November 30, 2006
Cheers, jack russel terrier
At an intersection corner, i saw a dog postin up looking at the stars. The walk sign went up and I heard chirps. The dog looked left and right, then waddled patiently across the street to the other side and continued to walk down the sidewalk. I almost shit my pants.
November 12, 2006
Fuggetaboutit
I now have control to validate my own prowess and sexuality, and it's not dependent on anyone else's approval. I now know that women all appreciate and adore different qualities. I know that many enjoy traditional qualities in men, ones that have perpetuated gender stereotypes and all the bullshit that goes along with it. Well, I am a sensitive male. I possess many many traditionally labeled feminine qualities. I am mistaken for homosexual by members of both genders. I am emotionally free so fuck all that other shit. I'm not saying fuck you to the girls that didn't get that about me because it's not their fault, kinda. But i'll say fuck you to the girls that did get that about me and thought that there was something wrong with me. Fuuuuuuuuuuuck you very much. This feels great. Why did this take so long? WHY!!!!!???
In other news, the people of Fiji. Fijians, a food-loving society who enjoyed eating and believed that fleshy-looking bodies were attractive for both genders. In fact, when these people would get thinner, they would recieve a slice of bullshit pie. Now............in 1995 TV stations started to broadcast Beverly Hills 90210 and Melrose place...and then 3 years later the Fijian women developed eating disorders because of harsh dieting and stupid american bullshit like that...Fuuuuuuuuuck you very much American TV, you guys fucked up something beautiful. This is sad.
In other news, the people of Fiji. Fijians, a food-loving society who enjoyed eating and believed that fleshy-looking bodies were attractive for both genders. In fact, when these people would get thinner, they would recieve a slice of bullshit pie. Now............in 1995 TV stations started to broadcast Beverly Hills 90210 and Melrose place...and then 3 years later the Fijian women developed eating disorders because of harsh dieting and stupid american bullshit like that...Fuuuuuuuuuck you very much American TV, you guys fucked up something beautiful. This is sad.
November 06, 2006
CMJ Music Marathon
So i blew back into long beach yesterday and i be cheery as fuck to be back here...except for a week i was bundled in this anti 30 degree outfit and it being a 92 degree day here made me want to rabbit punch the sun in the face...being in the wind and having my fingers, nose, cheeks and toes numbed was such a pleasure...i'll miss you Coldy Hawn, you were so kind to me.
Being away from my lifestyle and in Manhattan was so called for...i had to chop some habits into pieces and it worked...but i was drunk and smoking the whole time i was conscious and my wallet was pissed off. Sue me...wait don't do that we need each other. I'm sorry for the abuse. I'll seek help!
-----------------TUESDAY------------------
--The plane ride was tre lame. I was stationed between two oversized guidos that sweated all the way there, i think, because they were sweating before i feel asleep, which was the whole time, and after i woke up. It was then that i realized it is very possible to acquire the stench of someone you haven't even touched.
--Took the Air Train to the A, then took that all the way to Manhattan on 34th to the Chelsea Star Hotel. I should have realized by the title that this was going to be some bullshit because Chelsea is one of the worst names in the galaxy and Star Hotel is sooooo implied of its alleged grandeur, like calling yourself cool and stuff.
--Got there the jersey girl at the desk wouldn't let me check in because it was five hours too early and I'm a fucking zombie so i had to wake up and burn some time.
--I hop on the E train and fall asleep until i'm awoken by the "conductor" telling me to get the fuck off and go somewhere else. I'm deep into Brooklyn at this point.
--I go back to Manhattan and since it took me like 35 minutes! Then I get off near NYU and pour into the record shops. This shit was so boss!
--Get a call from a friend who was already in Manhattan and we meet up, get our badges and check out some booths. They were all lame upstart busineses except this company who are run by these crazy audiologists. Apparently they developed a system where they take an EEG of the brain and somehow read the frequencies, beta waves, and blah blah blah. This reading shows the default frequency response of the brain (which i was told is completely different for everyone), which is then used to create songs that work in conjuction with these readings. Basically, these guys developed songs that produce a relationship which causes the individual to fall asleep. It looked, smelled, and sounded like sincerity but i'll need to research this summore.
--We attend a panel discussion with the likes of Janeane Garofalo, Public Enemy Co-Founder Chuck D, Grammy Winner Steve Earle, and others. They discussed the responsibility of politics in music. It was deep.
- I go back to the hotel to check in because I'm still to tired. I get to check in finally. The room had 10 bunks, no kitchen, red carpet, puke colored walls, and that's about it. I took a shower and forgot that i had no towel. They didn't provide towels, soap, shampoo, nothing. I dried myself with a t-shirt and toilet paper for the whole trip.
--I wake up and everybody else gets to the hotel. We all go out to eat at this diner. When we finish I get drunk and start doing this out the window to passerbys, who react this way.
--We all split up into teams and we kind of do this the whole trip depending on what bands we wanted to see. My team grooved to the Bowrey Ballroom to see The Rapture. I never really listen to them, but they were mad spanky and spanked the shit out of the speakers. The drums were all 4/1 but there were so many fills that i wanted to dance, so i did.
-----------------WEDNESDAY------------------
--Wake up late and eat Brunch at a Diner
--Go to Central Park to see shit and the locals. We stumble across the John Lennon Memorial Tile or something and I wan't impressed one bit. The park on the other hand was like the Backyard of the Orgasm Mansion. The leaves were bright yellow!!! There were geese and for some reason a bunch of baby humans. There were trails that forked into other forks. There was an escape from the bustle. There was a recently married couple It was depressingly romantic.
--We make our way to the "Met" or the Metropolitan Museum. You store a couple of blue whales in there. I "donated" a dollar to get in. Suhweet.
--Eat a pizza and then try to see Cold War Kids and Tapes n' Tapes but get shut the fuck down by the bouncers because they were at max capacity. Fuuuckin lame. So we say fuck that and go to some other bar and I get--->6 whiskey sours, 2 shots of Beam, a shot of Dewars, try to finish a Budweiser and fail. I go the hotel to sleep and wake up the next morning with a headache the size of the end of the world, then puke so hard that i get a pimple or something weird on my face. It's gone now but it looked ugly.
-----------------THURSDAY------------------
--Wake up with puke on my shirt and in my throat.
--Go back to sleep for a couple of hours and wake up. Get ready to go to the MOMA. Get there too late and buy this penguin finger puppet. Look look at it for a second and go back to buy another one.
--We head out to Time Square and it was most difficult to walk in a straight line. I got elbowed, hustled, and shouted at like 50 times after only 6 blocks. We find out that the show we wanted to see was located right across the street and we we like fuck yah, so we eat at Applebees and order appetizers because everything is marked up at least $15. We get accosted by this dude named Bill who has no teeth and he rambles on about being in the war. At the end of our conversation, he says "Oh and I'm gay." He leaves and says "hello again" at least 6 times. We pay our bill and lickety split.
--We go across the street to B.B. Kings to the fucking Stones Thow Chrome Mix Tour. Saw Percee P, Medaphor, Georgia Ann. Muldrow, Oh no, J Rocc, Aloe Blacc, Peanutbutter Wolf, and Mudder Effin Madlib!!!!!!! PB Wolf was scratching DVDs of early 90's music videos and he had the crowd by the balls. I was dissapointed with Madlib because he did only 4 songs. He was so fucked up and I got mad about that. Percee and Aloe were all killin it. They each did only 20 min sets and that was smart.
--We end up in a pub across the street of the hotel. I order a few drinks and before I attempt to close my tab, i find out that i have Alejandro Hernandez' atm card and not my credit card. Later i find out that my card was RACKED with additional charges...i fixed it though the next day.
-----------------FRIDAY------------------
--Go to Sojo and eat this double stacked burger with crazy good fries
--Look around and get jealous that all the stuff it my taste but more expensive than my plane ticket
--Go to the Sam Ash in Time Square and bang the drums for an hour
--Go across the street from Sam Ash to this grocery store where they serve all this soul food...end up eating like 6 pieces of fried chicken and getting really fucking tired
--Go home and knock out for an hour
--Go to see Apples in Stereo and Architecture in Helsinki. Apples in stereo sounded like U2, which made this couple hold each other back and forth like those punching clowns that never fall down no matter how hard you knock em out. AIH was a bunch of friends rocking the fuck out. It was super.
-----------------SATURDAY------------------
--This is the last day here and i'm ready to squeeze out all my needs from this city. So we make our way to the MOMA and it's a little bigger than the one in San Fransisco. This time i put on my headphones and i found that music supplements the ability to be more receptive to the art because it stimulates the mind and therefore allows...well...it's better with music.
--I take a shot of Jameson to help me walk in the cold
--We get back to the subway and my friend didn't have his metro pass so we, according to the ticket, were "doubling up on the turnstile." I swiped my card and both of us went through, yet do our dismay, was a football sized camera supervising our moves. We got tapped on the shoulder on the way to the E, were taken to the NYPD quarters in the subway station and that was lame. But we were laughing the whole time. I wanted to buff my shoes because they had a shoe buffer.
--Go to this sushi joint across the street and order the spider roll, 2 orders of spicy tuna, 3 asahi's and feel like cookie monster. I want to smile. I smile.
--Get back to the hotel then I drink a bottle of french wine to myself. It taste's like water. I get trashed. We head out to the CMJ Marathon closing party and sing "smalltown girl" in the Karaoke room. Dominated the Karaoke!!! Then we dance to some 2000 commercial hip hop which was okay.
--We pack when we get back, all drunk, and cranky because we gots to catch the flight. I don't sleep. That's it.
Being away from my lifestyle and in Manhattan was so called for...i had to chop some habits into pieces and it worked...but i was drunk and smoking the whole time i was conscious and my wallet was pissed off. Sue me...wait don't do that we need each other. I'm sorry for the abuse. I'll seek help!
-----------------TUESDAY------------------
--The plane ride was tre lame. I was stationed between two oversized guidos that sweated all the way there, i think, because they were sweating before i feel asleep, which was the whole time, and after i woke up. It was then that i realized it is very possible to acquire the stench of someone you haven't even touched.
--Took the Air Train to the A, then took that all the way to Manhattan on 34th to the Chelsea Star Hotel. I should have realized by the title that this was going to be some bullshit because Chelsea is one of the worst names in the galaxy and Star Hotel is sooooo implied of its alleged grandeur, like calling yourself cool and stuff.
--Got there the jersey girl at the desk wouldn't let me check in because it was five hours too early and I'm a fucking zombie so i had to wake up and burn some time.
--I hop on the E train and fall asleep until i'm awoken by the "conductor" telling me to get the fuck off and go somewhere else. I'm deep into Brooklyn at this point.
--I go back to Manhattan and since it took me like 35 minutes! Then I get off near NYU and pour into the record shops. This shit was so boss!
--Get a call from a friend who was already in Manhattan and we meet up, get our badges and check out some booths. They were all lame upstart busineses except this company who are run by these crazy audiologists. Apparently they developed a system where they take an EEG of the brain and somehow read the frequencies, beta waves, and blah blah blah. This reading shows the default frequency response of the brain (which i was told is completely different for everyone), which is then used to create songs that work in conjuction with these readings. Basically, these guys developed songs that produce a relationship which causes the individual to fall asleep. It looked, smelled, and sounded like sincerity but i'll need to research this summore.
--We attend a panel discussion with the likes of Janeane Garofalo, Public Enemy Co-Founder Chuck D, Grammy Winner Steve Earle, and others. They discussed the responsibility of politics in music. It was deep.
- I go back to the hotel to check in because I'm still to tired. I get to check in finally. The room had 10 bunks, no kitchen, red carpet, puke colored walls, and that's about it. I took a shower and forgot that i had no towel. They didn't provide towels, soap, shampoo, nothing. I dried myself with a t-shirt and toilet paper for the whole trip.
--I wake up and everybody else gets to the hotel. We all go out to eat at this diner. When we finish I get drunk and start doing this out the window to passerbys, who react this way.
--We all split up into teams and we kind of do this the whole trip depending on what bands we wanted to see. My team grooved to the Bowrey Ballroom to see The Rapture. I never really listen to them, but they were mad spanky and spanked the shit out of the speakers. The drums were all 4/1 but there were so many fills that i wanted to dance, so i did.
-----------------WEDNESDAY------------------
--Wake up late and eat Brunch at a Diner
--Go to Central Park to see shit and the locals. We stumble across the John Lennon Memorial Tile or something and I wan't impressed one bit. The park on the other hand was like the Backyard of the Orgasm Mansion. The leaves were bright yellow!!! There were geese and for some reason a bunch of baby humans. There were trails that forked into other forks. There was an escape from the bustle. There was a recently married couple It was depressingly romantic.
--We make our way to the "Met" or the Metropolitan Museum. You store a couple of blue whales in there. I "donated" a dollar to get in. Suhweet.
--Eat a pizza and then try to see Cold War Kids and Tapes n' Tapes but get shut the fuck down by the bouncers because they were at max capacity. Fuuuckin lame. So we say fuck that and go to some other bar and I get--->6 whiskey sours, 2 shots of Beam, a shot of Dewars, try to finish a Budweiser and fail. I go the hotel to sleep and wake up the next morning with a headache the size of the end of the world, then puke so hard that i get a pimple or something weird on my face. It's gone now but it looked ugly.
-----------------THURSDAY------------------
--Wake up with puke on my shirt and in my throat.
--Go back to sleep for a couple of hours and wake up. Get ready to go to the MOMA. Get there too late and buy this penguin finger puppet. Look look at it for a second and go back to buy another one.
--We head out to Time Square and it was most difficult to walk in a straight line. I got elbowed, hustled, and shouted at like 50 times after only 6 blocks. We find out that the show we wanted to see was located right across the street and we we like fuck yah, so we eat at Applebees and order appetizers because everything is marked up at least $15. We get accosted by this dude named Bill who has no teeth and he rambles on about being in the war. At the end of our conversation, he says "Oh and I'm gay." He leaves and says "hello again" at least 6 times. We pay our bill and lickety split.
--We go across the street to B.B. Kings to the fucking Stones Thow Chrome Mix Tour. Saw Percee P, Medaphor, Georgia Ann. Muldrow, Oh no, J Rocc, Aloe Blacc, Peanutbutter Wolf, and Mudder Effin Madlib!!!!!!! PB Wolf was scratching DVDs of early 90's music videos and he had the crowd by the balls. I was dissapointed with Madlib because he did only 4 songs. He was so fucked up and I got mad about that. Percee and Aloe were all killin it. They each did only 20 min sets and that was smart.
--We end up in a pub across the street of the hotel. I order a few drinks and before I attempt to close my tab, i find out that i have Alejandro Hernandez' atm card and not my credit card. Later i find out that my card was RACKED with additional charges...i fixed it though the next day.
-----------------FRIDAY------------------
--Go to Sojo and eat this double stacked burger with crazy good fries
--Look around and get jealous that all the stuff it my taste but more expensive than my plane ticket
--Go to the Sam Ash in Time Square and bang the drums for an hour
--Go across the street from Sam Ash to this grocery store where they serve all this soul food...end up eating like 6 pieces of fried chicken and getting really fucking tired
--Go home and knock out for an hour
--Go to see Apples in Stereo and Architecture in Helsinki. Apples in stereo sounded like U2, which made this couple hold each other back and forth like those punching clowns that never fall down no matter how hard you knock em out. AIH was a bunch of friends rocking the fuck out. It was super.
-----------------SATURDAY------------------
--This is the last day here and i'm ready to squeeze out all my needs from this city. So we make our way to the MOMA and it's a little bigger than the one in San Fransisco. This time i put on my headphones and i found that music supplements the ability to be more receptive to the art because it stimulates the mind and therefore allows...well...it's better with music.
--I take a shot of Jameson to help me walk in the cold
--We get back to the subway and my friend didn't have his metro pass so we, according to the ticket, were "doubling up on the turnstile." I swiped my card and both of us went through, yet do our dismay, was a football sized camera supervising our moves. We got tapped on the shoulder on the way to the E, were taken to the NYPD quarters in the subway station and that was lame. But we were laughing the whole time. I wanted to buff my shoes because they had a shoe buffer.
--Go to this sushi joint across the street and order the spider roll, 2 orders of spicy tuna, 3 asahi's and feel like cookie monster. I want to smile. I smile.
--Get back to the hotel then I drink a bottle of french wine to myself. It taste's like water. I get trashed. We head out to the CMJ Marathon closing party and sing "smalltown girl" in the Karaoke room. Dominated the Karaoke!!! Then we dance to some 2000 commercial hip hop which was okay.
--We pack when we get back, all drunk, and cranky because we gots to catch the flight. I don't sleep. That's it.
October 29, 2006
there are six sides to a pencil and i never noticed this...and many other things go unnoticed...and smells go unsmelled...all the details are washed away. Has anyone stood there to count the leaves or even name the colors? It's time to make an effort to memorize what my friends smell like and what their carpets and upholstery smell like because I disregard what people smell like, except powerful perfume like the one that my boss wears "church candles", "coconut insides" for my professor, and "pillow sleep" for my cat.
it's also time to be generous, generous with eye contact for the people i pass by. There is a tendency to look away when passing by someone who has energy intimidating intimidating intimidating and the way we look away perpetuates this awful message about the nature of strangers, who are really just friends that haven't started high fiving...when looking away, it's better to look at the lips instead of right (if they pass by the left) or left (if they pass by the right) because it's offensive to habit the smugness that is not you...the smugness that transmits the message "I'm too good to be your friend" by the way you look away. When animals look at us, they pass no judgement...you can read an animal's eyes...they aren't saying "so you are not much like me" or these eyes aren't saying "so you are much like me, let's team up against the unlike." No no no these eyes don't say that. Animal eyes are all "what are you about to do right now because if it's to slide that hand of yours across my head then i'll let you, but if not then i think i'll run away and hide under something so i can watch things go by or explode."
We should pretend that we won't see each other ever again and that our acquaintance will be temporary, that this event is especially special, which means that we will fuck each others minds until we get tired of it.
We should let our minds be playful, promiscuous, as getting someone to laugh is an orgasm in far beautiful ways we won't regret.
You flatulated from your mouth,
it wreaked of love and humor,
Sil lent lee I hug you now,
why didn't you postulate sooner?
October 11, 2006
Fun-ness
A really good thing to do is to become in the library and find a human with a ginormous ego, then grin at them, then inch closer to them slowly and slowly, continue to grin. Then when you get as close to the human as they will let you get, life up your pantlegs and exclaim "I have new socks!" Then run away because they will stampede you.
Hiphopatattamus? Nooooooooooo!
So I must admit that this picture both enrages my madmometer and makes my cheeks blush lots...i can feel my cheeks and if there was a way to post a picture of them now they would be even more hardcore than the Charmin Ultra baby. But first, the madmometer has exploded and the mercury is all over the place because the Blue-footed Booby, once an unknown specimen, has nearly championed the radness that has been (since the beggining of time) under the modest ownership of the penguin. How can a bellyslider compete with the blue shoes? HOW!? Furthermore, the Blue-footed Booby, possesses a Darwinian fucking handicapp that is sincerely unfair and shit. Although it is not pictured, this guy has a blue throat...a really shiny one at that. How did he develop that? That's like me having a magic tail, which i in fact don't. I think that's fucked up. I forgot. My cheeks are berry because the thing is so fucking cute yet rugged, those qualities that only winners have and I want to be a goddamn winner. I'm jealous of this organism, this, this so called blue-footed masterpiece. I also heard these things have unstoppable techniques in mating style, straight punch through cement shit. I swear man, how did this thing come into existence. Unfairness like this defies the balance of not only nature but the cosmos. I swear if I ever see this psycho I'll invite him to a game of Simon Says and I'll be all "Simon says flap your wings. Great. Simon says bob your head. Good. Simon says have blue feet. Uhuh. Simon says go like this! (While i'm pretending to stab my body all over).
I really miss my mom. This sucks. le sigh.
October 07, 2006
The soul is sound in autumn
Buh Buh Buh Benny and the Jets! Dugh.....dugh.......dugh.....duuuuunuh nuh!
When those guys speak spanish in the locker room it makes me nervous.
When those guys speak spanish in the locker room it makes me nervous.
October 01, 2006
I've been dreaming for a while
I summoned psylocibin from the rasta mon's. These were born and raised with deep blessings. Consequently i was beholden to their hocus-pocus. About 35 minutes after consumption, my temperature increased slightly and a sense of euphoria was present. I felt at peace, devoid of time and unoccupied with thoughts that dealt with anything but the present. However, I noticed an elevated level of self-consciousness which soon was to intersect the displacement of my body. I was then accosted by a slight nausea from which my body was attempting to reject the "poison", followed by enduring waves of acute forces residing mostly in my brain and marginally the rest of my form. At times, the intensity was unbearable, possibly due to the company I was in or the intermittent glimpses into manifested visualizations. This element was undoubtedly peculiar because I did not "see" this illusion in the physical world, but entirely with my imagination, thinking these images. The uncanny resemblance to Daedelus' Sundown music video was realized only the next day.
I witnessed these manifestations, meaning that I was unable to control what I imagined.
Essentially I would engage in this process over and over, shutting my eyes to see what my mind was thinking, then occasionally feel the extreme of an emotion among a host of many that exist...unconditional love, throbbing heartbreak, "broey" homage, loneliness, uncontrollable humor, a three-year-old's curiosity, and utter confusion. I must have proclaimed confusion at least six times that night.
I also found words to be exceptionally obsolete in attempting to express myself. In each pursuit, I would find myself incapable of locating the appropriate words in my mind, or any at that. If I tried hard, I would stumble upon gibberish. My opinions were nothing short of complete ambivalence because I would think or feel something, then either forget or lose care about it after. The only way I expressed myself clearly was through the mind and with my body, however, they were all by accident. By simply feeling or thinking something, the others who I were with would instantly receive the message. It was powerful.
I found myself rolling on the floor and lying face up like a corpse on many counts.
At one point in the evening, one of us decided to roll around on an exercise ball and suggested I do the same, claiming that the experience would be rewarding. I followed the suggestion, failing to recognize the loss of weight perception, and rolled off the ball, plowing my coconut through the metal part of the screen door. Bewildered yet unharmed, it took 5 minutes to grasp the happening. I felt like an animal, clueless to the humor of society. Everyone laughed and I hadn't realized why. Shortly after, I named the spherical object the "ego ball", as its use will prompt the destruction of the ego.
I accompanied my ego in a rigorous exchange of spiritual pain. It was VERY Buddhist. I found that my ego, along with the constraint of my physical makeup, was tethering me to this world and without the presence of these two suppressive items, I would have gained entry into a separate realm. I truly was a part of the Buddhist experience. Eventually, I lost my frame of reference, identity, and almost all of my ego. There was some still left that prevented me from being completely free and I know exactly what (will remain unmentioned), desire.
Eventually I died, my identity, sense of knowledge and common sense. I became immature to become more matured. I transcended the sun and the darkness. I saw the others around me, staring at me, wondering where I've been, why i've been asleep for so long, wondering how i've been wasting my time with trivial pursuits, making things "more complicated." At this point I realized that for most of my life, I've been inhibited by my ideals, which I've been sorely mistaking for a habit of stillness and passive subtleties. This will change now.
I witnessed these manifestations, meaning that I was unable to control what I imagined.
Essentially I would engage in this process over and over, shutting my eyes to see what my mind was thinking, then occasionally feel the extreme of an emotion among a host of many that exist...unconditional love, throbbing heartbreak, "broey" homage, loneliness, uncontrollable humor, a three-year-old's curiosity, and utter confusion. I must have proclaimed confusion at least six times that night.
I also found words to be exceptionally obsolete in attempting to express myself. In each pursuit, I would find myself incapable of locating the appropriate words in my mind, or any at that. If I tried hard, I would stumble upon gibberish. My opinions were nothing short of complete ambivalence because I would think or feel something, then either forget or lose care about it after. The only way I expressed myself clearly was through the mind and with my body, however, they were all by accident. By simply feeling or thinking something, the others who I were with would instantly receive the message. It was powerful.
I found myself rolling on the floor and lying face up like a corpse on many counts.
At one point in the evening, one of us decided to roll around on an exercise ball and suggested I do the same, claiming that the experience would be rewarding. I followed the suggestion, failing to recognize the loss of weight perception, and rolled off the ball, plowing my coconut through the metal part of the screen door. Bewildered yet unharmed, it took 5 minutes to grasp the happening. I felt like an animal, clueless to the humor of society. Everyone laughed and I hadn't realized why. Shortly after, I named the spherical object the "ego ball", as its use will prompt the destruction of the ego.
I accompanied my ego in a rigorous exchange of spiritual pain. It was VERY Buddhist. I found that my ego, along with the constraint of my physical makeup, was tethering me to this world and without the presence of these two suppressive items, I would have gained entry into a separate realm. I truly was a part of the Buddhist experience. Eventually, I lost my frame of reference, identity, and almost all of my ego. There was some still left that prevented me from being completely free and I know exactly what (will remain unmentioned), desire.
Eventually I died, my identity, sense of knowledge and common sense. I became immature to become more matured. I transcended the sun and the darkness. I saw the others around me, staring at me, wondering where I've been, why i've been asleep for so long, wondering how i've been wasting my time with trivial pursuits, making things "more complicated." At this point I realized that for most of my life, I've been inhibited by my ideals, which I've been sorely mistaking for a habit of stillness and passive subtleties. This will change now.
September 29, 2006
starting today...
thiswillbeagoodyearthiswillbeagoodyearthiswillbeagoodyear
thiswillbeagoodyearthiswillbeagoodyearthiswillbeagoodyear
thiswillbeagoodyearthiswillbeagoodyearthiswillbeagoodyear
thiswillbeagoodyearthiswillbeagoodyearthiswillbeagoodyear
thiswillbeagoodyearthiswillbeagoodyearthiswillbeagoodyear
thiswillbeagoodyearthiswillbeagoodyearthiswillbeagoodyear
thiswillbeagoodyearthiswillbeagoodyearthiswillbeagoodyear
thiswillbeagoodyearthiswillbeagoodyearthiswillbeagoodyear
thiswillbeagoodyearthiswillbeagoodyearthiswillbeagoodyear
thiswillbeagoodyearthiswillbeagoodyearthiswillbeagoodyear
thiswillbeagoodyearthiswillbeagoodyearthiswillbeagoodyear
September 24, 2006
Woe is him and her and them
The 7-11 is a depressing culdesac when the sun is watching. I went there, for reasons not alike the strangers I walked beside and then past. When you purchase whatever it is that compelled you to be there at that specific time, there is the absence of shame. The _____induced guilt that was once there has now vanished, like the funds of a college kid's checking account. Drug addicts know this well, because they are welcome today, tomorrow, and the next. The clerks are not the same number-punching chaps at the Armani Exchange with the pep and enthusiasm. Not at all. The 7-11 clerks don't give a rats ass about who buys what because it's always the bearded lady who wants the nachos and it's always the fire breathers who fancy beef jerky, so on and so forth. This visit wasn't contrary to what I've always seen. I seen a man, who's skull that was unproportionate to his bedrock, ravaging a collection of chocolate bars one after the other, as if a comet were on it's way to vanquish all the cacao from mesoamerica to East Germany. I proposed that he was having an affair, and junk was already out the door. I also seen another man who was radiant...a clown because he took no effort in muscling the expression. It was empty though. I've seen this look many times, many times in those who have lost all connection with commercial reality, modern thought, and the planet earth. Last I seen was a woman wearing the opposite expression...brooding with passion and disesteemed to the bone, not like misanthropes who look down on Mormons or secret Santa shoppers, but a pain that is the helium of a tank. She was a sign twirler, forgive our language. Humbling to say a passerby is I. Why then must others get all the breaks?
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