeds over and over. I don't even like most of it. But I can't stop. I come up with plans to stop and I stick with it for a day or two. But then I'm back at it. I've done searches for help. Others write they have the same problem. But no ideas. Yesterday I went to the park, thinking I'd get outside and away. I wanted to climb a fence just to do something real. But I sat on a bench. Then I pulled out my phone again, like everyone else. I don't know how to..."

Eddie paused, not knowing what to say next.

Sarah held an open notebook in her lap. She made a quick note and then asked Eddie how his behavior made him feel.

Eddie replied, "I feel like a lab animal, like I'm programmed to do this, like everything in life is fake, like I'm fake...."

As Eddie continued, Sarah looked down at the iPhone she held at the bottom of her open notebook. She resumed browsing her Facebook feed, looking up at Eddie from time to time, nodding affirmatively as he spoke.

François Moreau, though two seconds from ejaculating, had descended into the throes of indecision and self-loathing. The idea of bringing new life into this cruel and dying world tormented him beyond measure, but he knew that if he pulled out now, he would forever lose the only woman he had ever truly loved.

The head seedsman allowed my mother to return, though she came back with me, an uncharted sperm sown by a distant seedsman from a faraway field.

When I broke through the soil in my new patch, standing taller and leaner than the sprouts that had come before me, I heard the townsfolk whisper, "It's not for lack of sun; he's of bad seed."

But now I know the truth: those murmurs were the rustling of weeds.