philosophical boredom

the rainy 5:18 sky feels like a hostess potato chip truck passing south nelson elementary school on the dirt road that was decommissioned in the early '90s - so much depends on that - empires of oblivion - or is it oubliette?

it's a good thing i can see a little sky, and a sliver of house - it's a good thing most of the view is obscured by the window curtains

dreams of heaven, dreams of women, dreams of drugs, dreams of persecution, dreams of revenge - the menu never really changes, but there's new flavours, foreign spices brought in every month or so - can't read the labels

there was a good bit in that improv, something i should turn into something - meandering soul, is where the solid detritus lies, honest injun, but structure and artifice is where something better is, something i would want to listen to - therein lies the dichotomy - soul don't sell - otherwise it wouldn't be soul, no, it'd be something worth writing about - although the effort to describe the feeling of the hostess gray association was more than token - worth at least fifty funbucks, yessir - now if i could only turn that improv into something, turn a screw, something borrowed and blue -- for lack of anything, better to do --- no, this won't do

the only purpose is in improving, heh, in both meanings - there's a platonic paradox, in no meanings - river bathing, digital ganges: you take a mortal man - and put him in the producer's chair - watch people's heads'a roll (the multidisciplinary studies arc): it doesn't happen by magic, but it does happen - you can make a great mensch out of a slack mediocre hypocrite - just prop him up with your god-like powers, god, tell him the one thing he needs to say to the one person he needs to say it to, to get his big break, get mad respect, locally, and subsequently, globally, be one of the elite, the ones who're still standing up st. pete, voltaire's immortal bastards - he'll still be a hypocrite, but no longer mediocre, and with a schedule full of things to do, like throw first pitches at baseball games, and speak on panels - and since everybody's a hypocrite except for the mute, it's the best a body can hope for

take me, please - for example: sure, i'm brilliant and talented, but never qualitatively or quantatively at the same time, dig? maybe sometimes demi-semi-hemi-quaverly, in a special limited-edition issue of gentleman's quarterly, but that's neither here nor there - so, watch you do is, you take the good, you take the bad, you take the rest, and then you have, the facts of life - which you use to contrive charlie's knot, which is a particular path for a lab-rat to get to the cheese a little quicker than fifty thousand out of fifty million vying for a similar style of journey

it's a lock, i tell you - you and me, we'll fix the world, or at least make a series out of it - it's like, i can't make morals out of this game anymore - yeah, i'll disappoint some people, but they're statistics, not tragedies - so, the fix is in, right? just don't tell nobody - swim a lap in AQ delirium, shower, killing policemen, it's not loaded, it is words and slides