maybe i'll blog, cause i have a blog, and i'm a blogger, and i barely blogged for so long my blog got lonely, and as a blogger, blogging is as natural as breathing, it's what i do, chips of plutonium twinkling in every lung

i liked myself better when i wasn't trying to be perfect - i think other people like me better when i am trying to be perfect but i'll just have to take the hit, and accept their legit criticism of me when i shrug off what to me have become intolerable burdens of propriety - i'm plenty deserving of criticism, i'll accept that, but i'm thinking that i'll have to start doing less things that make me miserable - maybe my character is built up so big that... nah, it's not that i got a big character, it's just that there's a shadow that... whatever - lite music outro

deputized to be a ditch digger

the world needs them too - why did they dress me in a ditch-digger's uniform, with low wattage wet-ware to perform a sub-routine? there's no good answer to that, i know

yay, i'm going to sleep soon, so, fuck everything - time to bug out - dream some dreams at least, forget what day it is, what house i live in - forget it the old-fashioned way which is also newfangled, a way that uses the brain in its natural state, or whatever passes for that these days, a simulacrumalgamockup at least, with sarcastic inflection and a heterogeneous heart

abandon ship, all y'all, there's a fire in the theatre, join me in action, but stay out of my lifeboat, or here, have my lifeboat, i'll just jump into the pacific and be passively jostled by ocean currents for an as yet to be determined period

shake like i got insulin shock, a theory which is not a model and based on glass-eyed observation and biofeedback through a gray buffer of electron imaging magnified to the pico scale - the algebra of sex is something i would sooner leave to the ologists, maybe even theologists, and sophists can persuade if you got enough spring in your step to pursue your blue suede shoes to the healthy and spiritually correct jacuzzi suite stiletto lodge after a linner of fluoride pies

yeah, the expert truck can keep on trucking, truckers don't honk too often, they know how to drive, they're okay by me, i like them better than cab drivers, although most cabbies are okay, i guess, yeah, i'll take my eyes off the quiet ones and watch the meter til i realize it doesn't matter, a watched meter will change just as fast as an unobserved one, so you're only cheating yourself out of a scenic survey of the jaunt across town

CHEESE BRIDGE AREA

a credible hectrizm

the longest dance craze ever

ended when Mr. Overbee fell on one knee

and proposed mortgage to society

and that's a tragedy, but hey everybody

it's me again, dressed up like achilles

silly mythology for all, accessible as trojans to university pussy fans

for old times' sake, disrupt a chronic wake

with an unseasonably zesty HECTRIZM

its an unreasonable chizm in a rational twirl

more indecent than orgasm, on the whole

its an irrational chazm in your bilateral chizm

and a spasmodic prism besides

the train's still available, to spin spain'll

if you'll ever want'll that plagelistic plain

just don't complain if you get searched for plagiarized bagels

some people get grabby with perceived intellectual property

even when it gets edible, at times like these

so do the hectrizm, it ain't that hard

you just twist twenty-two staggers to the right, or left, whichever is closest

and keep on twisting til your m=f/a

and then you shotput your body to escape the earth's velocity

that'll do it, then do it again!

it's a credible hectizm, i'd believe

out there dude in here format

Ahhh, sigh of relief. Carbonate burp. Fart of sodium citrate vapours. Ol' Man Seltzer with his tums, and his nursing home kindergarten curses. I'm "mentioning your name" on twitter like a little tweeting twit. Now can I get a deal somewhere, at some local or nonlocal merchant now? Cause of the mention?

Pathetic. Because I couldn't say it on facebook, without a convergence of people interrogating me for what I meant. What did I mean? Oh I guess I meant my life and my efforts at recording music.

Dodged two flacks tin bullets today. Not what I meant to say, fuck yoo auto correct. But thank yoo for making the bullets more interesting. What if... I don't want to shake like a leaf? Hypothetical mediocrity. Good readers, read me, heed me, need me, it thins out my blood, it's good for me, it dulls the pain while keeping it conscious. Justin phonetic bieber as written in the ancient scrolls. So let it be splayed in independent and inelegant essay format and in indecent slobbering sultriness and in initialized executive stubbornness.

obviously a bad idea

why did i mention this or that? it's not like i wanted to - funny, how a feeling of obligation yielded nothing good anyway - i might as well have done this or that - expression impression printing vice - i guess it would be better to file this away - it would be a character strength, a kind of integrity to not post, and be all-insular rather than quasi-insular, but i'm sick of building character - sick in general - can i shrug it off and sleep, on this much caffeine? yeah, i bet i could - won't even dig for an essay

vocation-less studying for nothing - are you ready to die yet? i thought i had to reach out, to anything, take every opportunity - now i'm stuck with opportunities taken, breeding other opportunities that demand to be taken, in an overpopulating cycle

maybe i can scrape by, shamefully - shame me over here, shame me over there, or maybe it's clear it won't work, it will have the opposite effect, at least on the hard glazed surface where i hang out, stubbornly, i'll shame myself until someone else does, and then i'll be spitefully proud, or at least pretend to be, and it'll almost work, for a while

all i can feel is pressure any more, can't remember ease

well, i do remember new york-themed dreams that come in so many variations and colors and emotions, a full spectrum of feeling from positive to negative and off the dichotomies - remember the trampoline under the ancient ruins of the rural house that kind of resembled Robin's grandparents' place? and underneath was... something i can't describe - and a television shoot on 3 dimensional primary colored floating boxes like a mario game, and cast and crew catering power struggles, and a bottle of vodka stashed in a cubby hole deep inside the floating box fort, and sneaking off the set

and that triggers a branch off that dream-limb to a brightly-lit tower interior, and a construction job, and woah, that triggers a dream about tampa, and highways, and driving incompetently on crazy freeways at terribly dangerous speeds in heavy traffic where everyone else seems so nonchalant, and farm access roads in grids on plains, and poorly-planned trips across countries, late for flights, catching other flights on dodgy massively oversized airliners from strange foreign countries that i know will crash, it's just a matter of when, and the airliner that had a mall inside of it, that made me wonder how it could fly being that big, what hubristic luxury, and the globe dream, with analogues to environmental catastrophes and geneses that seem to flow like air currents, and a bunch more stuff, i could do this aaaaaaall day and night, and i still have wednesday to catch up, so maybe i will, insanity and dreaming seem so pathetically natural

the grand old man of blogging

chords occurred to me one playthrough night - turned into a cold shiver that wasn't cold enough to warm me as the psychothermic waves did in the past - there were stupid waves and also waves of righteousness, sometimes cresting into each other, making me joyous and queasy, if i can be permitted to use that j-word

and now what am i going to do? it's like, writing used to be a labyrinth with more spaces than walls, now there's more walls than spaces - at least there's a few hours to fritter away before i have to go to a big school building and be in a class room - time to dream, if i want to, and make waking up all the worse - maybe i should stay awake, but now the thought is making me sleepy - i'd love to dream, even the nightmare last night that left me sweaty seems neat now, but i'm neatly able to delude myself now, it's a built in mind mechanism to prep me for the schizoid plunge, a siren song sort of delusion - me and my relationship partner, we never mixed with these words, this expressive venue - why can't there be a better mix? is that a law of nature? sad that i think i need caffeine to complete this all-nighter - it won't be that - but it won't be in code either - so, let's say, that's a victory, for something - for sus 4 chords

it would be fun to go full-bore hermetic, an idle hypothesis insists: a substitute for absence - a substantial absence

okay, let's make some space
between the silly album and the rest of life
keep the tracks in the historical subfolder
of the recording folder on H:
as a digital time-capsule
to be opened in five years
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