in other words

that medicinial taste

to know that you're still clean - in that ugly sort of way - and you can wash dishes for another round - oh, i'll be there - with hells bells on - emotions chafing - haven't found the proper seasoning for my caeser - less worchester, more tobascco... less tobacco - mmm, triple ms, that is what you would write - haven't smoked a smoke in 12 hours, amazing isn't it?

reality check: everything's cool
just blogging on ketamine, injected and snorted, sterilized, in my bedroom - creek street is still flowing, people are still afraid of needles, i feel like i've learned a valuable lesson, don't tie too hard, and i still have valuable dish washing skills.

sterilitee killzz - i got it all worked out in my head - the sterile water make it right and hey, first pass, second pass, who is counting? he's a family guy - indeed - just watch out, he takes things seriously when he comes down - the weight - T he W eight is the momentum that allows you to do things, but unfortunately

blake lost his brother dean

and what do you say? life - i've mainlined life -- the deep red seething into the syringe -- i will cast my vote for the tic tac regime - keep on keepinon

dealing with drops

they said boredom is good for the soul

well

this buzz is good for a k hole

i make no trouble
just hallucinate\

wow

well, mainvein is good - stop towards
like godstep

fodder

still plenty in the sinuses

on this transient blog
of a transient dishwasher

the cycle continues

gonna fuck us up for another year, we're going straight
do you remember what clean means?

per

stlilwater r. yeah . rrrrogight
pleases me 0 - it pleaeses me - confluence

keith jarrett improvising in nagoya

per

forget hal

perperpetual over

waiting, winding, binding, binding
bide bide bide bbbide

waiting, winding, veteranarian, wandering
lonesome suzie, katie been gone so long

trumpet borus

auntie Kay

nagoyaflo - nagoyaflo - action hotdog go, yaknow - oh yeah, you know - -

naglifier waffles, and there's always more detritus for the dog and the cat that bit me that i still like that i don't know

shards

thanks bro

typing again, after so long - why did i stop writing? i forgot why - treated words like a texture - rhi baubles, the harsh, but not that harsh, the harsh edge of the crunch that is really more of a squish - all these patter splatterns... and forget forgot where he was -- black hole, white hole, we've heard them before - ok - another coat

another coat of frosting

some more keys to scrape your syntax

we're trying to turn corners, collectively, individually... little men, kiddies, not a party place - transcribing - because i like being part of the texture, and framing {incadecently; why do i hate frames? it's not important but it might become a matter of practicality... the REALITIES of LIVING as an ARTIST

victoria

STREET

i'm riding the aloof bouncy k wave as i type this - taking google's advice
per spelling correction where applicable... sic

that ol pixies song

making

and other cuntcile tendencies

how much would you pay for

absurd upholstery

good thing, and there's no excuse for it, and they didn't correct my spelling, all funneled into the groovitational archives - terminator exit

bring the noise

subject

holodeck audience
subject
“to” is a preposition
as a trend, as a friend, in the census bureau
holodeck audience

more from midlope's "liquid"

Subject is that which perceives; perception is enacted and resulted by the subject.
Exercise is something enacted from the self that changes the person's physique.
Atoms move around and fuse with others. Delve into the life in the miniscule.
A person's thoughts are direct results of that person's experience and even when in philanthropic thought tunnels, it is the 'I' who is active.

Univergence
The result of the absence of perception is univergence.
A glass of water is left nearly finished on a hot summer day. The drinker comes back later to find the cup dry.
How a person can stare at something for minutes without moving his eyes and not be able to discern an object or form.
Words written on paper only change when being written or read--else, when not seen, it is not used and thus unchanged.
A person who became vegetarian out of survival's sake, got back to mainland life, no longer wanted meat.

I like porn better anyway

they’ve said i’m a good lover – but i still prefer porn – and i prefer drugs to orgasm – i’m more human than you – it’s what separates me from the animals, except the monkeys who’ve been wired to freebase coke IVs and will self-administer the substance instead of food through starvation - i’m synthetic man

sex bores me – the first few times with the same partner are mind blowing bliss – then it becomes rote and obligatory – they get insecure that i don’t come and it kills my tantric buzz, i get nervous, negative imprints accumulate, i lose interest but feel pressured to pretend otherwise - the times i do feel spontaneous passion rarely count for anything, rarely nudge the already completed construct in their heads of me as a sterile eunuch droid

i like the comforts of a relationship, i love to love and be faithful, and share a life with someone - but sex poisons everything, because it is a drug for me – my eyes keep roving for the next hit, the next beauty, even if i’ve forbidden myself the consummation of those pleasures – consummation is a false religion, a dry dream

i’m such a baby when it comes to relationships – my experience is limited, i don’t know what i’m doing – pathetically eager to jump right in – she left me after three weeks – the realities “crept up on her”, i found out all the underlying problems in one shebang, out of the blue – and i still don’t understand – but i guess it was the right thing – guess i’ve learned enough about relationships to know i don’t want one – that ship sailed, sunk

if i gotta choose between women and drugs, i’ll choose drugs, my first and last love – they’ve been loyal to me and they don’t fuck me up as much – i constantly apologize for talking about drugs and nothing else – but i’m like an aquabot, apologizing for breathing through its gillotron – fuck it

space kadets

bottom line

buzzed from the show, our most successful to date - crowd, energy, sound, music, profit, feedback all pleased me

the hotel manager who never talks to me comes to see me in the middle of my shift:

"so how'd the show go?"

"very well" i say - "damn good show"

he stares at me with cold blank eyes, looking like he's expecting me to say something

"wasn't too busy though, huh?" he adds, finally

"uh... i dunno - how busy is it supposed to be?"

"how much did you guys make?" he asks

"about a grand" i honestly report

"about a grand, huh" the manager repeats, then leaves

gears grind in my head - this is what he came here to say? like, what does he want from me? if we were the wrong band for the bar, isn't that his fuckup? did our crowd not buy enough overpriced drinks? i only put two peeps on the guest list and neither showed - even bought several beers myself

kind of killed my buzz, this negative asshole coming by just to passive aggressively complain about the lack of money he expected to make from the show - i was happy with the turnout, our first ever encore request which mike refused to grant, of course - guess the manager was expecting a BC-DC sized crowd - poor guy - we killed his buzz with our subgenre music and our subcult following - maybe we should have subsidized his drink sales

well fuck it - can't be too concerned with that dick's bar profits - we played a good show and that's all i care about

maybe it was revenge for that time i told a rude customer to fuck off and no one could prove it was me - or maybe since my brain's been mercifully spared its paranoid obsessions so long, it decided it was due for one - in any case, it's something to write about – new bullshit to supplant the garden variety

fall
fall

chels bells
chels bells in the fall
she believes in falling
and i’m seeing
pall malls
swirly for the sake of being swirly
information is neat
fornication’s sweet

super sweet

i’ll get a life’s worth of life out of this
but how could i be this tilted?
could it be because i aloud
myself to gelcap that yo
yes, remembering yesterdays
partenting skillz

omar likes to beedley deedley

fucking hell omar
you like to like to beedley deedley omar
fucking hell omar, and so do i
but you are so ghastly good at beedledeedlieying...
am i seeing this, am i believing this???
oh my god you are my trip - doing my tripeedee deebedeley
medelemedelmedelemedele deeds
and now you're letting adrian's horn
now you're getting me out of that sqozen chazm
and holyshit, you're actually making that
2 grams of k worth it, and then some, goddayum

you're a person i'm proud of
a chair i can bounce off of

boiling death request, se dice bufalo et stranger epochs
fountain fondu families, nubian princesi came as a forest
of frillsets, sucessful ponzi for a while

and these are my people
the afro'd robert-fripp-influenced, david bowie-referencing, latin k smokers
these are my people, they’re so
my people, they’re so
my people, they’re so
hey, when did this loop get so tight?
and i don’t mean that in a good way

smoked k tonight, yes i
never tried that way before
scraped some of it into a gelcap
after packing the sinuses
2 grams of k
that's all of it
down the drain o

can you believe that shit?
73% of americans are unable to
it’s the day the earth stood still
petrified digital glades
glaziazoes monstrazadaisikles

sleaze bag

he's a sleaze bag

waiting in the sky

god's your creepy uncle

and you'll meet him when you die

he's a sleaze bag

but his love for you is true

he can handle any shit job

he is stoic through and through

he keeps the walls clean

keeps a byzantine nest

there's a rotating scheme

of walls to clean

a priority tree of growing complexity

the grime brightens, the brown whitens

it all becomes clear at eleven pm

before it goes grime again

please try not to look

like he looks like he’s sleazy

when you pass through, server girl

jewel from the dregs

wet, shining, stained

naked beneath

drapes of haphazard luck

it’ll rub off on you, try it, are you scared?

it’s not lucky for him but it’s lucky for you

grease spillage from motherfuck buckets

shudders from charmed dishrags

a critical mass of malignant thought

you'll avoid true contact

because truth is where love is

but he’ll do the extra chores

to keep on, clean the kitchen every night

just to see you smile again, he can pretend

it's all for him

in the constellations

you'll learn to love molestation

blakey boy

blakey boy's basically got no empathy
doesn't need to get back to me
doesn't mind if that fucks with me really
he's not clueless but mostly carefree

blakey boy's basically got no empathy
just lots of decency, i'm choking on his leniency
grand master tact feels nothing for me
he'll do his own thing, celebrate libran levity

carefree mostly
sometimes eternally
carefree mostly
sometimes eternally
saw him plucking the trends with zen fingertips
he stopped using filtertips
stopped smoking pot
saw him with flower petals at his feet
fragments of conversation between him and them

he's got indian status, shuns the silver spoon
casts the i ching and "explores" on shrooms
the trends dry and die but he always saves face
make no mistake, blake fucks up with grace

he gave me my first trip for free
back when i couldn't find that sort of thing
ochre haze warming lampbuzz, giggling under lions' gazebo
didn't matter that i'd eaten candy beforehand
and spent all my money, he critiqued the candy
said it was hard like it was supposed to be
purple licorice from the gas station, matured
to perfect textural consistency

blakey was a funny guy
we had some fun times
but now he's got a life
and i’ve got these dumb rhymes

taxing you

yes yes, i'm taxing you

i'm taxing you for being an asshole

the government wasn't doing its job

i noticed when you got your third promotion

yes yes, i'm helping myself

the company has deep pockets

i know they can afford compensation

to me it's simply an ignoble obligation

swipe, swipe, another swipe

it’s another wrong partially righted

i want a new ipod, you want a new car

the taxes won't kill you but the price of gas will

i'm so tired, think i’ll take a cab home today

so here’s another ride on you

oh i hope my entrusted ketamine-encrusted charge card

will get me back in time to watch tv

before i fall asleep, i’m so tired, did i tell you

i’m so tired? it's true

yes yes, i was taxing you

you caught me with your video camera

you had to film me and good thing you did

justice has been served

you took it on yourself to film me

it wasn't company policy strictly

but you're your own man, a man of action

the superstore garden center vigilante

yeah yeah, put me away

i'm sure i'll learn a valuable lesson

i'll learn to use my fists instead of my brain

it wasn't working anyway

ziegfried humperdinck's theme party

there's a spring in my step - i don't think that it's mine

there's notes on my pad, a quake in my spine

don't ask how they got there - i don't think they're mine

quiver, yeah i feel fine, really

yes i feel fine, shudder, really but

where were you when my whole body ached?

where were you when madness was a headdress

stapled to my temples, soul sickness

expressed in mad hat choice, like

there’s gotta be something wrong

and if you look too long you’ll catch it too

well i feel fine, but feel free to stay over there

if i'm scaring you, didn't mean to, sorry

every day's been garbage day since

i don't know when

but maybe i didn't throw out my brain

like i thought, looks like

there's something at the back of the fridge

the hairy jar of juice on the bottom rack

there’s beans in my dip, there’s a spring in my step

there’s spunk on my shirt - i don’t think that it’s mine

it’s awareness week

at the awareness fair

i'm hawking my wares

it’s awareness with flair

it’s awareness awareness week, are you aware?

and it’s a baseball cap, not a thought shield

and it makes me look less gay, i’m straight by the way

but i’m trying not to let it get to my head

now self awareness sold out

and that’s just as well

cause there’s other things you ought to try

there's this theme, there's this party

but it's sad to think that it might have been nothing but

an old time caffeine rush, those childhood riffs

when i spun straw into gold, grooved on gray skies

when the world didn't see things my way

and people were cross and country was friendly

it's sad to think it was only the candybar

i'd eaten and forgotten

back when a snickers cost eighty five cents

and choco wasn't drugs

well the drugs stopped working

and the magic isn't real

tarot says i've still got the power to heal

but i'll die before finishing med school

astroturf

freudian grip’s slipping, might need a second opinion, as long as she’s a professional, maybe a mermaid, i’ll drown if you advise me to in ondine tones

basked in that old time bowie glow, videos meant for the precise state of mind i was in, new psychoactives, and it’s 2008, when did that happen? telephragm zam, hard, nigh impossible to be as artfully crazy as those 60s 70s 80s icons, now it’s michael bolton crazy now that so many dates have lapsed – been stood up by apocalypse yet again, still standing, strung out on heaven’s high hitting an all time low – this string doesn’t stretch far enough, lost elasticity, i’m bunching up – my last temptation, a hallucination on the electric chair

shampoo arsenal

coconut jizz flowing through my folicles, icecream runs of a fruit crisp, the best dessert they have at the hume, at your service

"yeah, it's radical, isn't it?"

"Yeah, it's totally radical," Anthony agrees. He discovered the word last night, he thinks he may have heard it from his dad. "It means, 'we agree'."

"Does it?" He reminds me of sentence case. It's an endless trial. The trial of the millenium. Italian folicles?

"No, it means cool."

"No, it means, 'we agree'," Anthony says, annotating the phrase splice. A natural breaking point. Con fuoco.

"Anyway, what you were saying about the new playground..."

"Oh right, thanks for reminding me dude." I just learned that word yesterday, hanging out with the cool seventh grade dudes. Too cool for school. What are they doing here? Kicking balls off the wall. Kicking them out of bounds. It was mesmerizing watching them. They think I'm cute. I'm a 2nd grade comp prog math whiz - number muncher - factoring is my favourite game - i munch numbers - slow on the uptake though - computers arrest my attention - people, not so munch - languages, con migo

"You were saying?"

I've got Anthony's attention. He's hanging on my every word. I'd better have a good one. Well that's what I'm here for. I want to entertain him while he's as suggestible as me. While we're hanging out at recess, this is what we do, passing the time. It's radical.

"It'll be a meander. A meander through the stars."

"Yeah? A meyander? That sounds radical."

"Yeah, it totally will be."

"But I'm thinking more like, a meander through the gravel."

A gravel meander? Yeah, what more can you expect at recess? But you can express, if you're into that sort of thing. Many numbers to munch. Many factors. Factoring is one thing I'm good at that and I remember. I will take advantage of his suggestible state.

I just want to entertain. I know it will crash. My fantasies will entertain, inspire, light up his eyes, I see that, I dare not look but I taste that light in the peripherals, in the reflections in the gravel, in the rain coated pebbles in the cold november rain, it's hard to hold a candle like axl sings, he's keeping the fire burning, Justin told me so, I haven't heard the originals but I've heard Justin's renderings, he introduces us to all the cool music, Nirvana, Pearl Jam, Red Hot Chili Peppers, Guns N Roses, I smoke my cigarette with style, that's so wrong. Gravel mining with ice cream sundae driping off our folicles, it could be your trip.

"Gravel meander? I choose to disagree."

Anyway, I will strive to entertain, but I don't have the talent to sustain this fantasy of mine for longer than this recess or maybe another two. All will be made clear after Volleyball class.

If we had to thank all the fuckers who have been cool to us in the two and a half years since 'puppets':

A: Long lists are fucking boring

B: Do you really give a shit anyway?

I don't have the talent, but I can and will take advantage of that light in our eyes and that gleam in my folicles and the promise of dairy queen tonight after baseball practice if god is granting favors today, I daren't ask - suggestions:

"Yeah, well did I tell you about the tower? Yeah, they're gonna build it in the corner over there. My dad showed me the plans. What I heard is they're gonna show movies in there three times a week."

"Yeah? Radical. What movies?"

"Star Wars. Rambo."

The light brightens. Goes well with the overcast concrete. Creep Street.

"Yeah, Rambo I, II, III... IV. Did you see that one?"

"No. But I will right?"

"Yeah, let's watch it next week when they build the new playground."

breakfast with hector

breakfast under duress

never again will i acknowledge their consciousness
never again

yes, i know, genocide flows like blood through the veins of demography
killers are fecund, they will reproduce, their deeds will recur
but it must never again happen to us
or at least me

i'm going to take a dive in a shallow pool
throw the fight, gets me through the day
another opportunity to break the fast
breakroom confidential
would you like some pepperoni on your intermezzo?
tombstone pizza
but no siesta yet
forget i said anything

nobody better call in any favors
i dosed heroically on psilo shrooms last night, barely slept
today i'm a rusty squeezebox, wrought, wrung out, dry
trying to work, succeeding, barely motivated by my paycheque
i think i'm owed more than i owe anyway
nobody better call in any favors
you don't want to calculate
and i'm too tired to calculate

upon arrival, a rare vitality, the scene - contact buzz everyone beautiful, witty, goofy, loud - set up camp, share beer, tequila, smokes, stories, introductions all around, everyone's cool, the 20 year old first timer... camp sprawl looking for k, hard to find, plenty of everything else though - expensive food, expensive cloths, cheap drugs...

we hit the rave, hitting peak hours, through the forest and clearings from stage to stage, through town, the energy ramping up and up and up, lasers pulsing, fireworks crackling, people cheering, stoners giggling - decorations, ornaments, spray art, glowpaint are at an unprecedented density and aesthetic coherency retaining diversity... the "enchanted forest", it's official, i'm enchanted, our hangout, saving that hit of blotter for later, and everyone wanders through, the locals, the albertans, the lost, the found - a table with geometric playthings, lights everywhere, every color, a communal croquet set in the dirt, a tea stand with a donation jar - our newfound aussie friend offers

i take it, don't need to fake it, take things, everything in every orifice, pills and more pills, don't care anymore, i'll try everything, he's not gonna lie to me, those pills are mostly meth, but okay that'll work, that'll work, take things, more things, stay awake, can't sleep, wish i could, try to sleep, paranoid, having fun, not having fun, yayo gets me high still at least, just want to be somewhere else, home, i know home will feel fake, but it will feel sort of perversely genuine at the same time, moreso than this, this isn't home, this is camp fake and i'm drinking the koolaid, drunk on koolaid but i can still leave, it's not the hotel california, i'm jonesying for anywhere but jonestown, no one's willing to help, my campmates don't want to drive, niki's sigh is a death knell, the guilty verdict, my personality rendered void

i say i'll pay you anything just drive me out of here cause i can't sleep and i can't trust anyone, i hate this place and everyone here, and obviously you can't help me, so i'll have to do it myself, try and misassemble my tent, deassemble, detelescope, assume the worst, make an ass out of you and me, a monument to failure, being emblematic of shambhala, being the dregs, decrepit wheel rolling in the dirt, trying to try, failing to try, unable to sleep, still, so sickly aware, dead sentient

run into tony, finally, he drives me home, a messianic mission, ain't nothin but a thing - i try to be calm in the car, chat with the hitchhiker, smoke
"so, you about sick of this whole scene?"
"yep"
"was fun for a while, but i've had about enough"

thank god there are one or two decent people left
get home, sleep forever, no neverland, no nothing

i'd play you a song right now, if anything was real
unfortunately reality proved hallucination
like the old heads used to say
and there's nothing to play
my playlist has dwindled
to nada
nothing works
nothing should work
to work would be perverse
working order a grating alien imposition
intolerable, murderous, poisonous
even moreso than the chaos
chaos is at least mercifully meaningless
what works is nothing, i should die, today's the day
if i had motivation

well tomorrow's another day
hope it never comes
i can't believe the poisons i ingest
one day it will take a toll
today i don't remember, can't believe, won't believe
rose would make me feel better, she will make me feel better
one of these days, soon, but
i need to treat her right
i try sometimes

seven seas of rye

what's up? have you ascended yet? if you ever wanna descend, there's a vast plane awaiting

allegro ma non troppo