I find it rich, rewarding and increasingly necessary to start
my day off with a steaming cup of mud and Adamari’s gorgeous gams. They
are life affirming. They are everything. Magenta this
morning. Please remove them. I strongly desire slavery. For
myself of course. I’m not making any sort of political statement
here. I don’t get political. If denier were introduced into the mix
the resulting combination would highly explosive and utterly unstoppable.
One day, may I see this wettest of dreams become a reality? Only time
will tell. Time. patience. The right berries.
I had an overwhelming urge to listen to Sly and the Family Stone’s classic 1969 album Stand! on vinyl this morning but I don’t actually own that one on vinyl so I was left wanting. Still I remain,ever vigilant, ever waiting for signs of threats extraterrestrial.
The digital video is enchanting. You’ll know what I’m talking about later on. It is so very enchanting. Filler. I need to go back to those dogme (sic) films and catch up. then I need to hitchhike on over to ye olde conglomerate and bite the bullet the same way my faithful comrade in arms did. Everything is better through the glass. There are no limits anymore. We can only see the worst in ourselves. Its very logical. Put your fingers in the dirt. Going to order more Abel soon. As long as I keep drinking coffee maybe that’s the only thing I need to emulate. I definitely don’t have the hair for it.
It’s a most interesting holiday. I should not allow myself to indulge. My reward will be watching a Lynch documentary today. I deserve so little. I’m being encouraged to look for kindness but I don’t know where to start.
I need to catch a big fish. I think a local bookstore can assist me with this. Then I’m going to shell out my life savings to hear a word which will unlock all the mysteries of the universe (shame my particle accelerator is in the shop otherwise I could just use that). I need to reread The Soft Machine very soon. Maybe whilst reading it I’ll also listen to Pretty Hate Machine!
I watched a movie about the forbidden dance of Lambada last night. there still remains one more film to watch on this topic. I am just starting to catch up with Cannon films. I wish the calls would stop. The incessant neediness. Everyone bothering me, talking to me. Why, oh why.
We need to put together a library replete with Swiss skin. Perhaps I can produce Fellini’s next film as well. I’ve been drinking a lot of hot cocoa lately. Black cobras unexpectedly fill the glass as he is once more shamefully controlled by a smaller agent. Are these the mythical glass traps? And that tinfoil hair. Accuracy abounds. However I do not think we will be gods, certainly not I. And beauty would never be so kind. We are controlled by terrible things. in a sense I am always waiting on Luciano. It’s been this way for untold years. Trudging through the snow in the hopes of finding a big brown truck. One piece. Still need to read something to that effect. The first few. The Jackal had me. Then, now and forever. I need to eat something soon. Maybe grab a café. I don’t know much of anything.
Cannon is an utterly inspiring story.
I think I’ll have to watch Inland Empire 17 times in a row. It’s on right now. I think I love Inland Empire. But I’m not really sure. I’m not sure of anything. Caroline Knapp is a good writer. To my knowledge she had nothing to do with Inland Empire.
Perhaps something has died deep inside.
That Altman film is still bouncing around my brain. I think I need to watch it again and seek out similar fare. It haunts me! Haunts!!
Could the Showtime Twin Peaks series be my favorite thing ever? I’m not sure. Only time will tell. But which time? The past or the present? Or somewhere in the future? What year is this?!
The PD150. Oh my PD150! Is this the connection I’ve desperately sought!? Driving around from Station to Station and the 3 and 3 are perfect, just perfect sides, the perfect amount (it would later recall a Blackstar though that was a decidedly more Biblical 7 as opposed to two 3’s!)! But therein, as we were inhaling the floor and running from our man-eating television it all became so clear! Through space and time and through the cosmos he sang about his simultaneous love and fear through a glorious letter and number combination (it begins one side, but one with a 2) and now I may have one of my own! Proconsumer! That’s what I am. So much Sony product placement in this post! I’m just a corporate shill! I wouldn’t have it any other way! Yes! Oh my PD150!!! Oh oh! PD150!
We became different people as we engaged in intercourse. The room turned from blue to black. I can’t force any happy endings.
There are squishy cats on the shrubbery. The music by the same man is questionable. Very. In comparison to the celluloid. I appreciate the passion. No Rodriguez. He is not. Still, what a grandiose ambitious incredibly ugly beautiful thing. I can’t take my burning eyes off it. just as my hands stop working again. I wish I could grab a coffee with Monica Bellucci in my dreams. Maybe she could unravel some of the deepest mysteries of my utterly worthless life.
You are so deeply inspiration. What would I do without you? I need all of you. he said a silent prayer the other day while on cold roads and wondered if it was blasphemous. Is that the right word? It did not feel bad at all. who was listening and who was watching? Does he crave a bit of comfort? How sad.
It was the barefoot match which caused the explosion. Of course, they weren’t really barefoot at all. Not truly. And that’s the point. The most violent. And the darkness. There was only a Jackal missing. And a Huntress. But those come later. Many things will come later. There is an awful cycle. He is the reason and the assailant. There are no victims in this.
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