What if I just changed my facebook name? Oh, what in heavens would the ramifications be? I'm Doctor Danger, I've got a PhD in throwing caution to said heavens, why would I even ask?
What if that theory was true, that I heard proposed, supposedly by Dr. Timothy Leary, via the movie Waking Life, that in the moments leading to death, the perception of time elongates, to somehow meet eternal life halfway in a spaghetti singularity of consciousness? well, that'd be bad news for the ones who died by self inflicted gunshots to the head, or uhm well, for any old gunshots to the head, or torso, or in fact, any kind of death in which the immanent failure of the body's vital organs triggers a flood of pain signals through the central nervous system, excepting those of us who've been shown by the angel of death how a tender shave with the scythe, so close and creamy, can feel so good out of body in a null-space netherworld flotilla of right neighborly supRA-ledge omni thought buddies, a whole nother level above supER, and we're laughing at the sunking who fell from godhood, landed in kaliflorida, suffused with a felt presence of immediate experience that's so convenient for a dilated death-dive, not defying anything but surrendering, and it just so happens, it's a winning move, check, mate
but what neither of us know will fill the back issues of discover magazine, and all the news that's fit to print, but i'm holding out for santa claus anyway, just in case
look at how sentence case morphs, like a game of tetris, from conventions to ramshackle convents housing regularly scheduled episodes of deterioration. If I'd taken the iron pill I'd be blaming this uncomfortable gut feeling on that. Maybe the gut is plunging periscopes into a membrane of reality. Effects, affects, defects, prefects,
it all went downhill when i stepped in the same river twice, didn't i?
yes, i did, and it did all go downhill at approximately that time
at roughly the same spot in the same river, aayaand,,,
talk to yourself some more, cause this is the time to do it
...another day slipped through my fingers. dot pollution
that's okay, it's just a day
Ignored at the meeting by the monstrous chad because of the easily missed frequency of my voice, when I tried to be friendly and join the co...
I'm working out new ways to perform and record. They take the form of melodic fragments, half-assed renditions of half-remembered songs,...