empathy

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Have you heard of rock'n'roll? Yes. Then you know who I am.

Allergies are such shitty genetic hand-me-downs. If I could I would take these genes and hide them in a huge slice of steak and feed it to a starving liger. Then when the liger shat it out, I would toss grenades all over that muck. Sometimes when i get a sneeze attack I get mad possessed and perform this shitty dance, as if some demons had a grudge about me. My allergies were tame at one point and I would only sneeze when i looked up at the sky or at the sun (soo bad for you). Now if I look at some guy walking on the street or if I look at a post it i'll just rapid fire that shit man and there's shrapnel everywhere!! i remember when I was 8 I was in a field chasing this chihuahua that stole my cookie and my body was like "hey, watch out for that pollen you idiot!" and i had to rub my eyes so I did for like 5 minutes. Then that wet flesh part of the corner eye started growing and growing until it fucking covered my pupils!! My body fucking blinded itself!! That's fucked up man. It goes away pretty easy with ice though but i had to play Marco Polo to get to it and that was weak.

If I ever get a camera, i'm gonna try to capture that calm before the storm, right before you explode yucky mucus. I swear, the faces humans make are fantastic!! Most people look like a kid about to cry after they just got whooped. Some look like they just caught their mom getting boned by Steve Buscemi. It looks crazy, but it's so REAL. An even more bananas act is the act of fighting a sneeze with your face. That makes you look like you feel when a rancher brands your buttocks.

I bet I can sneeze with my eyes open if i clockwork orange my stuff.

It's all about Naan and coconut curry

Today took my car to the doctor and had some free time to cash in so i skipped to the park...people don't know how to react when they see someone skipping and if i saw someone skipping i would sing a line in a song to the beat of the feet. When i got to the park i placed my body under a tree and faced this massive human-made fountain. I tried reading a book but this pair of ducks started sauntering at me and we stared at each other for a while. They took waddle after waddle and came within less than one foot of me i thought i might have been chilling in their spot or something because they looked like they had some business with me. Instead they just waddled around me in circles. Circle after circle I attempted to decode their communication style but i couldn't get it. They waddled away and they were boyfriend and girlfriend.

i don't know what the duck's primary skill is. They aren't really professional anythings. Are they muses? Or jesters? I couldn't figure it out. I thought all animals had primary skills. Like the hummingbird has professional stealth skills and they can maneuver in linear fashions that look sick as fuck. Actually i guess the duck has social skills. I bet ducks are smooth operators and can woo other ducks into joining their clubs.

This made me think about innate skills in humans. I think that when humans are built, there's this lottery they unconsciously play and they end up with a miscellaneous primary skill, one's that'll never be improved if others impose on them. For example, I was a siiick ass prodigy pianist when i was 6 years alive. I like skipped a couple learning levels and starting playing classics by ear at recitals with adults. Then I stopped going to class because my teacher was this ancient chinese pro who learned and taught the ancient way...she hit my hands with a ruler when i fucked up and she was crazy! I guess that's why my mom plucked me out, she thought I was being abused or something. She couldn't teach me. I got it naturally man...like if you look at an ear of corn or a mango you already know how to cope with it, you eat around the soul. This whole lesson's like this old chinese proverb that I heard Amy Tan spit one time, how you can't save a fish from drowning because well, it will die if you do.

Also at the park was this fogey who was running around the fountain and he was a sensation because his feet were faster than his body...like this bloke was top-heavy the way roadrunner is about to blitz and his upper body stays put as his feet jam out. It was boss. I was sure he was tipping over backwards.

Unrelated is something a friend told me, how there's this cartoon about a guy who was a badass thief...he stole the Eiffel Tower using four balloons Holy shit!!!! I wish something amazing like that happened once in a while...proving the impossible.

Frankenstein should be in a jazz band

this afternoon i didn't work. i decided to lay about my couch and catch up on all the albums i half listened to on my computer and the vinyl albums i've stared at, the one's that have dusted covers and pictures of musicians with long unkempt hair parading in some off-beat sunlight. i don't know why but there are albums i have looked at forever and have only enamored the images on the covers...never played... yet have such an imagination about the life behind them. i listened and they were all like mystery sandwiches characterized with all sorts of competing flavors and brave ingredients. i discovered something...i discovered that there are these many platitudes of advice and deprecation from these artists that seem so trite and so manufactured and so PREPARED. I used prepared very expertly because the lyrics fall too easily in place. I believe this is the folly of two things. Rhyme and Recording. When these artists rhyme, they suffocate the full expression, if there really is one. I know rhyme has its functional genius and serves as draino to the song's pipes but it also contaminates the purity of expression. And here's the thing about the recording process. When artists record their albums in the studio, there's lots of pressure to focus on timing, recording dynamics and all that jazz. This steals from the moment or really getting into the song. Very rarely do i hear the angst or the wavering voice of someone like Cat Power or Joni Mitchell or Bjork for fuck sake. Now thats what it's about. I know there's a bajillion reasons to make songs but when did sincerity and EMOTIONAL CONTENT become renounced as the backbone of a song. When was the last time we heard a raw ass recording with minimal takes and minimal processing? I would rather hear a musician who lacks vocal intelligence but sings from ultimate pain then hear some American Idol crock. So much of music is about being cool now and the fucking six dollar haircut and the rocking out. So much music is caught up in the world of cool it's sad as shit.

i also went outside for a bit and looked at the sky for a while and the bugs milling about in the soil. They look busy as usual. I noticed two trees...one was in the shade and one was not. I also noticed myself bringing more attention to the tree in the sun, as it looked holier i guess you could say. Today i supposed I noticed that i'm not as dark inside as i was say for the last couple of years. I've changed and have become lighter inside, more inclined to brightness and candor...less apocalyptic and this is nice to know. So to mark this day i'm going to the store and getting a pot with soil....and inside i'll place a really swell looking feather because the wind will be it's puppeteer...because it will remind me how there's life behind everything and if you notice that, then you'll be on the brighter side of things.

Keep my whiskers to the sun

When it's 4 in the morning I wanna be like the 12 spotted domino that for some reason looks like it tips over easier than the other ones. I want to be like this because the domino looks peaceful and most things look peaceful when they're pushing up daisies. Also the domino doesn't have knees. I do and they keep me up at night. My knees like to show off their free will and when they contemplate, I bet they contemplate hard! I bet they call themselves "The Law" and "Justice" and romance about belonging to some badass muy thai legend, who DESTROYS fools in the jaw and flying knees the shit outta abdomens. My knees aren't exactly like that but the'yre fucking EVERYWHERE when i'm just trying to catch some REM so get PISSED about all of that man. After letting this thought marinate a bit, I've come to the conclusion that my body is having night time withdrawals from cat spooning. I used to sleep with Kyoto all the time and I'd be KO'ed quick style. I miss Kyoto so much it's starting to get to me. I need her back soon. This morning I was thinking about her and made up a sweet move, entirely inspired by her fighting style. It's called "Kyoto's pounce" and may only be performed after something serendipitous goes down.

Kyoto attacks with the style of these two psychos COMBINED. First is the warning shuffle like you're gripping the earth with your digits as hard as you can so as for maximum thrust hence maximum damage. Then you pause a second and stare the target in the soul. Then you release the fucking demon and fuck shit up! I've got the moves diagramed kinda.

First you start off in a run of the mill badass stance, like nothing's important because if something gets important, you will kick it's ass out of simple reaction.

Then something equivalent to a simultaneous 5,000 penguin bellyslide happens and you FLIP the fuck out. So you get all this energy and in a counterclockwise direction, rotate the "L" of your elbows while your back descends slowly and you squat a little.

Lastly you spring up with the height parallel to the level of happiness and if anything above you gets in the way, it will get a brand new asshole. Even if a ninja gets in the way somehow, it will be DESTROYED no matter what.

Kyoto's pounce.
Inspired by a tabby.

for the sahara mollusk

a tunnel crowded tunnel vision,
smoke spilled on soiled shirts,
time taking time to hit the presses,
inside i organize honest verse.

clutching tight to the pain and plight,
plowing down my callused knight,
a seething throng of Abaddon,
levied an afternoon delight.

i hush get blind let a lotus bloom
open-palmed mad poised a sovereign heart
under full moon i plant mad blessings
to the tunnel abject i will impart

stars made of right index fingers

today i was romancing about alternate universes and how they are theoretically probable...and how these alternate universes may be a hoot if they were only slightly modified from the ones we live in today...like instead of humans being clueless as to the true state of being another human may be existing in, they could be granted with some sort of OBVIOUS and ON-PURPOSE indication...like if in place of our hearts was this slightly hazy projection of an image that would precisely reflect the emotional or mental state we were in...for example if i was angry because i accidentally put rosemary instead of cumin seeds into this dish and it came out all tastefully challenged, in my heart, there would be a little projection of a yorkshire terrier getting kicked in the throat. yah it's kind of over the top but its sincere, unprovoked by intention, and way way more susceptible to empathy because well...we could SEE the metaphor and see that, oh, he feels like a terrier getting kicked in the throat, poor guy.

another alternate universe slightly different from this one would be if we all turned dramatic shades of the infinite crayon box that of course visually articulated our emotions. our instincts would be largely affected by this occurrence. we would all eat shit at poker, fall more into genuine love, and be more understanding of others. a certain and obvious shade of green would be envy, blue of course sorrow, red would be anger and so forth. but what if we were seized by constant fear like richard pryor was and we became transparent? also, i wonder what color ambivalence would represent?

one more alternate universe would be this microcosm that bugs live in...what if instead of the bugs it was us as humans living on the scale that bugs lived in...i looked at the backyard for a while and pictured myself within this fucking jungle of a lawn...and thought holy shit these blades of grass are enormous!!! this flower....is fucking.....huge!!!! domesticated animals???!!! more like godzillas that could squish us forever!!! FORTUNATELY this is not so and fortunately the film "Fantastic Planet'" was invented. I believe this film aptly dictates this universe. The soundtrack also punches through cement.

La Planete Sauvage (Fantastic Planet) 1973
Director: Rene Laloux

you can't sneak up on ninjas, it's impossible

i got down and SLICED up the rug at this spot called cardiff lounge because of miguel miggs and julias papp, thanks guys. while i was doing so, this unicorn was there and seeing her was like the first time i did acid...which when had occurred, revealed a titanic scissor causing the white or yellow perforations on the freeway !.....and usually when time jumps into the bushes like this, whatever song was playing BECOMES the soundtrack to that person and that time...at least for me but definitely always. the song that was playing was superstar by k-os...and this song is constipated when your sitting down but when dancing, it's a fucking steak marinated in don perignon. i couldn't believe how ill she was and how illl i was dancing (not to be miles davis but its how i feel) and it was perfect. i knew my skills were fresh as fuck because these girls started dueting on me and i was all daaaaaang this is siiiick....so me and lady barbarella were like eagle eyes all night but nothing fucking leveled up...although she was at voodoo lounge when i went to see victor duplaix, only by testament of a friend but i never saw her....ANYWAY after this had all bled out i put a period on the fact that there is this certainty...that there is a PERFECT song for the perfect instance in time for the perfect person. so to spread some leaves about this i'll bring about some examples....also canucks and tapioca are my two new favorite words. it means canadian. (werd)

---{ SIX PERFECT SONGS FOR ENTERING A ROOM OR GATHERING ]---

1. Dave Brubek - Take Five

shit man all i feel is cigars and having maaaad aces up my sleeves...if this song played every time i entered the room it'd be all GAME OVER.

2. Booker T & the Mg's - Green Onions

i'm madly in love with this track. It belongs in a dugout somewhere in chicago but also when i fucking struuuut into the bar like a bookie to get my monies for my horse "blueberry oozie" winning the race 15 to 1

3. The Champs - Tequila

This song has been covered so many times but i dig the way these guys say tomato. But...the reason why this song is so boss is because if EVERYONE ALWAYS got up and felt compelled to do the twist when they saw you then it's all apple pie man.

4. The Cure - Six Different Ways

Every time I hear this i think....i'm totally silly sneaking in right now but... i'm just going to crack the fuck up and blow my cover because this is completely ridiculous.....thats what this song means.

5. Stevie Wonder - Hey Love

This is going to be waaay to sappy and corny but I always figured this song would be playing if you were dripping in love with someone and they suddenly and expertly walked out the grocery store with an ice cream cone and caught your eye and started, what would be, the longest and slowest developed smile in the history of smiles. Geez..

6. Young Holt Limited - Soulful Strut

Okay....this song is for AFTER you win something...anything...just winning and being all fuck yeah i'm number one! That's it im done.

stevie wonder and ray charles had it made BECAUSE they were blind

maaaaan......sometimes shit's like going back home, into your old room, expecting to see that same old jefferson airplane poster there on the wall, a little haggard and faded, yet finding that it's not those fucks looking at you in some hexagonal, korean, upward angle shot but some yellow, umgo fruit wallpaper that makes you think...."snozberries...that shit's real !?!"

everything i touch turns into skittles

lately i've been having these coming of age episodes which take place mostly before i go to sleep. this isn't so odd or uncommon i suppose but it's worth noting because like i've supertitioned for quite a while now, we as thinkers and amateur analysts of our lives are at times most brilliant in the wee hours, which is to also say completely clueless when we gather ourselves in the morning. but now i feel compelled to note this because i fall in love with genuine sensations of self-understanding and the sensation that though there may exist this chaos so stifling, our spirit is still treading and still struggling to bloom as closer to the sun as it can despite backward tendancies, despite discouraging forces and excuses to back off of efforts to surprise ourselves or truely live the path of a spirit with an aching charisma.

a recent epiphany that i have probably already captured in my net is the idea of a life timeline, how this relates to at least our perception of how fulfilled we are or how things are relative to how we want them to be, such as where we are spiritually, goal orientation, how deep our relationships are with others, our involvement in the world, how much our skills have developed and even the superficial matters like what we own and how we look. But more so, the focus is how (hypothesis induced) we tend to ebb and flow through these different combinations and different levels of satisfaction/fulfillment in patterns and also in slow waves. You could denominate these levels or displacements by year, month, whatever. The thing is that looking back, it's effortless to be able to study the design of how much I had this year or how fucked up things were this year and so forth. However looking at the present and though forecasting the future, it's almost like we know what will happen and believe that slowly the up and down will balance out again but we can't see it. I think we can feel it though but I could be misinterpreting these feelings for anticipated excitement. Whatever the feeling, it's preferred and reassuring that at least through all this muck, there is this hope in balance, this however mincy squint of a hope that shit always finds its way to a refinery and works out. I like this feeling.