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
2/24/12
2/23/12
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
2/17/12
2/16/12
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
2/10/12
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.
2/07/12
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
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
________________________________
-
-
-
-
-
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
________________________________
-
-
-
-
-
1/27/12
new album finished
yeah, i've been working on an album for the last several months... a collaborative album with musical contributions by the clientele of the organization i've worked at for most of the past year and a bit, For the Love of Learning
now that I'm done there and focusing on universiticity, i've made the final push to "complete" the album, even though i could have easily spent another year refining all the tracks - but i gotta declare the thing done and move on... maybe i'll even start blogging again now - in words, even
but i figured, if i'm hardly writing anything on my blog lately, i might as well at least post some of the music i've been driving away at for a while now - two or three of the tracks are my own songs or compositions that feature rob keyes on guitar, or erin piatt on vocals, and stuff like that, so i'll link to them, cause they're the kind of tracks i would put up on here anyway, in the normal course of things...
some of the tracks are very much the property of the songwriters or lyricists themselves, so i probably won't post those on this blog, cause i don't know if it's cool with the authors, and i don't know if FTLOL would want me to just up and make the whole thing available - although, shhhh.... don't tell anybody... but it all IS in fact available, even before they've re-designed the album art! but that's a secret... between me my self-selected super-elite readership
Gower Street Jam (with Rob Keyes)
an instrumental that i put on cause there weren't enough songs, so it's sort of a slop art piece, but i liked how it turned out - gives a good sense of rob's live playing... even though it's not a live jam exactly - i had "tryppy keys" as a placeholder title, because of the keyboard track that i'd pre-recorded (and because it makes a stupid pun) - i got rob to play bass and then guitar to the track, live at the gower street church basement computer "lab" where we used to be before FTLOL moved to waypoints and then cookstown road
Taxing You (with Andrew Harvey)
the most recent song i've finished - lyrics from a poem i wrote, which i think the horsefly lit mag published a couple years ago, which was inspired by something that happened to my friend jennifer's oldest son while working at wal-mart - when FTLOL moved to waypoints, we had a social worker doing a placement with us, and he volunteered to give me some material to help with my collaborative album - that turned out to be a bassline which sounded like 3 chord punk to me, and fit perfectly with the melody i still had in mind that i'd use if i ever turned those words into a song... thus, a song was born - he also did some freaking out on guitar for me, using the little music room they had at waypoints, filled up with amps and axes - so every bit of guitar in that song is solely from that freak-out session, that was the challenge i set myself, and i think it creates a nice gritty cohesion, and also nicely de-popifies the sound, stylistically
and i'll post the lyrics, as is my custom, in case i didn't eq up the high end enough for you to hear the vox clearly:
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 ipad, you want a new car
the taxes won't kill you but the price of gas will
so tired, i’ll take a cab home today
so here’s another ride on you
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 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
now that I'm done there and focusing on universiticity, i've made the final push to "complete" the album, even though i could have easily spent another year refining all the tracks - but i gotta declare the thing done and move on... maybe i'll even start blogging again now - in words, even
but i figured, if i'm hardly writing anything on my blog lately, i might as well at least post some of the music i've been driving away at for a while now - two or three of the tracks are my own songs or compositions that feature rob keyes on guitar, or erin piatt on vocals, and stuff like that, so i'll link to them, cause they're the kind of tracks i would put up on here anyway, in the normal course of things...
some of the tracks are very much the property of the songwriters or lyricists themselves, so i probably won't post those on this blog, cause i don't know if it's cool with the authors, and i don't know if FTLOL would want me to just up and make the whole thing available - although, shhhh.... don't tell anybody... but it all IS in fact available, even before they've re-designed the album art! but that's a secret... between me my self-selected super-elite readership
Gower Street Jam (with Rob Keyes)
an instrumental that i put on cause there weren't enough songs, so it's sort of a slop art piece, but i liked how it turned out - gives a good sense of rob's live playing... even though it's not a live jam exactly - i had "tryppy keys" as a placeholder title, because of the keyboard track that i'd pre-recorded (and because it makes a stupid pun) - i got rob to play bass and then guitar to the track, live at the gower street church basement computer "lab" where we used to be before FTLOL moved to waypoints and then cookstown road
Taxing You (with Andrew Harvey)
the most recent song i've finished - lyrics from a poem i wrote, which i think the horsefly lit mag published a couple years ago, which was inspired by something that happened to my friend jennifer's oldest son while working at wal-mart - when FTLOL moved to waypoints, we had a social worker doing a placement with us, and he volunteered to give me some material to help with my collaborative album - that turned out to be a bassline which sounded like 3 chord punk to me, and fit perfectly with the melody i still had in mind that i'd use if i ever turned those words into a song... thus, a song was born - he also did some freaking out on guitar for me, using the little music room they had at waypoints, filled up with amps and axes - so every bit of guitar in that song is solely from that freak-out session, that was the challenge i set myself, and i think it creates a nice gritty cohesion, and also nicely de-popifies the sound, stylistically
and i'll post the lyrics, as is my custom, in case i didn't eq up the high end enough for you to hear the vox clearly:
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 ipad, you want a new car
the taxes won't kill you but the price of gas will
so tired, i’ll take a cab home today
so here’s another ride on you
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 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
1/24/12
1/12/12
from the toshiba user's manual:
always keep fingers away from the sides of the tray when closing the tray of an optical drive (CD/DVD/Blu-ray Disc Drive) to avoid pinching your fingers
awww... that's so adorable - cause when those disc drives start closing, they're gonna close, and if you have a finger inside the tray for some reason, when it closes, you're gonna get an awful... little pinch - owey! toshiba's like my doting grandparent
wish i could tell you about it over the phone, bb, hopefully soon - you'll be up "late", won't you? miss you, sweetie
awww... that's so adorable - cause when those disc drives start closing, they're gonna close, and if you have a finger inside the tray for some reason, when it closes, you're gonna get an awful... little pinch - owey! toshiba's like my doting grandparent
wish i could tell you about it over the phone, bb, hopefully soon - you'll be up "late", won't you? miss you, sweetie
1/04/12
ornt
Remember that big wide world of shit? It's here again, cept this time I've got a cellphone. And something to write on it! Please don't you comment on the merits or lack thereof contained in me being "back" in school. It is what it is, might be muonic. That's my mnemonic.
Haha, never had no peers. Without peers, I. Calming modern pop, mildly "indie", not obnoxiously so... This is gonna be the start of a blogging season, if nothing else. Maybe I can even do it without drugs! I did once, long long ago, without even trying!
Maybe sketching season too... Under duress... Black dudes with dense bone structures, or is it light bone structures? Asian kids with natural work ethics, or are they nurtured? Everyone with cells. We can all burn idle time in this information age, but i need to torch it more ferociously than anyone because I'm the only one on the bleachers with this ridiculous backpack apparatus. I should have a slide rule in there. Yes, turn up the temperature on this idle incineration, increase the kelvins. Soon they'll be nodding their heads to references I don't get, but they won't be stupid pop culture refs, or next-gen acronyms, they'll be deep cultural and intellectual touchstones I should know. Hell, I should be bringing ones with me here to fertilize the soil. Grinding them into the ground. To belabor the metaphor.
Students working shit campus jobs. Why is this taking so long? Gonna have to break away from the pack by breaking out my headphones.
Okay, no space. Yeah, I know, gimme my space. Every province had its own brand of surficial stoopid.
Aah, my system of toxic comfort running on maximal efficiency. Toque pulled down, music cranked. In the downtrodden element. I can put this straight to blogger with a wireless text send, somewhat precognized in the morning's couch dream.
Well of course I'd be in high school again, having insisted on being stubbornly observant of the letter of the law for a token dash start, and signed up to be reoriented. Jacks of orient are surrounding me, with a respectful buffer.
Can I forget by osmosis? I don't want to hear this conversation happening next to me.
12/08/11
fuck
2nd guess - oh wait, i already said that - head ache - i said it better before - grow up and blow away - toxemia and atrophy - sounds deadly, does it? it's sickly, i'd say
so, i need food, despite what my stomach says
i don't want to take instruction - fuck instruction - i know you know things, academicians - between me and gee oh dee, well, i think there's something to be said for this dirty cleanliness, and going to my meeting, the original twelve step meeting to do with substance abuse - but there's too much on my mind, plate - i want to slough off these ambitions, to be this great person
holy jesus, apocalyptic gusts of wind - maybe we need a disaster - by the way, that's a dumb thing to say
calcium tums taste lovely, tangy fruit flavoured chalk - tums and eno effervescing powder are the best things in life right now - calcium with sodium citrate in tandem break the back of evil, fill the gaps in my body and mind and soul and right this sinking ship, let's pretend - it'll keep me able to function marginally before the gig i will get through, the audition i won't pass - maybe i won't go - i want to run away, or hide, or both - i want to be somewhere else - i don't want to be entwined - i want to unhook from the gears of this people machine
whatever, just a whim - what i mostly want is some magic and miracle, and money, and the moon - i hate just about everything, my mood is awful as of this writing - it's nice to be able to write about it a bit, though, i haven't done that in a while - i'll write, despite how it sounds, in spite of how mediocre this is - it's a hide hole wallow hollow, but not entirely empty - there's not a lot of hope, there's a hole in the serotonin bucket, or something that feels like that - it's depression, but i can see it's a part of the cycle - i have to live and work with the hole, but some sort of gauzy layer will blow it over in the next sandstorm, and cover the hole in the hydraulic thermodynamics of this machine, and then i won't have to live and work with the hole for another little while - and then it will be there again - i don't have to sleep with the hole though, my dreams bail me out
but they contain the beautiful person i'm on the rocks with, and that's okay, if it's in my dreams, it's okay - my mind is not, though - i'm in a hollow, and i want to be at peace in this hollow for a while, an indefinite period, hibernate - that isn't going to happen of course - of course, just to state the obvious, or make what ought to be obvious obvious, and qualify, and quantify, for insurance purposes, and append every possible permutation of caveat to every clause of the contract, cause everything is contractual and consensual, that's the only sense there is in it, chasing your own tail in hindu modernity, talking yourself out of buying the $100 i-rig
it's sad that i managed to turn spirituality into a dirty word - corruption, cancer - i made words dirty - i MADE everything CONTRIVED - haha
when i tumble out of the hollow, i'll meet life on life's terms halfway with fakery, and say: yeah, there's value in the real, that's where all this good stuff that i can't express in words really is, that's where it lives
the spider plants have gone without water for two extra days - but they'll be alright i guess - piles of things accumulate, obligations i heap on myself - setting myself up... what would happen if i stayed in my living room, and lived, and shrugged everything off? i don't know, it sounds lovely though - a wonderful fantasy - i can die now, or be dead to the world, go into a coma - i've strained and struggled and i haven't come up with NOTHING goddamnit, i've written a very good letter of support for For the Love of Learning to HRLE, so i've been useful that way, and i've pretty much finished that song of Rob's that's been sitting around forever, and he wasn't even expecting me to actually get it done, and it's quality work, and a good legacy, something i did for rob, and myself, and the place i work for, a high note to go out on - sure there's a thousand other projects that are undone, but so fucking what? i took on too much
i want to detach from everything, gee oh dee, i so want to do that - harder to do when there are no drugs allowed in my diet - so be it - i'll say it in my own way, how i want to say it
so, i need food, despite what my stomach says
i don't want to take instruction - fuck instruction - i know you know things, academicians - between me and gee oh dee, well, i think there's something to be said for this dirty cleanliness, and going to my meeting, the original twelve step meeting to do with substance abuse - but there's too much on my mind, plate - i want to slough off these ambitions, to be this great person
holy jesus, apocalyptic gusts of wind - maybe we need a disaster - by the way, that's a dumb thing to say
calcium tums taste lovely, tangy fruit flavoured chalk - tums and eno effervescing powder are the best things in life right now - calcium with sodium citrate in tandem break the back of evil, fill the gaps in my body and mind and soul and right this sinking ship, let's pretend - it'll keep me able to function marginally before the gig i will get through, the audition i won't pass - maybe i won't go - i want to run away, or hide, or both - i want to be somewhere else - i don't want to be entwined - i want to unhook from the gears of this people machine
whatever, just a whim - what i mostly want is some magic and miracle, and money, and the moon - i hate just about everything, my mood is awful as of this writing - it's nice to be able to write about it a bit, though, i haven't done that in a while - i'll write, despite how it sounds, in spite of how mediocre this is - it's a hide hole wallow hollow, but not entirely empty - there's not a lot of hope, there's a hole in the serotonin bucket, or something that feels like that - it's depression, but i can see it's a part of the cycle - i have to live and work with the hole, but some sort of gauzy layer will blow it over in the next sandstorm, and cover the hole in the hydraulic thermodynamics of this machine, and then i won't have to live and work with the hole for another little while - and then it will be there again - i don't have to sleep with the hole though, my dreams bail me out
but they contain the beautiful person i'm on the rocks with, and that's okay, if it's in my dreams, it's okay - my mind is not, though - i'm in a hollow, and i want to be at peace in this hollow for a while, an indefinite period, hibernate - that isn't going to happen of course - of course, just to state the obvious, or make what ought to be obvious obvious, and qualify, and quantify, for insurance purposes, and append every possible permutation of caveat to every clause of the contract, cause everything is contractual and consensual, that's the only sense there is in it, chasing your own tail in hindu modernity, talking yourself out of buying the $100 i-rig
it's sad that i managed to turn spirituality into a dirty word - corruption, cancer - i made words dirty - i MADE everything CONTRIVED - haha
when i tumble out of the hollow, i'll meet life on life's terms halfway with fakery, and say: yeah, there's value in the real, that's where all this good stuff that i can't express in words really is, that's where it lives
the spider plants have gone without water for two extra days - but they'll be alright i guess - piles of things accumulate, obligations i heap on myself - setting myself up... what would happen if i stayed in my living room, and lived, and shrugged everything off? i don't know, it sounds lovely though - a wonderful fantasy - i can die now, or be dead to the world, go into a coma - i've strained and struggled and i haven't come up with NOTHING goddamnit, i've written a very good letter of support for For the Love of Learning to HRLE, so i've been useful that way, and i've pretty much finished that song of Rob's that's been sitting around forever, and he wasn't even expecting me to actually get it done, and it's quality work, and a good legacy, something i did for rob, and myself, and the place i work for, a high note to go out on - sure there's a thousand other projects that are undone, but so fucking what? i took on too much
i want to detach from everything, gee oh dee, i so want to do that - harder to do when there are no drugs allowed in my diet - so be it - i'll say it in my own way, how i want to say it
12/07/11
12/01/11
the judicial branch
quite frankly, if i hear the phrase "quite frankly" one more time, i'm going to scream - to give you my judicial branch credentials, i feel like many great things were said, and continue to be said, at the meeting - a certain amount of repetition and cycle is necessary - can you be judicial in return and take it on faith that from my perspective, being the fourth person and fifth wheel, not being acknowledged or looked at, that i'd gotten the gist of the feeling of the meeting an hour ago, and i had the gist before then anyway? i don't know what i can add, not being part of the managerial process - i didn't sign up for the managerial process, and wasn't asked to be part of it - so i get a little antsy at the long long meetings that repeat themselves endlessly, quite frankly - of course it's work, i didn't mean to imply it's not, just that it isn't a very good use of my time, when i'm not asked to be included in any decision-making or agenda-shaping
yes, i could be involved i guess - i guess you expect me to jump in and start skeet-shooting ideas for you to blow away in mid-air, but i'm a thin-skinned mofo, and i don't like having my ideas shot down, unless i think there might be at least one that has a chance of getting through - i have to know that i'm not fractally wrong, and that some effort might pay off eventually - and besides that, i'm a thin-skinned mofo, and i don't know if i know anything, except that
just between me and gee oh dee... and my poor blog - poor god - but god is a much richer entity for having gotten to know me, aren't ye, god? aren't you a lucky god? count your blessings
economics is for shoemakers, i won't place limits on my design - excess lace up stitch up fuckup - ah, mayun, i miss aesthetics, i didn't realize how much until now, feeling the pang, i've gotten the gist of that feeling, no meeting necessary
11/15/11
10/25/11
praying for the timestamp to disappear
poor blog, i never write
poor woman, i never need
lethargically heartfelt
birth and death in a water-maze
i knew cheese
i will lean on trazzies tonight - it's almost like i need them - quasi-desperation - still can't say what i want - it's a situation i got into, entirely my fault - fyi - fmi - for my eyes
talismanic artifacts cataloged in an academic database
sublevel ten - what i think of as creativity these days would have been contrivance years ago - a sad slide - i'll call it wisdom - this isn't reaching out, honest - i'm lying down to listen to my stomach churn like it does now, this is my life now - artists are external, the world does music, not me - i'm making peripheral use of this infrastructure while galaxies die on the other side of the torus universe, fyi, fmi
asdfl;kjasdf;lksjdfl;ksjdf;lkjasdfl;kasjdfl;ksjdfl;ksjdfl;ksjdfl;aksjdf;lkjasdfl;ksjdfl;kasdjf
poor woman, i never need
lethargically heartfelt
birth and death in a water-maze
i knew cheese
i will lean on trazzies tonight - it's almost like i need them - quasi-desperation - still can't say what i want - it's a situation i got into, entirely my fault - fyi - fmi - for my eyes
talismanic artifacts cataloged in an academic database
sublevel ten - what i think of as creativity these days would have been contrivance years ago - a sad slide - i'll call it wisdom - this isn't reaching out, honest - i'm lying down to listen to my stomach churn like it does now, this is my life now - artists are external, the world does music, not me - i'm making peripheral use of this infrastructure while galaxies die on the other side of the torus universe, fyi, fmi
asdfl;kjasdf;lksjdfl;ksjdf;lkjasdfl;kasjdfl;ksjdfl;ksjdfl;ksjdfl;aksjdf;lkjasdfl;ksjdfl;kasdjf
10/14/11
caulk the wagon and float it
climb every mountain
ford every stream
write something random
until you find your dream
ford every stream
write something random
until you find your dream
10/13/11
10/12/11
hotel newfoundland
looks like a club, as seen on tv, with shots of pretty people laughing, and two or three visible minorities during the race-related routines - there's an eye-straining cathode ray glow lighting the corner of a fifth floor liquor-bottle littered sheraton hotel room - it sounds like the registered guest is laughing a little, just a bit aloft, a little above the booze-induced depression, cause that was a clever bit, a reference he got, and he feels like one of the patrons of the fake tv comedy club, fifty-four or some number, one of the just-drunk-enough patrons, perennially moderate
smells like vodka and mentos, and halls lozenges in case the freshmaker won't cover enough - the void needs entertainment, he hasn't run out of references yet, there's still shallow ditches to plumb, there's something somewhere that hasn't been made fun of yet
comedy lives in fiber-optic cables like blood cells, constituents of maximal entertainment, abused endorphins - if it could talk, it would tell the registered guest in room 513, hey, nevermind this sorry situation, nevermind you got kicked out of your home, homes are for old folks and retards, it's all a lot of bullshit, did you hear the one about the drunk, the cabin, and the dildo?
10/05/11
it's the old civic center circus - i don't know how they fit this dark, bowl-shaped auditorium in the civic center - there's a ringmaster of course, shouting in between snippets of bears, elephants, tigers, rings of fire, showers of popcorn, hordes of children with the odd parent or guardian like a dandelion poking out a field of grass - there's all the expected circus stuff
the circus segues into a coloring book, with trademarked images of looney toon/disney characters, also with a circus theme - the coloring book becomes something like a crossword puzzle, which is superimposed on the circus scene which has become a tall ramshackle wooden building with many rooms that wraps, thematically and structurally, to the contours of the crossword puzzle, it's not a grid but rather, it's got lines crisscrossing a field of dim purple twilight sky - the solving of the clues involves keenly observing the circus scene overlaid on the house/crossword and figuring out what certain events transpired, and what the narrative of the circus is overall - this necessitates skipping around the timeline, forward and back through the events of the circus/cartoon - there are cartoon characters, but the scenes have a live-action look
i'm still trying to solve the last few clues, there's some frustration, but also exhiliration, that i'm almost there, i'll get it with just a bit more strain, and what will i get if i get all the clues? something pretty cool, no doubt - but i'm whisked away from this scene because i need to be in a planetarium - i feel microscopic though, a miniature being next to a giant chair next to an imax dome screen - it's got the same dark/flashy feel as the civic center circus but less crowded - there are massive looney tune characters floating above me in 3d projection, but they're more than projections, they're real somehow, and they're a family of mooninites, like the aqua teen characters, there's a massive Inignot, and several more members of his "family" who look like variations - they're floating with zen austerity, and i wish they would acknowledge me, but they're on some other level - i wonder where Er is? there's a salvia feel to this part too, with all of existence to one side of me being an infinitely regressing taffy-chasm - the mooninite family is constructed of light particles forming a dense laser lattice - i'm awed at the spectacle
then i'm in a room in the crossword puzzle building - i didn't realize the building was so big that it could contain a whole disparate section with its own office-like theme - this room has a "being in a school-room during summer vacation" sort of feel - there's a post-secondary physics teacher here in the room with me and no one else - actually, the physics teacher is in the next room, which is an office next to the classroom that i'm in - there's a flourescent yellow glow and sterile tables and chairs - i'm at a desk - this is my first day on the job, before school starts, and i'd better hurry up and get to it, and prepare some sort of a lesson plan for the students that will be filling this room in a week or two - because i'm not at all prepared to present material i don't even know myself
the physics teacher comes into the classroom, because he knows he needs to actually teach me the math before i can teach it to anyone else - there's a cold and impersonal feel to this - i'm in a vast system and i'm going to get ground by the gears, probably - no, don't take that attitude, pay attention, time is of the essence, i tell myself - the teacher opens a textbook and quickly breezes through several math problems by way of demonstration - i nod, pretending to understand, but i don't have a clue, i don't see a way into this - i can't talk to this guy...
interesting how transcribing a dream destroys my ability to recall it with any fidelity afterward - as soon as i commit words to describing a part of it, that part becomes terminally ensnared by the words, and the memory is compromised - still there, but twisted thereafter, distorted from the purity of the cerebral mockup that i call "pure", because it has a certain integrity, but is also a distortion of the actual dream itself, if such a thing exists
the circus segues into a coloring book, with trademarked images of looney toon/disney characters, also with a circus theme - the coloring book becomes something like a crossword puzzle, which is superimposed on the circus scene which has become a tall ramshackle wooden building with many rooms that wraps, thematically and structurally, to the contours of the crossword puzzle, it's not a grid but rather, it's got lines crisscrossing a field of dim purple twilight sky - the solving of the clues involves keenly observing the circus scene overlaid on the house/crossword and figuring out what certain events transpired, and what the narrative of the circus is overall - this necessitates skipping around the timeline, forward and back through the events of the circus/cartoon - there are cartoon characters, but the scenes have a live-action look
i'm still trying to solve the last few clues, there's some frustration, but also exhiliration, that i'm almost there, i'll get it with just a bit more strain, and what will i get if i get all the clues? something pretty cool, no doubt - but i'm whisked away from this scene because i need to be in a planetarium - i feel microscopic though, a miniature being next to a giant chair next to an imax dome screen - it's got the same dark/flashy feel as the civic center circus but less crowded - there are massive looney tune characters floating above me in 3d projection, but they're more than projections, they're real somehow, and they're a family of mooninites, like the aqua teen characters, there's a massive Inignot, and several more members of his "family" who look like variations - they're floating with zen austerity, and i wish they would acknowledge me, but they're on some other level - i wonder where Er is? there's a salvia feel to this part too, with all of existence to one side of me being an infinitely regressing taffy-chasm - the mooninite family is constructed of light particles forming a dense laser lattice - i'm awed at the spectacle
then i'm in a room in the crossword puzzle building - i didn't realize the building was so big that it could contain a whole disparate section with its own office-like theme - this room has a "being in a school-room during summer vacation" sort of feel - there's a post-secondary physics teacher here in the room with me and no one else - actually, the physics teacher is in the next room, which is an office next to the classroom that i'm in - there's a flourescent yellow glow and sterile tables and chairs - i'm at a desk - this is my first day on the job, before school starts, and i'd better hurry up and get to it, and prepare some sort of a lesson plan for the students that will be filling this room in a week or two - because i'm not at all prepared to present material i don't even know myself
the physics teacher comes into the classroom, because he knows he needs to actually teach me the math before i can teach it to anyone else - there's a cold and impersonal feel to this - i'm in a vast system and i'm going to get ground by the gears, probably - no, don't take that attitude, pay attention, time is of the essence, i tell myself - the teacher opens a textbook and quickly breezes through several math problems by way of demonstration - i nod, pretending to understand, but i don't have a clue, i don't see a way into this - i can't talk to this guy...
interesting how transcribing a dream destroys my ability to recall it with any fidelity afterward - as soon as i commit words to describing a part of it, that part becomes terminally ensnared by the words, and the memory is compromised - still there, but twisted thereafter, distorted from the purity of the cerebral mockup that i call "pure", because it has a certain integrity, but is also a distortion of the actual dream itself, if such a thing exists
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