I always love the alien (think about it!)

The end needs to be set to Get Behind Me from Scott Walker’s seminal fourth album 4.  Gads, where would I be without Scott Walker?  I’m going to give them cue cards.  That’s right; I’m going to give the sonsabitches some cue cards.  At some point, I don’t give a shit when, I want you to call him a stupid sonofabitch.  Can you do that for me boss?  And at some point I need you to begin a scintillating discussion about politics.  Don’t look at me, I don’t give a fuck when.  Just fucking do it, ya understand me?  I knew you would.   You are both beautiful.  Sepia tones.  That’s what we need.  Some fucking sepia tones.  I want to see a big fucking glass of lemonade and for it to be the most beautiful fucking glass of lemonade that has ever been conceived and seen by mortal men.  I want the yellows to glisten and glow and destroy retinas with their intensity.  I need you on this.  You’re my tech. 

Oh how I am listening to the 1983 album Let’s Dance by David Bowie this morning.  I swear to everything in the world the vocal to the song Without You is one of the most gorgeous things I have ever heard.  I want to wrap this song around me like a blanket and then go swimming in deep oceans of sensual misgivings.  These days I need to be inside and beside myself to truly understand anything.  Such is the nature of wisdom.  

Oh why were these bestowed upon us in this exact time and place?  I feel I will always be falling for them the rest of my silly little auspicious and sometimes wonderful life.  It’s in my jeans, you understand?   It’s in my genetic code and my hermetic mode.  It’s inside the leaves as much as it is in the plaster.  How can I possibly help myself?  I am entranced every single time.  Ah denier.  How I love to ponder the mystical properties of denier.  Am I to blame for this?  Is it the greatest invention known to mankind?  I suspect so.  It would be such delightful strangulation.  There is so much desire for suffocation and insults. 

She commands him to lick her boot.  Good grief does this actually happen?  I pray that it does.  This is a most unnatural desire.  She is someone so pure.  It is necessary for there to be another.  It cannot be her.  It has to be an evil twin that no one knew about, an evil sadistic twin only interested in her own dominance derived satisfaction.  She loves to intimidate through the simple process of eye contact and her piercing beauty.  

And she orders it.  While he is completely at her mercy and she is savoring every moment, she orders her boot to be cleaned.  And the garb underneath?  Is it black or flesh colored?  No matter, they are equally glorious, most especially because she has had a hard long day of movement and creativity and now wishes to unwind.  The gates to paradise are opened and the air is perfumed and his senses are drowned in ecstasy.  “Pathetic,” she says while laughing, “you are such a loser.  As if I would ever even give you the time of day!  You deserve this and so much worse!  You are my pet from now on and you are going to do exactly as I instruct.”

Scissors, he begs for scissors, all day, every day.  

My heart has a hard time speeding up so I like taking things to facilitate the process.  I wonder if there is malevolent outside intelligence lurking somewhere saying right now it is going to be a pleasure for them to speed up the extinction of the human race.  We truly have outgrown our use.  Yet there are so many pretty things around.  I sometimes imagine as though I have never seen one before and what my reaction would be to seeing one for the first time, hair black as coal.  I think I would likely be quite vocal and explode messily.  

The cutup method sounds inordinately effective.  What a great big beautiful world.  I can see so many colors and I can see for miles.  I really like magenta wrapped tightly.  Magenta is always pleasing to the senses.  

I’d like to finish to finish (mistaken repeated words) that documentary I started earlier.  And then who knows what further zany antics may come my way?!  I think I’ll probably go buy some bread that has a tiny man lurking inside.  I’ll probably listen to some ambient music by Aphex Twin at some point.  Maybe I’ll watch Robert Rodriguez’s 2003 flick Once Upon a Time in Mexico.  That movie means so much to me.  It hit at such a crucial moment in my life and I know I’ll be watching it until the day of my richly deserved demise.  It makes me so happy.  And the blu ray transfer is so beautiful.  

Oh the Nibiru cataclysm.  This is a terrifying reality.  When I think of everything which has been done to cover this up….  We need to make ourselves aware, information is our only ally.  Yet, can knowing possibly have any effect on the outcome?!  Who or what are these forces conspiring against us?  I’ve said it a thousand times before now: I think something is going to be horrid.  There will be a collision.  There will be something that will black the sky.  There’s going to be a reckoning very soon and I can’t sleep anymore.  I feel so afraid all the time.  

In every awful moment I always turn back to my glorious false memory of the dance.  Everyone has masks on except for us.  People, for the most part, are vile.  I think we both feel so wonderfully helpless in that moment.  You are stronger and that is how it should be.  Underneath the mistletoe.  I am a criminal.  

Drink my young friend.  Drink from the mystical rivers of life and discover the effervescent restorative properties of water.  Your life will never be the same!

A man far greater and far more talented than my pathetic self could ever hope to be once said it best: some days I feel tangerine.  

Surely I am not the only one who always thought it made him horny.  This is a third person account.  I know when to go out and when to stay in, get things done.