clumsy chat up
chat around
chat down
on the level
on a level
OTASAN's level
feigning confidence is possible but
disgusting, don't have motion sickness pills and
too much consciousness for confidence
pal around with lucifer
won't play the clown
not desperate, i can take pride in that
as i chat up
chat down
chat around
forfeit, with
a new set of digits
held on to my wits
for what profit?
won't call that unhappy home
wouldn't dare to make a splinter
but i'll stick myself the next time i'm bored
12/31/08
12/30/08
12/29/08
magical answers
Boredom and depression are good for the soul and good for the pen.
What couldn't be that easy, wasn't, isn't.
It's a load off, when the other shoe drops.
What couldn't be that easy, wasn't, isn't.
It's a load off, when the other shoe drops.
Mandrake's waiting for you, because you're not me. He's going to suck your toes and lick your belly. After that, he's not sure.
I know it's loud, it's the bunker, that's how it is. I could tell them to quiet down, but I'd rather not go down to that sublevel. It's mayhem, but it's under control. May not seem like it, but it is. It's meta-stable, the doctor told me. You're an educated girl, right? You know what I'm talking about. Good.
The lights blinking, yes, I saw that too, I don't deny it, I didn't then and I don't now - but they've been on for two hours solid since the last blink. A blink is just a blink. It was on the blink, but it's off the blink now. Eyes wide open. But I've got anti-nausea tablets and breath fresheners and sleep-aids. Just between you and me, I bought some Adolphine from the band. Got a good deal, a gram for thirty reichmarcks. Yeah. Don't tell anyone else I have it.
I wouldn't call myself a good nazi. A medicore nazi maybe. Perhaps even a sub-par nazi. I'm not proud of my humility.
Also, I know about "your" child. You think he's your child but he's not. He's God's child. We're gonna get him out of this. Stick with me and He'll be alright.
I know it's loud, it's the bunker, that's how it is. I could tell them to quiet down, but I'd rather not go down to that sublevel. It's mayhem, but it's under control. May not seem like it, but it is. It's meta-stable, the doctor told me. You're an educated girl, right? You know what I'm talking about. Good.
The lights blinking, yes, I saw that too, I don't deny it, I didn't then and I don't now - but they've been on for two hours solid since the last blink. A blink is just a blink. It was on the blink, but it's off the blink now. Eyes wide open. But I've got anti-nausea tablets and breath fresheners and sleep-aids. Just between you and me, I bought some Adolphine from the band. Got a good deal, a gram for thirty reichmarcks. Yeah. Don't tell anyone else I have it.
I wouldn't call myself a good nazi. A medicore nazi maybe. Perhaps even a sub-par nazi. I'm not proud of my humility.
Also, I know about "your" child. You think he's your child but he's not. He's God's child. We're gonna get him out of this. Stick with me and He'll be alright.
pine
is it time to pine again?
yes, i think it's that time
you'd think with all the drugs i do, i'd be happy
that's what drugs are supposed to do, make you happy
or music at least
i'm living the dream
a professional musician
not making money, not taking money, but
nonetheless, i profess, i'm a musician
living on the burroughs adding machine fortune
such as it is
should get me through
this month, rent, anesthetics, coffee
but it's time to pine
time to puff out the concave chest
and whine
cause my life's pretty vacant
the yang needs a yin
it's getting bad, i'm writing letters to the ex
the X, she's an ex X at this point, it's ridiculous
and i forgot, she blocked my address, so my tori amos attachment
didn't get thru, my little token, monopoly money
i can distract myself, i can hallucinate
i can crawl into holes, i can put on ear-buds
download another song, another movie
after another botched opportunity
another girl that got away
hey i tried, i tell myself, but i didn't do enough
and what do i deserve, anyway?
"who do i deserve?" i wrote, above a sketch of droopy contours
on a coke-downer, one of a thousand things i tried to do
to fill the void, that sketch creeps me the fuck out
i threw it in the recycling box, like i threw away
the emails i wrote when i was high
fake sucks, sucks my soul away
and i'm reading a horribly dark but gripping novel
about an abused boy deciding to dedicate his life to God
or the idea of God, or being a saint or something
an omniscient narrator, the author's presence knob turned to 11
the boy feels Grace, but his motivation for becoming a priest
David Adams Richards tells me
is as a kind of revenge against
the girl that got away
outside the church, all he had to say was
no, i'm not gonna be a missionary, i think i'll...
but, well... there you go
good god... these games we play - okay, i'll speak for myself
yes, i think it's that time
you'd think with all the drugs i do, i'd be happy
that's what drugs are supposed to do, make you happy
or music at least
i'm living the dream
a professional musician
not making money, not taking money, but
nonetheless, i profess, i'm a musician
living on the burroughs adding machine fortune
such as it is
should get me through
this month, rent, anesthetics, coffee
but it's time to pine
time to puff out the concave chest
and whine
cause my life's pretty vacant
the yang needs a yin
it's getting bad, i'm writing letters to the ex
the X, she's an ex X at this point, it's ridiculous
and i forgot, she blocked my address, so my tori amos attachment
didn't get thru, my little token, monopoly money
i can distract myself, i can hallucinate
i can crawl into holes, i can put on ear-buds
download another song, another movie
after another botched opportunity
another girl that got away
hey i tried, i tell myself, but i didn't do enough
and what do i deserve, anyway?
"who do i deserve?" i wrote, above a sketch of droopy contours
on a coke-downer, one of a thousand things i tried to do
to fill the void, that sketch creeps me the fuck out
i threw it in the recycling box, like i threw away
the emails i wrote when i was high
fake sucks, sucks my soul away
and i'm reading a horribly dark but gripping novel
about an abused boy deciding to dedicate his life to God
or the idea of God, or being a saint or something
an omniscient narrator, the author's presence knob turned to 11
the boy feels Grace, but his motivation for becoming a priest
David Adams Richards tells me
is as a kind of revenge against
the girl that got away
outside the church, all he had to say was
no, i'm not gonna be a missionary, i think i'll...
but, well... there you go
good god... these games we play - okay, i'll speak for myself
12/27/08
12/23/08
12/17/08
Praise God
well i'm still alive
survived nuclear apocalypse
made my way out of one un-appealing universe and into a different one
i like being able to alter realities
i would like to thank all of those for whom it hay'happenstance and haventhethhapsenthethll to question, well, that crystlizine font, it still flows, i really can't, i really can see your cantering smile in okay
survived nuclear apocalypse
made my way out of one un-appealing universe and into a different one
i like being able to alter realities
i would like to thank all of those for whom it hay'happenstance and haventhethhapsenthethll to question, well, that crystlizine font, it still flows, i really can't, i really can see your cantering smile in okay
12/13/08
12/10/08
too much
that's what they all say
they always say that
too much of a good thing at best
too much of a bad thing at worst
that's what they all say
well
they always say that
too much of a good thing at best
too much of a bad thing at worst
that's what they all say
well
12/09/08
expressiony
why? cause it's extra, i guess - i guess i can, maybe i was blue once
what less is there to say
still so many things to undo
fingers knuckles joints, so ready, so flexible
life works for me, music sounds tinny, everything is trivia
masonic infolayers, splatterns, arabesque
meaning is emotion and emotions are chemicals
i can't hear jello biafra thru the noise - i can't hear you thru the noise - i can't hear you thru jack - the sunken thrufare - still getting the job done
the sunken thrufare - still getting the job done - mumblz glitchop hopeful, hopefully something to focus on when the senses regain control - - -
- - - and now that you don't mention it, so many sad things i could think about if i thought to think of it, people i used to know - well, most people i know, well, you know, fuck it, it's trivia, flotsam, a speck of tobacco grit in the bloodstream, it's not supposed to be there - trixie turned her last trick - no wait, she'll turn another one, but this one's the last, for real - okay, one more - alright then
well,
i remember why i liked edificial amputechture, bubbles house bubbles house bubbles and nary a speck of collapse
i promise i will find and pursue my calling
even though i abandoned catholicism
and just now remembered in catholic school when they told me that
christians, the real good pure catholic christians, the cream of the crop, you know
the ones who picked the right church, inevitably succumb to their calling, the call is coming, and when it comes, you'll know what to do, you'll know whom to serve
well, i never served actually, i wasn't a server
i was a dishwasher, i was the colorful character on the sidelines
i was allowed to run my mouth like a all night bus,
although i wasn't that colorful, i would have regaled the kitchen staff
with hinterland travelogues, but i'm not a chatty type
but i promise, i will find my calling
somewhere around solstice, dark clarity calling
i mean theoretically, the egyptians framed me
it might be a dinner jazz trio, but i will sneak subversive mutterings about the plurality of reality and the melancholiness of alcoholism and hallucination and medication and quote keith jarrett, because he's an elder statesman now, and i'm the up and comer, an amateur of course, but reverent, irreverently
what less is there to say
still so many things to undo
fingers knuckles joints, so ready, so flexible
life works for me, music sounds tinny, everything is trivia
masonic infolayers, splatterns, arabesque
meaning is emotion and emotions are chemicals
i can't hear jello biafra thru the noise - i can't hear you thru the noise - i can't hear you thru jack - the sunken thrufare - still getting the job done
the sunken thrufare - still getting the job done - mumblz glitchop hopeful, hopefully something to focus on when the senses regain control - - -
- - - and now that you don't mention it, so many sad things i could think about if i thought to think of it, people i used to know - well, most people i know, well, you know, fuck it, it's trivia, flotsam, a speck of tobacco grit in the bloodstream, it's not supposed to be there - trixie turned her last trick - no wait, she'll turn another one, but this one's the last, for real - okay, one more - alright then
well,
i remember why i liked edificial amputechture, bubbles house bubbles house bubbles and nary a speck of collapse
i promise i will find and pursue my calling
even though i abandoned catholicism
and just now remembered in catholic school when they told me that
christians, the real good pure catholic christians, the cream of the crop, you know
the ones who picked the right church, inevitably succumb to their calling, the call is coming, and when it comes, you'll know what to do, you'll know whom to serve
well, i never served actually, i wasn't a server
i was a dishwasher, i was the colorful character on the sidelines
i was allowed to run my mouth like a all night bus,
although i wasn't that colorful, i would have regaled the kitchen staff
with hinterland travelogues, but i'm not a chatty type
but i promise, i will find my calling
somewhere around solstice, dark clarity calling
i mean theoretically, the egyptians framed me
it might be a dinner jazz trio, but i will sneak subversive mutterings about the plurality of reality and the melancholiness of alcoholism and hallucination and medication and quote keith jarrett, because he's an elder statesman now, and i'm the up and comer, an amateur of course, but reverent, irreverently
12/06/08
pragma is so cool
she's shaded, and she's well past the blast radious - she don't have to worry
pragma is so cool, she don't care
i will laugh at her, i will beat her into the ground
i will walk away, when she resurrects, and smites my ghost
i'll laugh, she won't hear or understand the ghost house, the
fifth ghost house on the donut plains
and i'll laugh again, i'll laugh
and not care
i will chew granola in the interim
and no reconciliatory attempt could dissuade me
from my divine apathy, even the sublime revelation
that apathy is fundamentally common, in an uncommonly filthy way
like the zen exercise that went bad, that stunk like gym socks
like what is filthy, the fungus, the teeming microscopic parasites
or the way the sock is hanging from the foot, exposing a good portion
of ankle, ankle exposure, tittilating
and i'm going on a poor man's nod, a pabst nod, and everyone's fucked up, and everyone's drinking on the job, and justifying their drinking with a wink and a nod, and keeping the sinking economy at half-balast for another day, another bail-out, it's the prime mover, what keeps, best before 2012
pragma is so cool, she don't care
i will laugh at her, i will beat her into the ground
i will walk away, when she resurrects, and smites my ghost
i'll laugh, she won't hear or understand the ghost house, the
fifth ghost house on the donut plains
and i'll laugh again, i'll laugh
and not care
i will chew granola in the interim
and no reconciliatory attempt could dissuade me
from my divine apathy, even the sublime revelation
that apathy is fundamentally common, in an uncommonly filthy way
like the zen exercise that went bad, that stunk like gym socks
like what is filthy, the fungus, the teeming microscopic parasites
or the way the sock is hanging from the foot, exposing a good portion
of ankle, ankle exposure, tittilating
and i'm going on a poor man's nod, a pabst nod, and everyone's fucked up, and everyone's drinking on the job, and justifying their drinking with a wink and a nod, and keeping the sinking economy at half-balast for another day, another bail-out, it's the prime mover, what keeps, best before 2012
12/05/08
12/03/08
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channeling easy mode
Sometimes I fade, like Bod . Then proceed to get away with things. Stealing time, treating myself. To a glorified journal entry. This pigmy...
