I would like to be treated by a therapist who openly mocks
me. I’ve often longed to have therapy sessions with someone who’s named
starts with the letter M but only in an alternate reality where the name would
not start with that letter. How much sense does that make? I imagine
some seafood oriented dinners whilst we are somewhere near the Palazo
Vechio. Oh, is it that type of party? Screwdriver straight to the
brain. No, not a screwdriver. Something else.
There was a factory. I think he loves factories and machinery and gears and working parts and wood. I know for a fact that he loves wood.
It was necessary to remove metal and evacuate spheres. Even with the spheres taken care of there is still the psychology to consider. Psychology. How richly appropriate.
I listened to the album Binaural by Pearl Jam a fair amount today. I find it to be one of the most difficult discs in their catalogue but something still keeps me coming back. I also listened to a fair bit of What’s Going On by Marvin Gaye. It is still a perfect album. I attempted to learn the basslines from Breakerfall from the former and What’s Happening Brother from the latter. I was much more successful at one than the other. Jeff Ament and James Jamerson are both awesome and inspiring bassists.
Doing God’s work. Are you going to deny God? Two complete opposite sources. One beautiful and one almost impossibly ugly. I must do my best to forget the ugly one. That is all.
I took a long walk down a taupe colored labyrinth and this was commented on. I could only stare in one direction the entire time. Why, oh why?! This is a question I always ask though it does not bother to ask. We all love temptation. Everything was very soothing. There was colored smoke which entered my pores and filled me with affordable renewable energy. Opposite this there was a graceful waterfall spilling over some rocks. Graceful is an interesting word here; not quite a root word, that is not the right way to put it but I think I know what I mean. Little card. Those were amazing and so tall. They was almost a familiar and joyous pattern, it was so close. Close enough.
There were teal mountains and burnt sienna. These came to mind later on but at the time also. So many questions and history and joyous not tedious at all paperwork. I was working on the finals in high school and college and there was only 5 minutes left and I was not going to be able to finish and it gave me a kind of giddy excitement. I felt the same thing today, didn’t I, I ask to myself?! I had to go to one place to pick up one small thing (it was actually two small things, thin as paper) and then I had to take said thing to a place and that place would send the things to the original place but it all went so very wrong so I no choice but to return to the place and then venture back to the original place, back to where this thick gorgeous madness all began. Oh, he fell so very madly in love. Everything was swaying back and forth. Black and turquoise and black again.
There was a factory. I think he loves factories and machinery and gears and working parts and wood. I know for a fact that he loves wood.
It was necessary to remove metal and evacuate spheres. Even with the spheres taken care of there is still the psychology to consider. Psychology. How richly appropriate.
I listened to the album Binaural by Pearl Jam a fair amount today. I find it to be one of the most difficult discs in their catalogue but something still keeps me coming back. I also listened to a fair bit of What’s Going On by Marvin Gaye. It is still a perfect album. I attempted to learn the basslines from Breakerfall from the former and What’s Happening Brother from the latter. I was much more successful at one than the other. Jeff Ament and James Jamerson are both awesome and inspiring bassists.
Doing God’s work. Are you going to deny God? Two complete opposite sources. One beautiful and one almost impossibly ugly. I must do my best to forget the ugly one. That is all.
I took a long walk down a taupe colored labyrinth and this was commented on. I could only stare in one direction the entire time. Why, oh why?! This is a question I always ask though it does not bother to ask. We all love temptation. Everything was very soothing. There was colored smoke which entered my pores and filled me with affordable renewable energy. Opposite this there was a graceful waterfall spilling over some rocks. Graceful is an interesting word here; not quite a root word, that is not the right way to put it but I think I know what I mean. Little card. Those were amazing and so tall. They was almost a familiar and joyous pattern, it was so close. Close enough.
There were teal mountains and burnt sienna. These came to mind later on but at the time also. So many questions and history and joyous not tedious at all paperwork. I was working on the finals in high school and college and there was only 5 minutes left and I was not going to be able to finish and it gave me a kind of giddy excitement. I felt the same thing today, didn’t I, I ask to myself?! I had to go to one place to pick up one small thing (it was actually two small things, thin as paper) and then I had to take said thing to a place and that place would send the things to the original place but it all went so very wrong so I no choice but to return to the place and then venture back to the original place, back to where this thick gorgeous madness all began. Oh, he fell so very madly in love. Everything was swaying back and forth. Black and turquoise and black again.
Queen Isis. I suppose it started with her but she is far
from the end of it. Skirt is sometimes better, right? But now, after that fateful number everything
is in such clarity. You know, I wanted
to name a pet Tiffany. Would that have
been wrong?
I finished a rather
lovely tome. I imagine loving and
comforting arms at the moment of my death and wonder if I deserve. I would likely conclude that no, I don’t
deserve that. I think I cried several
times today but who can really be sure and more importantly who really gives a
flying fuck?! That is the question (I
have no face). I must do more reading in
regards to various places and sightings.
I don’t suppose I matter very much, do I? I do love the little flip over the top
rope. Oh, I am so unbelievably
awful. Everyone who knows me must hate
me. I am a disgusting ugly awful. I hate myself so much. Did I cry yesterday? Probably. I am just a colossal ugly worthless
fuckup. Nothing more but possibly something
less. I need to remember to recommend that
friend of a friend the graphic novel I mentioned at the birthday party. Oh I am
fucking ugly and stupid and worthless. Sometimes I feel like I’m choking, like I
actually cannot breathe and it is because of how fucking stupid and repulsive
and ugly and disgusting and useless I am.
Fuck I fucking hate myself so fucking much.
At last 10:08 (reverse two of those numbers) arrives and I am elated though at the same time my rich doom may be sealed. Every square can be made out. It was wrapped around my head while it was still on the glass.
Tactile. I must stick things to it and then and then add the colors. I need the texture and fullness of it all. this can be a tribute to everything. every small minor tiny thing.
And I’ll be back tomorrow! Isn’t the most crazy damndest thing of all!? You never learn! Someone said that to me in liquid form. A prophet was making guacamole. Guacamole was then in her shoes by grace and stayed there throughout the entire day before being forcibly inserted into his mouth at the end of the day while she berated him! Prophet to prophet perhaps?!
He was not expecting one so full and volumptuos! How could he?! So tempestuous! So wonderous! Delete the address! Delete the address. Tomorrow morning then guac then coffee then spheres. (P)
Tactile again. Yes, tactility. If I only something could be sculpted from all your chewed chewing and/or bubblegum. If only I could be a piece of gum that you chewed (after you recently ate chips or something similarly crunchy) and then spit out and then accidentally stepped on wit those. Tactile. Yes, to be crushed between your teeth.
I love Tim Burton’s original Batman! Great pop art feel! I love the Prince soundtrack for it! Keaton is still the best Batman. BY FAR!!! Basquiat’s paintings and Mark Rothko’s paintings I love!
I watched the documentary David Lynch: The Art Life yesterday and found it to be most inspiring. The new season of Twin Peaks has made me appreciate and even love Inland Empire. And by that I mean I also love the new Twin Peaks season! I guess I’m just a fanboy! I don’t care! Love! Inspiration! Art!
Maybe I should just watch Barry Lyndon again! Too late!
At last 10:08 (reverse two of those numbers) arrives and I am elated though at the same time my rich doom may be sealed. Every square can be made out. It was wrapped around my head while it was still on the glass.
Tactile. I must stick things to it and then and then add the colors. I need the texture and fullness of it all. this can be a tribute to everything. every small minor tiny thing.
And I’ll be back tomorrow! Isn’t the most crazy damndest thing of all!? You never learn! Someone said that to me in liquid form. A prophet was making guacamole. Guacamole was then in her shoes by grace and stayed there throughout the entire day before being forcibly inserted into his mouth at the end of the day while she berated him! Prophet to prophet perhaps?!
He was not expecting one so full and volumptuos! How could he?! So tempestuous! So wonderous! Delete the address! Delete the address. Tomorrow morning then guac then coffee then spheres. (P)
Tactile again. Yes, tactility. If I only something could be sculpted from all your chewed chewing and/or bubblegum. If only I could be a piece of gum that you chewed (after you recently ate chips or something similarly crunchy) and then spit out and then accidentally stepped on wit those. Tactile. Yes, to be crushed between your teeth.
I love Tim Burton’s original Batman! Great pop art feel! I love the Prince soundtrack for it! Keaton is still the best Batman. BY FAR!!! Basquiat’s paintings and Mark Rothko’s paintings I love!
I watched the documentary David Lynch: The Art Life yesterday and found it to be most inspiring. The new season of Twin Peaks has made me appreciate and even love Inland Empire. And by that I mean I also love the new Twin Peaks season! I guess I’m just a fanboy! I don’t care! Love! Inspiration! Art!
Maybe I should just watch Barry Lyndon again! Too late!
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