is it about tech in heat?!

The mad bastard greeted me at midday’s dawn wearing a lime green suit and talking all about compound interest and the recent mineral deposits so prevalent in men of a certain age.  “Please don’t make me eat cockroaches today, mum,” I said in my best baby doll voice, more of a coo really, a gentle lilt in that autumnal breeze which really enhanced the intimacy of the moment.  I briefly wondered if he would bend me over the metal handrail and claim me as his own – both in body and mind – but instead he simply pulled out the latest issue of Lapham’s Quarterly and munched gingerly on a Turkey and Swiss sandwich, checking his watch every seven minutes as a means of protracting the obvious.  I wish I could say I stayed there and ate oyster crackers but the truth is I scampered off to something of an all-purpose utilities store and bought a new Stetson to add to my already formidable collection.  I decided to premiere it later on in the sweltering heat where I would subsequently talk about how much less and less I know about myself.  Dennis was definitely the best Tom.  “You’re fourteen years old!  Fourteen!” the bitch said with her ignorant and ugly mouth.  I could tell he wanted to savagely beat her to death – or at least push her down a flight of stairs in such a way as to ensure neck breakage – but he didn’t have the guts.  Let’s just face facts: he never had the chops, he couldn’t cut the mustard!  

 I was taken aback once more at the disgusting nature of our sexual desires.  They are also replete with a rampant pathetic streak.  We crave a certain stickiness.  We are very much the vermin, filth and pestilence.  I feel sick to my stomach next to my fellow man.  I am the same as any other.  What needy awful things we are. 

What happened to my collection of colorfully painted skulls?  Please don’t make me kiss a dead guy’s jewelry again.  It was so flattering of Mel to remember.  She looked simply gorgeous in that specially designed wedding dress.  Even though she was half-dead I still wanted to be with her; bodies on fire with desire.  Let’s put it all out there for others to see.  We must receive compliments.  Someone please have pity on me and tell me how special I am.  The stars are not the same anywhere.  Anymore.  Pity.  That last half or so has nothing to do with Mel, who is great.  Red sails and thunder rosa! 

I found Alice in Wonderland to be unmitigated dreck and the viewing of it was something of a heartbreaking experience as I have such great love for so many of Tim Burton’s movies (Sleepy Hollow is probably the cutoff point).  I never saw the commercial disappointment Alice Through the Looking Glass (which was not directed by Burton) however composer Danny Elfman did provide the score for both movies and I heard his score for the latter was quite good (though his score for the former was also widely praised).  Herein lies my age-old dilemma: I’ve been on a big Elfman kick lately and would like to acquire both scores for my listening pleasure but I long ago made a silent vow to always watch the movie before listening to the score as the very nature of film music is so beholden to what’s happening on the screen.  Yet the thought of sitting through this movie and watching Johnny Depp for 2 more hours is enough to make me feel reluctance!  You hear that!  You hear my analogy?!  It’s enough to make me feel reluctance! I’m using literary irony here; it’s one of the writer’s sharpest and most powerful tools and can easily be used as a weapon when the situation demands it.  Do I dare purchase and listen to this score without watching the movie?!  Could I possibly live with myself afterward?  I mean, I sit here and these questions weigh so heavily in my mind and I just don’t know what to do about it.  God, I don’t know what to do.  

Jones used to say there’d be a time when we could all lose our minds.  Those truly were the days.  We were living in the end times.  We lived like savages then.  Beautiful savages.  More than people realize, that’s what John said when I showed him.  He didn’t recognize but he still saw.  They’re sending a dummy to….  Still holds up, eh?  Yes it does.  Thank you for the challenge.  Without the challenge I’d be in just as narrow a hallway as that guy!  I’ll probably be seeing the new Spider-Man movie tomorrow or maybe a day or two after that.  Stranger by the Lake was a bold, sly, natty and forceful movie.  Thanks so much for watching out for me.  My goose was almost literally cooked.  ABCD. I keep checking, don’t I?  

But you were right, I said as the nameless woman smiled and nodded.  We are falling in love with an illusion inside the square, a construct.  We invent and project as much as you do.  If only I had more stripes.  Then I would be that much closer.  But we can never really know.  We’re not allowed to know.  

There was that unexpected moment of happiness.  He saw her in that single instant loved her and knew of their entire lives together.  She was wearing purple and walking through in the afternoon sun and she had a baby in her arms.  This is not for me but it is.  He tried so hard to find her.  Even though he always knew right where to look he still explored.  “Awe.”  The alchemist said she would likely never forget.  That time was meant to be something.  She held up her hand and offered it.  What’s your name? 

Watched Lost Highway again the other night.  I simply adore that movie. It is such an inspirational and aspirational work.  

The new Malick and Korean food.  That is my evening.  That is a great evening.  Possibly Naked Lunch sprinkled in.  Can’t forget to look out for—