ja (ms, search ..new shiny, yesterday wit da the third in classic game of 3 combative components)

Woke up with that same awful thing again.  Rather suffocating this time around.  Listened to a bit of Jane and then Joe and then back to the Machine.  I don’t even know what anything means.  Listened to Tyler the Creator yesterday, probably listen to more later today.  Just gotta make it through the day.  I think I can do that.  I am so disgusting.  I feel anxious and trapped inside myself.  I want to cut something out.  I was in the movie theatre yesterday watching Soderbergh’s new movie Unsane.  I thought it was a taught and great little genre piece.  It was during the rousing last third when I realized it was very much a depiction of me on (not quite) celluloid. I shrank back in my seat, terrified of the other two patrons in the theatre as I fully realized what a repellant awful thing I am.  I wish I could make everyone forget who I was.  If I could just start again.  Oh well, I’m sure I’d find some new inventive way to fuck things up.  I need to brush my teeth.  Very little gives me as much satisfaction in life.  The plot points I’ve heard so far regarding Wonder Woman 2 have been few and far between but they leave me excited and intrigued.  I need to obtain Monaco and deconstruction.  Hook and Avery.  In that long interview he was wearing a Basquiat shirt.  I’m a huge Basquiat fan.  I have a coffee table book of his work that’s just lovely. I bought it in Minneapolis.  I like the movie quite a bit too!  It has a few of my favorite people.  Poor dunce.  That’s me!  A small plot of land is so Walker-ish.  Or maybe Walker is so a small plot of landish.  Whatever!  I love  em both!  I’m all about pine weasels and wine tasting these days.  Been re-watching all of peak Peaks.  How I love it.  3 (or is it 4) distinct movements. It’s opening day today, is it not?  Tis way way passed time to leave so many childish and destructive things behind.  I am guilty of everything.  I am terrible.  The destruction of our identities is a very active pursuit. 

I spent some of my night watching Godard’s Hail Mary and – as is so common when I watch any Godard work – not fully comprehending what was going on.  Boy, I’m stupid.  Calypso, the darkness within.  Is the forbidden dance still la lambada?  Suckas gotta know as Stevie Ray would say.  Man I miss the WCW.  Watched black panther the other day and really enjoyed it.  That relates to something else as far numerology is concerned but only a classic grand guignol sense (chortle). 

So, I’m roughly 200 pages into it.  And I don’t like series or trilogies or quadrilogies or any of that carp but if the remaining 350 pages of Red Sparrow maintain this level of quality I will seek out the second book in the series.  I will have little to no choice.  My hand will be forced. 

Time and again I tell myself I’ll stay clean tonight.  Those words always break and mend my heart. 

I am toxic human garbage though I sometimes long to be more.  Just gonna finish.  Just keep truckin’.  That’s what you gotta do.  Just keep truckin’.  The mockish fellowship was scattered long ago (nothing to do with magicians at the dawn though they are somewhere on my mind) though sometimes he wonders where it all went. Thinking back is depressing.  Must look for the initial sign of rejection, the thing which predated everything else.  Watched Out of the Past last night.  Great film.  Love noir.  Chinatown earlier in the week.  Great film.  Love noir.  Sometimes my peanut sized brain can’t understand certain things.  Diana la Cazadora.  Love her.  need to start reusing the old schematic again.  Bright and sheer.  New muse arising. This is dangerous.  One in between but pretending like only two there.  not a good thing.  Casual.  We were all horizontal in that moment.  Casual loveliness not yet seen.  Terrible.  Extra mouth coming out and will jab a hole right into my egghead.  Somehow it all works.  Stay at home.  Electric blue.  Don’t worry about the goals.  Falling into a vat of toxic waste.  I need to know how it will all turn out before I venture forth.  At least he isn’t bothering anyone else anymore.  So far so good.  Things are neatly falling under control in a dry toast kind of way.  All across the country.  I’m so old and used up.  Probably just need to listen to more division.  Atmosphere is so beautiful.  Everything.  Hooky again.  Need to copy and replicate and sling the strap way down low.  25% and nothing to show.  I’m a loser and failure.  Saw a bukowski book the other day.  Need to read em.  And Yeats poems.  I’ve ignored too many things for far too long in my ignorance.  Hate myself.  Wish everyone would just leave me alone.  Hate to talk to people and hate when people talk to me.  pantyhose have you. 

That oral wallpaper is coming back in style.  Struggling now with text like brick. Need to catch up with black lighting. Those text like walker’s best but I could never approach.  Hope that book arrives soon.  That Scary Monsters vinyl is gorgeous.  What an album.  Beautiful and necessary music. 

Probably put on highway again today.  I am lost and deranged.  Tilt is everything.  Now sweaty summer approaches and I’ll put it on every day and smoke imaginary cigarettes.  We’re awful.  Awful.  Maybe later I’ll sit on a flagpole.  Just for laughs. 

Pushing everyone away is the wise thing.  He explained her lovely positive presence.  Gratitude.  Gracious loser in a bifurcated one-sided beauty contest.  Voice lovely.  Ending things, punctuating the sentence with a caress on the shoulder.  This was good.  And appropriate.  And then very soon it would be and will be and was ironic.  A thousand meaningless moments repeating somewhere in the ether and remembered by no one.  that is his existence.  I’ll probably watch Hitchcock or Woo or someone’s work today.  But not before or after I’ve had a good shave and a steaming oatmeal bath.  With extra brown sugar and blueberries.  The spice in my soap operatic triad of giddy madness.

I'll just be prayin' at the bus stop if you need me

Everybody’s looking for the ladder.  Thank you God.  That is exactly what I needed. 

Rather strange of me to ignore the tin machine for so long.  Always a pleasure to discover you ignored for long.  Its way past time I utilize tyromancy as a means of running my life.  Good golly (ms molly) but this will likely sound great as I drive around town like an idiot with a big goofy toothy grin on my ugly face!  I’m in love (just like Chuck E.!).  It’s rather swingin’ so far, isn’t it?  I’m not sure why I waited so long.  Perhaps because it seemed so apocryphal but that’s often a major selling point for me.  Regardless, it’s a vital and necessary thing now.  Perhaps it was always meant to be this way.  Reeves Gabrels guitar work is always welcome.  He’s on a couple of my favorite albums; music I cherish so much, that feels so close to my heart.  I am discovering something so familiar and loved as something new again.  What a gift.  Interesting that Pearl Jam was listening to Under the God during the making of Ten.  Interesting the views of this style predating the eventual grunge movement.  I so adore critical re-analysis. 

It hit me at some point very recently that waking up is the worst part of my day.  My thoughts were once poetic but they quickly faded away into that mysterious ether.  I fight against the morning every time but it is of course a fight I can never win.  Prior to this I am always someone else and often wonderful things are happening.  Sometimes terrible things are happening too but you know what?  That’s okay because even the terrible moments take place so very near the costume ball.  And then I inevitably lose the fight and I am me again and that revelation never loses its awful sting. 

I have been reacquainting myself with the Doors recently, forever one of my favorite bands.  Its difficult for me to choose a favorite amongst their core canonical six albums.  Their debut has a certain walk away perfection to it which is undeniable.  Yet, I somewhat prefer the more insular and grim musings on the follow-up Strange Days (I also much prefer that second album’s denouement – When the Music’s Over – to The End off the first album).  Also, love Horse Latitudes.  Waiting For the Sun is easily my least favorite of the six.  There are great moments for sure – especially Not to Touch the Earth which I’m sure will be playing at some point during my self-made apocalypse but in general the album sounds uninspired and it seems arrogantly clear to me that they’d run out of gas for a bit after two consecutive stellar albums.  The Soft Parade is certainly the least popular in terms of critical assessment yet it’s always held a special place in my heart precisely for those experimental touches of strings and brass for which it’s so often derided.  The experimentations are definitely not 100% successful but I’m always pleased to see artists stretching and pushing in different directions.  There are some turgid numbers for sure but a couple stone cold classics like Touch Me and the title track.  Of course, Wishful Sinful is a strong contender for my favorite Doors song ever.  Morrison Hotel and L.A. Woman feel of the same piece to me in much the same way as their first two albums though with the important distinction of more blues (or blooze) and less of the dark carnival psychedelia.  Still, the music and songwriting is often stunning on these last canonical works – right out the gate with the tavern screams of Roadhouse Blues through the beauty of Blue Sunday and hidden gems like Hyacinth House and culminating with the mystery laden jazz inspired epilogue Riders on the Storm.  Love this band.  I listen to their live albums often as well.  It’s been a pleasure reconnecting with them. 

There truly is nothing relevant in anything I say or do.  I am extremely unimportant.  I am simply a worthless individual.  Danza.  That thematic playlist will soon be created.  Best to be kept short.  Then a very special room will be created inside his mind.  And endless dances.  Perhaps a meeting at the art gallery.  And a cup of tea.  It may shatter and it may come together again. 

Of course, earlier on I was making reference to The Ladder by Prince and the Revolution from his divisive Purple Rain follow-up Around the World in a Day.  I’ve lived with these albums for so long.  They are an indelible part of my spirit and I constantly find renewal within.  Paisley Park is in my heart.  Very often when I’m all alone I play my tambourine.  But The Ladder…I was just feeling that recently.  It is such lovely gospel and feels so necessary.  And so perfect that it should come right after Pop Life.  I must listen to that album now.  And then Parade (while still trying to learn the half of the album on the bass) and then the Black album, and Lovesexy and Batman and Diamonds and Pearls and Love Symbol (swoon, this and Outside and Tilt and anything by Thalia and summer is here) and then Come and Gold Experience and Emancipation!  And I’ll probably slip Mayte’s album in there too!  And Martika!  And the New Power Generation!  This is a land of sin-aplenty.  I would love to believe we are looking for the ladder.  There has been some dissension recently on a related subject, controversy on how things will all turn out.  But there must be value in the search, yes?  That’s what this speaks to me, the difficult but necessary and ultimately soul rejuvenating journey.  It is a recurrent theme through this most lovely work. 

You know, I really like the Wu Tang Clan an awful lot.  The core albums and the many many solo releases!  Love the sprawling mythology of it all. 

I have fish recipe I absolutely adore.  Mayhaps I’ll make fish tomorrow.  I always prepare it with the head on of course.  I love the meat in the head.  I love eating the eyeballs.  Fish and wine.  And perhaps a black and white movie.  Reading before.  Music while cooking underway.  Probably something in jazz.  Whiskey or wine while cooking.  Maybe Nigella too in the background for multilayered inspiration.  Or maybe something Lynch. 

Gusi, a gaggle of geese. 

mill4(1046)

Recent failure albeit slightly more reserved.  I could not deny the lovely floral pattern.  It is for certain I have not eliminated enough.  My recurrent fantasy of drowning.  I’m 40 pages into Red Sparrow.  Very enjoyable so far.  I continue very slow work in learning Low.  I love my fingers wrapped around wood.  Destruction being done to my body.  Today’s silence no doubt is a prelude to an awful though much deserved storm.  I don’t know what that speech was he made.  Psychogenic fugue.  I’ll be racing down the highway when it happens.  Funny how….  I was initially skeptical about the RZA turning over production duties to Allah Mathematics on the Clan’s newest release but I must say it is quite a corker of an album.  It made me feel while I drove around listening to it today.  In between there were moments where I was hating myself more than ever and quite strongly wanting to die.  This is not a rare occurrence for me.  it is quite common.  Increasingly so.  Just as the cutups were an increasingly utilized technique on earthling.  I love it though not as much as the predecessor.  Hard to love anything as much as the predecessor though there are a few out there.  copper hair.  At other moments there was more discreet music surrounding my ugly face, offering comfort in times of chaos.  More swans in the future I suspect.  He should know the craw (rhymes with).  Is it time for the harmonica (number 7).  That newness is being teased.  Woke up again with hands completely numb.  Gotta go slow. Will the torn out diary pages be dealt with this coming weekend?  Who knows.  Eager to see how this all compares to the inland empire (I rarely get out there these days).  As for this most recent edition.  That’s why we are all here, yes?  I realize now…no, my realization is oh so false.  I started and then stopped though excellent.  The description of white.  That’s where we are at.  Careful not to ruin things.  is it time for that whiskey now?  It was the lace.  Black on white.  Day almost over.  “oh no”.  maybe I’ll just go home and ponder about life.  What is staying my hand these days.  The love of the swamp god.  That’s everything for the time being.  Though it shares space.  Live and in living color.  Need to investigate if that fixation is unhealthy as the greatest fixations so often are.  Recurrent pig fanaticism.  Can’t complain.  Way past halitosis.  Overall, this was the least satisfying yet i am more inside than ever.  Testament to portrayal and orange crush (eliminate the color).  More fish soon.  And I don’t like shit.  That’s why my room is electric blue and that’s where I will live.  Of if only.  The allusions to the almighty luck number were clear but their overtness was a minor distraction.  Things turned out in unexpected ways. The overall conceit I like.  Should have been stretched out when like stretch Armstrong.  I had one when I was a child and when it broke I cried and cried.  I was always a little cry baby.  And now I’m just a sad pathetic man.  Tease and flirt.  Old themes recurring.  If I could go out there by the ocean and make a place for myself to….  The water wars were real, people.  Orange farms.  I need to go somewhere and look at the plat maps.  Is there anything more fascinating than plat maps?  I’ll have to ask a rude attendant to borrow a ruler as my vision has been on a steep decline lately.  Started the next one with the number but I’ll have to restart.  Nice to see the added pounds though (though this doesn’t mean what you think).  And now I see how it’s all connected with the whale being the common element wherein I was first acquainted with those pounds (you broke your little ship.  I will make them pay!) and now it recurs with this renewal.  Never saw the hair so long.  Good look.  That other thing I was mentioning I never loved as much as others.  Futile (was it).  Surely this will be a good addition, necessary to have more friendly familiar elements.  Stifling under its own strict set of parameters but there is ample room for growth.  Now I know it won’t be nearly as much as I thought.  I was wrong as always.  A non entity.  The brie!  The soft cow’s milk cheese!  First became acquainted with the involvement of ivory and a boom box.  It was later experienced in a hopeless place.  Should have known then and there how things were going to turn out.  Just biding my time until the eventual downfall.  Or has all this been a push toward something else.  Don’t wish to flatter myself.  I am scum.  I am too notorious.  It was like when the third face was added and the diamond exchange between two aquatic animals near the beginning with a recorded tape as a third party.  I am everywhere. I am a nobody who is everywhere.  And the flower boy.  So much I need to know stronger.  Just put forth the effort you fucking ugly useless bastard.  They have not yet figure out what to do aside from the tongue in the box.  Lab monkey sprung out the other day while lingerie hung on the walls.  Rediscovery is so good.  Those last two are as good as anything.  They hold up mightily.  Soon a very specific season will commence.  I need to be smarter this time around.  Why am I hungry again?  Do I hear twenty-one?  how amusing.  Do you see the struggle analytical content in today’s environment?  I specifically mean today.  I don’t lament it.  I am eager for a return.  I tried but the whiskey and self loathing was taking it’s toll.  Getting back to those pages I mentioned earlier I’m not sure the descriptions match the eventual somewhat irritating choice.  But why should it matter if I am irritated?  As previously established, I am a nobody.  I ate a cheeseburger today.  I am asking you to carry me again.  Who will be my comforting….  Fragments as ever.  More meaningless information.  I am only uncertain.  Maybe I need to become panoramic. 

mill3(funny how...all the walker, need sundog and it's happening outside, and love vert and shape and reconnecting with ...)

The human race was dying out, tee hee.  I don’t know that I resemble the man with all the coins in his carpet.  Yuck, why even bring blood into things.  Morrison hotel right now.  Loves.  I’ve been spending much time 1.Outside.  truly one of my all time favorites.  I learned so much from the hearts filthy lesson.  Of course I related it to Tilt.  How could I not?  So important discovery in the heat.  I was listening to Fijacion Oral Volumen 1 a lot recently.  What a great album.  What a gorgeous mature work.  and of course, Ghostface’s first album. That’s a real corker, as the kids like to say.  I had something of a breakdown the other day whilst in the company of spiritual providers.  It was more the booze than the cocaine I suspect.  But what do I know?  Eight and a half.  I’d never make it without you.  You’re there in the slaughter.  That was filling my thoughts in the night before and then early on this morning.  So sublime and richly appropriate.  I think I’ll dance a little jig to try and make sense of things while I’m stumbling through the hallways.  Yes, she looked so much better painted up like a whore.  Took a picture of the shoulders and eyebrows.  I’m coughing while I drink this whiskey.  No one believes me when I say it was all my fault but it was.  And now i see I’m about to face some great and terrible cosmic punishment.  Couldn’t have happened to a nicer guy.  Hahaha, I always laugh at how stupid I am. How utterly worthless.  I was recently thinking, very recently, how I wish there was a gun in my possession that I might blow my brains out and make an awful lot of people awfully happy.  I think I know what record I’d put on in the moment of truth.  I think of my blood, bits of skull and brain matter splattered against the wall and my lifeless corpse sprawled on the carpet of my posh flat.  I’d likely shit myself after the deed was done.  Such indignity!  This is a strange life.  No, it is so crushingly like any other.  She was right about what she what to him.  They did not want this.  He is a vile, ugly repugnant thing.  And now everyone knows.  He is disgusting and awful and there will be a parade once it’s finally all said and done.  I need to seek out those actresses though. Good thing I have a list. And I’m checking it 47 times.  Eight and a half.  Fantasies about the harem. It all made sense.  But I’ve handled things so poorly. I need to omit myself as a favor…. Many apology letters to send out.  But the notice will make everything okay.  It’s all just information.  No real meaning attached.. haha, is there any major role in my life in which I have not failed?  I don’t think so.  I’m talking about dead letters now with a certain degree of implausibility.  We started up talking about a job and that seemed as appropriate as anything.  I am such a terrible person and I imagine my end would make so many happy.  It’s not bad to be a people pleaser.  I was reading about the sailor and lula earlier.  Or was i?  the more I learn the less I want to know.  Tell the truth!  They prick me! there was a certain humanity shining through the overall oppressive tone this time around.  It was a grim humanity but present nonetheless.  There was also an aquatic sing song voice and a glorious smile and I am terrible once again.  Do not let yourself think anything that should not be.  You know exactly what I’m talking about. What in the world plays in the background on repeat.  Thank You for always being there for me.  I don’t deserve anything.  I hate myself so much. Time to swallow a bottle of sleeping pills?  Time to blow my fucking brains out and then everyone can have a parade (I love a parade and I love the album Parade by Prince and the Revolution!  Also, I was referencing the album 1.Outside by David Bowie earlier, an all time fave of mine).  Now, the similarities are all becoming ever more apparent  an homage to something that will eventually be returning the favor.  All first inside a painting.  And then the world was tinted green and we figured it out via the library of congress and bathroom tissue.  I do so love it.  The parallels are uncanny like train tracks and a personalized lighter.  But then this is to be the framework for something so beloved in the then far off future.  And I see you at an art gallery and even if I could see you everyday I would always remember this moment.  And I see you at the costume ball and I’ve no right to feel fucked up anymore because I’ve ruined everything for everyone and I’m a fucking ugly worthless loser and he wants to die so badly.  Red when around her now.  Everything is my fault because I’m a terrible person.  The surreality at the beginning had a great killer clown.  The duct tape and the feces were good and haunting.  So much oppression.  I love really love the equal partner and am waiting for an expansion of depth.  This was overall the least satisfying yet I find myself so connected.  I’ve forgotten most of what I want to say.  On the other side of things I’ve been using many disguises lately and seeing owls all over the place and very soon I suspect I will know the  right path and something will be ripped out by fire.  Everything and everyone is more important than me.  I failed everyone with whom I’ve ever had contact.  I am nothing.  Quite less in fact. I’ve only ever brought pain.  I’ll just through it in yon face again.  Land ho.  Flies in the house right now.  There is no way around my terrible failure.  I’m awful.  I want to be gone. 

mill2[need to start scrapbook of poems while on my way to UFC 224 (I will always be in your corner MD!)]

Weariness in my fingers that is apropos of nothing.  I discussed at some length when I had to temporarily leave to break dollar that I may donate for my own eventual terrified suffering.  The light shines very bright in the woods but no one around saw it.  Was that case taken as far as humanly possible?  I suppose I will never know the truth.  We’re not allowed to know.  It’s all over.  Waiting for the sun is by far my least favorite.  It would difficult but doable to know the remaining order.  It’s clear all these chemicals are having a catastrophic effect on my body but it’s too late to stop now.  My hands are deadening like Batty right now, pity I don’t have something sharp to drive through them.  And I can barely keep my eyes open.  How many alarms went off this morning?  Have I been sleeping well lately?  Hard to say.  I adore outside.  The hearts filthy lesson on the way over here.  I do so love that song.  Can you carry me? The name is richly appropriate.  I think I’ve lost my way.  Everything is just made up of fragments of information.  I don’t think I can find a direct meaning in anything anymore.  I keep reading the catechism in parking lots.  I need to get back at the margin again and scheme.  The tumbler wasn’t so heavy last night.  It got the job done though. Wine and roses always classic.  A little something before to help take the edge off.  And I was off the return trip. Second though I wonder if the chronology will list it as first as so often confusingly happens.  Winged creatures and things reminiscent of wires.  No, wires were reminiscent of this perhaps.  This is entirely unrelated but I do so love that song the wire by haim.  I need to discern the secrets behind the double twins.  The fallen natures of man are clear.  Or are they?  Again, things go outside.  Disparate information.  It’s happening now.  Not tomorrow.  I’m just catching up to things.  Blood sponge inside of us.  I guess in the end it all ties back to when we were nightclubbing.  Things opened up with a wizard but that’s not right it wasn’t an opening at all and it wasn’t a wizard it was an ear which was in reference and reverence to something blue and it put me in such a good mood.  All at once it occurred to me I need to buy a good pair of night vision goggles and start sporting them when making my nocturnal rounds.  Pity it doesn’t grow in straight lines though as it will never look quite right regardless of make or model.  I realize I need the earthling in the city (though I’m not sure if I’m still talking about a maritime city).  I think I’m probably doing to switch around a few letters in that name.  no, I meant change a couple letters.  Or ledders if you prefer.  Will you carry me?  Potent fishhooks at that particular juncture.  Or course, during that specific era I was actually reading quite a bit about year, perhaps finding myself honing my crane style of fighting and/or laughing while I realized I was immune to her charms.  That was hidden in the bottom drawer as I recall.  Though not actually hidden but always a pleasure to rediscover though he scarcely knew why it happened.  The support system in place again.  No, back first to so much blood splashing on the face.  That’s not quite right.  Forcefully removed from his own body and then splashing on his face.  Blood from the head too.  Not quite certain of reason or reasons by the end but compelling enough.  And then I remembered the rapture.  I was 19 (I said this with a southern accent) and the links are back again all across the fair state.  That controversial question may come into play as early as tomorrow.  The companionship delved deeper and I was concerned for safety.  Quite likable.  Lovely puppy again but please don’t remind me and I’m already confusing my dates.  Thanks for putting the coffee on.  And that one particular passage I’d no idea about whatsoever despite the prevalence of its context.  His angels.  Shall we ponder a bit about the nature and origin of evil.  So comforting, that is very lovely.  I wonder which of my contemporary may currently be making their own stockpiles as they become ever more concerned of the impending doomsday.  You can see it too, can’t you?  Are all the clocks in the place incorrect?  I once sold a moonfaced watch or maybe I didn’t.  a watch was sold though and I was physically very nearby.  I should have been a watchmaker.  Immolation and industrial microwaves.  That aspect is a descending step from the previous lake and cheesecake and panties.  The world does have so much cloaked though.  This is a fear I am…. I couldn’t finish that other text, the one I was alluding to earlier which I trade for a couple silver coins.  The pages were yellowed and brittle.  This was a generational occurrence and I believe several in the inner circle were also aware.  Tears were streaming down my face as I begged not to read any further.  Were you hiding in the closet or the attic?  We have mutual dreams.  No, they are nightmares. Not quite right either, fragments of memory like those fragments of information but all terrifying.  Don’t take the baby away.  He will most definitely be going on that path of many strings.  No one cares.  Perhaps there is a return visit in just a little while.  Was it the first to be post an event before the actual event?  I understand entirely.  Of course he’d forgotten about the shelter and the priest and the eventual bus.  If only we’d been turned into two-dimensional people.  I feel that would have been the most satisfying conclusion of all.  A small plot of land was present when I last left things and I know it will be waiting for me as I return.  A precursor to another obsession.   Need to wrap my hands around the sundog.

mill1[good(maybe very good)begin)

Someone wants to see me drown in the blood dimmed tide.  It is a compelling to imagine that it was AIDS being referenced.  It is also quite compelling to imagine that maybe we all actually died quite a while ago.  We’re all sitting around waiting for our punishment.  I was listening to  Stone Temple Pilots new album today and yesterday.  I think I like it.  Overall it probably sits somewhere right in the middle of their catalogue but that is only the initial blush.  Some folks had their eyes and mouth sewed shut.  You’re giving an effort now but that will all change once the day is up.  True appreciation died inside of you and you a very long time ago.  Their new signer really sings from the gutt.  He does a good approximation though.  There’s at least one new classic on there.  I was listening to The Doors at some other point.  And also Raekwon.  Shaolin’s finest.  The industrialization at the beginning already brought me in.  who isn’t in the mood for a good peep show.  Much racier than I thought possible.  At some point it was raining blood while my face remained comfortable in the shadows though the tear which ran down my cheek was unmistakable.  Slow thighs.  I was begging for forgiveness the other day.  It is a familiar pose for yours falsely.  That image of the poor screaming bastard on fire and thrashing through the old pacific northwest words was something.  I was taken back a bit to the time of the wolf and hearing crying and screaming and seeing distant marching with torches and feeling terrified and know that sleep was something very foreign to me now.  All by my own doing.  I love seeing the rains come down.  And of course piggy imagery is ever a favorite of mine.  But imagery this is not.  Another part of me was tickled.  I lost my shit.  There was another amalgamation.  Sign o’ the times really. The sins are on every street corner.  Outside was probably a bit too far away though all the selections made a lot of sense so I cannot feel anything for the exclusion.  I made this!  I do believe he has a problem with homosexuals though. This was not quite de palma but it may have been demme.  A mix of this and that.  On fire again and I found heads in bags and I enjoyed seeing the blood pour down the walls.  Sexy women were dancing for me.  Always a pleasure.  Those screams sounded oddly reminiscent of a man undergoing a painful medical procedure while secured in place with a large body size membrane (I can see the thoughts in the temples).  Is everything intentional or just eventual?  Mere anarchy would be something of a terrifying gift but even I don’t know what I’m talking about.  I’m as ignorant of Yeats as I am about…gosh, anything really.  Though I must extend the very gracious thanks for the introduction.  Is that hour of the beast come around at last?  I may have lept over a bridge at one point though if I never did I certainly should have.  Just starting with Berlin again.  I’m just starting with orange and profile again.  What in the world?  That is the one which will be first.  Not sure about the punctuation.  Maybe afterward I’ll consider a new career.  It would be difficult to advance without mentioning the visual steerers of the ship.  Character is what reigns supreme but not in the way one thinks.  Lines straight down the side and below blue eyes.  These lines are so very deep.  Man’s best friend, you may recall.  I don’t see any pumpkins around.  So brave to crawling  through those tunnels.  There are plenty of heads though.  Perhaps I was on PCP and broke every bone in my hand but won’t feel it til morning.  That Kevlar sure is something else though.  The reemergence later on with the fleshy totem pole on the beach makes on the more sense now.  Mann, it all goes back before it goes forward.  You’ve seen these tapes before.  There is green everywhere when I wear goggles and blue washes over everything in the middle of the night looking out on the ocean.  Began there then traversed through cosmetic scalps and the force feeding of spaghetti with plenty of detours along the same paths you created with similar albeit more jovial bedfellows.  sturdiness if the key here in the face of such persistent nihilism and I know he is more than up to the task.  The puppy and recipient were darling, as was the support back home.  Photographs intriguing.  I am haunted.  I pray this never hits close to home.  What does the group.  Nothing is dated truly anymore these days, especially with such strings and again – who doesn’t love a peep show?  Let’s rock.  I didn’t say that.  Mayhaps though its all just a part of this older school adventure I am currently undertaking.  Maybe a more contemporary and  extended stop in new Orleans is in order as well.  But I was oh so pleased initially. The path was much more daring than I anticipated.  The flightplan this pilot took gets very strong marks from yours falsely.  The corresponding number is currently in the 60’s but I’d like to think my passion is equal to the task.  What am I discovering these days?  One all important – none more important – aspect of things is certainly improving.  You deliver.  Right? Right?!  Multiple times now and he feels sure it will become one of his most cherished.  So much time has been wasted already.  Time to plan an escape route?  Please don’t depend on me.  chess and lovely and dirty suit are taking another in that other location.  Truly, all these horrific acts are happening only a few miles apart.  They do have a common crossdressing component.  I don’t think I would want to enter that dark house.  I would definitely put pantyhose over my head though.  But only if they were used! 

ice cream (thanks Chef)

All at once it him, the terrifying culmination of his life and all the love and lust he desired and all the misery he spread.  There would be a neon lit swimming pool and a costume ball and curtains everywhere.  There would be rumor and conjecture and so much mythologizing.  I will see you and yet you will not be you and perhaps the next time you see me I will not be me.  no, I won’t know who you are.  But I’ll have seen you just the other night during a moment of avant-garde performance and somewhere within all this is a moment of sexual frustration and a lack completion and through it all I may fail to realize until the very end that despite all the phantoms which keep appearing the true horror is my own useless and compromised-until-spiritual-death-and-decay existence.  And the man across the table from me is exactly the same state – perhaps slower or perhaps accelerated – but he has no idea and exists in a state of pure denial which will one day come to an utterly devastating halt.  And i know I will see the Rhapsody in Blue at some point but it will not be her or at one point it will be her and moment to moment she’ll change to something else where she will look like her but something will just be slightly horrifyingly off and I won’t have the slightest idea what happened but I’ll be crawling around on the floor trying to gather up the shattered remains of my identity and the broken irreparable pieces of diseased personality.  There will be a kind smile coming from her and it will provide brief relief but all too soon I will realize its only illusory.  And at some point I will need to write for help again and again because I can’t do anything on my own.  There will be several others forming the grand illusion of my nightmare end and I have a very good idea as their names but not necessarily their identities.  I will be staring across the cafeteria table of someone highly intelligent and warm and in the next moment this will change and I will not know where I am or to whom I am speaking but I will know in some distant way that an encroaching horror and all-encompassing malevolent evil has replaced the blissful memories which were all fake to begin with.  And I will only have myself to blame.  Because I am nothing at all. 

I realized very recently that I am a vampire.  The fear in the eyes is something I provoke because I am awful.  I am constantly falling back into sin.  It is my fallback position.  Please, I need desperately to crawl out.  I cannot do anything by myself.  We commit sins because we are awful.  This that I cannot resist, the Rhapsody in Blue.  This effects and destroys everything and it is entirely my fault. I know I can break the cycle.  I have known this for so very long.  How appropriate that his European sexuality should clue me in as to my true nature.  Vampirism and the hour of the wolf.  Banishment to an island would be a logical decision to make for someone like me.  my face will never meld with another.  And as the gates to the next world open I imagine the sound I hear will be two women singing in unison.  I am that undesirable and despicable element introduced in the beginning, middle or final act.  The looks in the eyes say everything yet I can continue to deny.   I should be burned away with the morning sun.  his excitement has turned to financial gain and this is unbearably repulsive.  This feeling is clear now.  The questions about family about work.  why is this taking place?  And then always such a curt finality.  He cannot put the blame on anyone.  Please let this be the last time.  he could hang a paper chain on his wall.  Perhaps then it would be the last time.  please I need help please help me please let this be the last time please help me I cannot do this alone I cannot do anything alone I am an awful sinning terrible horrible ugly thing please help me and please let this be the last time and that there is peace found once again.  To die in sweetest sin.  The words are not quite right but I start to wonder if I misheard things on purpose.  My heart guides the way and always leads me to a dulcet destruction.  Of course, I think as my head goes light, how utterly proper.

 

The relative physicality of things cannot be denied or understated and this is perhaps the most dominant yet most sad (sad in the pathetic sense) factor of all.  If only an errant hot air balloon could touch ground if only for a moment to shake him out of this stupor.  He begs again for help.  There are always signs yet he consistently….

But the way was shown.  Two separate ways on the same path.  John showed him the way long ago and it proved successful once and can do so again.  The key is water.  I need only divide the water up and examine things from every possible…. And then the palace can have another glorious room and this may be the loveliest of all.  Water and words and everything can be…not exactly expelled.  The energy can be change into something else and released onto the universe in a much less destructive fashion.  Most important of all is what may be salvaged and that the Rhapsody in Blue may finally have peace. 

Just recall that was left behind before.  It was done once and a thousand times more and can be done again.  Finally. This is the solution. You never saw until now how it was only chance which brought this about.  But glorious intentionality can fix things. please help me not to ignore these precious signs.  Please let this finally be it and that I may learn. 

gathering up oats for the request that makes the skin

At long last I finally discovered the heretofore unknown connections between The Lawnmower Man and Peter Gabriel’s Kiss That Frog.  How stupid of me not to notice it before.  How utterly idiotic.  Give me steam!  The bubble wrap reminds me a bit about floss and ice cream.  \

Is it time to start a collection of Billy Zane movies?!  When would be the proper time?  I love Janelle Monae’s new material and I look forward to the album.  I feel the guiding spirit of Prince in there.  I watched Annihilation the other night and loved it.  I purchased the book immediately afterward and will read it at some point.  I was rereading At the Mountains of Madness the other day while eating nachos and drinking beer and generally hating myself.  I should have a drove a stunt vehicle afterward.  It’s a great story though.  Speaking of Lovecraft I couldn’t help but notice how much Annihilation borrows from The Colour Out of Space.  I’ll be curious to see if this borrowing stems from the book or changes in the story specifically made for the movie.  I really like U2’s album All That You Can’t Leave Behind.  It feels good to listen to that album. 

Naturally a chunk of my last night was taken up with UFC 222.  I wouldn’t have missed it for the world.  Not for the whole world!  Thankfully there were no yellow coats around to spoil my fun (unlike the carton of spoiled milk I drank last night which resulted in a lovely sleepless night).  Naturally I only wanted the preliminary fights which were broadcasted free of charge of FS1 and did not watch any of the main card.  My only priority – arguably the only priority  I have anymore in any aspect of my miserable and utterly worthless life – was to watch McKenzie Dern’s debut. 

And with such great ease he was able to slip back into the beautiful and haunting world of sin.  Mayhaps he should have opted to read the soft machine again?  Would now be a good time to conjure up a flock of woodpeckers?  The Rhapsody in Blue is back again because you extended the invitation.  Right there in the middle of things was the center of The Berlin Trilogy.

The vanishing creamed corn was unduly haunting.  At one point I almost was involved in a violent automobile accident while I vomited it up creamed corn though of course it was actually the desired substance of some extradimensional beings. 

I see back on February 18, 2015 I wrote “Used pantyhose cloud my thoughts and how could they not?”  I see that very little has changed in the intervening 3 years.  I also asked “Could the Love Symbol Album be my favorite Prince album?” and I find that I am still asking that question 3 years later.  Everything has changed and yet nothing has changed.  Isn’t that deep?!

Congrats to Guillermo.  And Roger! 

What does first note say?  Starts too “light”?  ah, starts too cute, not into kids.  I liked the dog flying into the air, said that this happened on the same day as the black Chihuahuas on the freeway.  That was very sad.  I feel and felt sad.  I feel bad all the time because I’m a miserable failure.  I haughtily laugh at others who are clearly miserable failures but convince themselves they are not.  Play doh domination flashback gave me serious Heavenly Creatures vibes (that is a lesbian movie or isit?).  I need to eat more pie post haste.  Meat being dead is a good hook.  I love PI’s and like how he caught on.  Until he revived Meat I forgot the 1 minute rule, glad that was cleanly showed again.  It is a good twist and hook that they attracted to fresh honey straight from the comb.  Flashback: Honey for bums is an amazing idea.  Poverty is so complex and yet so simple. Very charming beads, good chemistry (essential for romantic beads).  “which one is this?” (heaven or hell?).  Parrot during the attempted murder and Gold monkeys are cool.  Too twee?  Frogs and birds, don’ t want to see the kid very often please.  Maybe if I tattoo my body up and then sit around naked eating raw fish I can finally turn things around and escape this godforsaken precipice (need more light in my room).   separate beds, exploring the intimacy while being unable to touch.  Interesting to explore the intimacy that space can provide.  The yearning, the longing.  Maybe I’ll buy a bunch of cheeses later on.   Cruise me (blonde) spying: there’s a surprising lack of physical contact. Pie knitting a la church trav when he attended church.  Though of course back in the day we all wanted to be butlers and argued about pre crisis power levels.  I like the cynicism inherent to cod fish and their reaction over not wanting Meat to come with them.  Put a pancho on my beer and I’ll call it too cute but I’ll drink it anyway.    Angry morgue is good support for the essay I wrote on blue pages.  I was merely adequate.  Good gore on the hit and run.  Don’t like when the whole building is an artificial digital construct.  Fish to olives out in space and once I didn’t pay for the rocks but I was staring at her ass.  Very harsh!  She is still happy they don’t touch.  interesting transition when I suddenly find myself on the other side of the universe.  It’s ever expanding.  Lets not even broach the subject of dinosaurs (the sworn enemy of man, they will pay for their destructive tendencies but before that please get me a purple one). Meat speaks multiple languages, while my car sits idly by and I still need to eat more pie.  Olives are singing and the suction and canines make it more than somewhat more bearable.   That Indian reservation thing did not understand the elegance used in the one about sheeps.  The captain had me with that star cut out and the bangs.  Holding hands in cars is nice but I prefer eating steamed rice.  I ate steamed rice this morning.