litany of s (too literal)

Malick’s Song To Song completed a fascinating trilogy.  I’m curious how these films will be viewed decades from now.  

The last episode of Lucha Underground was revelatory.  Did she turn heel?  That is the big question I was left with.  Always a very entertaining performer, it was heartbreaking to see her disqualification and a possible onset in a move away from being a babyface.  I would love to speak with her about it.  Though never breaking kayfabe of course.  Kayfabe is the key.

I looked for purity inside of sin.  The vibes!  The feels!  Track 6 gives it to me!  MJesque?!  There was one point of resistance though it was more dumb luck than anything else.  Don’t credit me with anything please. Bringer of pain.  There is always a summation.  Don’t forget who was standing there alongside the Queen.  A compliment granted to her shirt.  I want to escape to the costume ball.  Only there am I happy.  No Rhapsody, please.  It was grotesque craving, standing alongside there.  obvious.  No one else’s fault.  Those last sweet words were spied.  I did not deserve them.

I now have Haim’s new album and am listening to it as I crap out this latest burst of pointless prose so kindly ignore what I will say later on as it is no longer accurate.  I am surely enjoying it so far.  It is keen growing with this group.  I can’t stand the group Keane though so I now I regret that word choice.  

I have never been a fan of joy (spelled wrong) and the answer lies in Parade, 9.  Scary Monsters is very much everything right now.  I am similarly cowering in a corner, mulling over my broken promise.  How many times have I broken that particular one?  Am I to be banished?  Glassy.  I can only describe those as glassy exteriors which seem altogether appropriate.  Now that she mentions it, some Sign O’ the Times probably would help me too.  But right now I just need all these super creeps (that’s what I am).  I nearly forget that children around the world put camel shit on the walls.  

I am truly disgusting.  Thankfully, there was no Rhapsody in Blue today.  I was allowed something of a reprieve though twas not for like of corrupt trying on my part.  No more Rhapsody, that’s what I need.  That’s one of the last things I need.  No more costume balls. Maybe one but very carefully locked away.  It came down to two out of four in the end.  50% , the kids might say.  ½ if you’re a fraction fan. The opposite of good.  Still, I was spared by half and I thank You for that.  I am sorry but I can’t say that anymore.  My mug shot is too unpolished.    

Arrow’s deluxe blu ray release of Wes Craven’s The Hill Have Eyes is a fucking beautiful package and restoration!  What a gritty and grimy flick!  You know, I actually quite liked Aja’s 2006 remake.  Definitely one of the best horror remakes in my worthless opinion.  Craven’s original A Nightmare on Elm Street is also great, dirty horror.  I don’t mean dirty as sexual either.  Craven often infuses a great grimy aesthetic.  Interesting that he got his start making pornography though.  

And then I realized the pointlessness of pleasure.  The yearning for the empty spurt. It all comes and goes.  We are putrid.  None more than I.  I sought solace in sin.  And my sin has a direct reflection and an immediate consequence. There is pain everywhere.  I wonder if I am evil. 

The Queen of the Guacamole was out in full force today, generous contribution to general crumbling and demise.  She was making her usual prophecies and issuances of priceless advice (to which I am forever in debt) and this time the discourse turned to the age old topic of finance.  The almighty dollar and the loss of so much.  Multas.  Or am I thinking of Tulpas?  I love them both in very different ways.  There was an episode from last year’s season of The X-Files which dealt with a tulpa.  I adored that episode.  Though it was definitely more than a little reminiscent of the 1992 horror flick Candyman.  I adore Candyman.  And the Phillip Glass score!  Speaking of Glass I still need to fucking get those—

Four songs in and I am excitedly enjoying this album!  4 for 4!  Believe it.  One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest is a great movie.  Truly great. 

Tyler the Creator’s 2015 album Cherry Bomb has a striking industrial sound but I wonder if it’s as effective as it’s clear predecessor, Kanye West’s superlative 2013 album Yeezus.  My lower intestine tells me no.  Though Cherry Bomb is certainly a grower and has an always welcome funk element.  I like the covers too.  The literal covers.  I’m interested in his new album as the first couple singles are quite strong.  I still need to buy Haim’s new album!  Maybe on my next trip to Palm Springs!  

Maroon.  I will never forget the sight of maroon.  When she looked at me like I wasn’t even human…I liked it.  

Working backwards I suppose and still operating under largely nameless suppositions.  Or was there something else?  Yes, maybe.  The Linguist?  The Greek?  I need to look back. I need to search deep and look within (hand me that sword and then disappear into the ether why don’t you?!).  This was at the root of it.  The beginning of the failure.  I choose to wallow in sin.  I am a truly ugly person in every sense of the word.  Lovely and perfumed by the morning. It was the finest beginning.  The end of the beginning was confrontation.  I was half-witness.  Blushing.  Happiness tainted by us.  Canon?  They always do that.  It always begins in sin.  I plead to a piece of wood.  I need forgiveness but I need something else more.  Mother of everything.  

Woke up and wanted to cry and die but I only ended up crying. It’s all so pointless.  What’s happened to my sense of humor?  I love track 5, beautiful.  I love this group.  I look forward to growing with them.  Watched You Only Live Twice last night; great classic Bond.  Connery for me.  let's not bring our personal lives into things.  I am awful.  Please only take things out on me.  no on else deserves anything harsh.  I am an awful person.  I am a sinner.  I hate myself.  I often wish for death. 

my little miracle.  that is lovely.  it would be so nice to end there.  if only.  please enjoy that time away.  no thanks necessary for the tip.  

“Shame on all of us,” he said.  Oh, how right you are.  Have truer words ever been spoken?