return continues to fascinate and beg questioning

I’m going to turn my passion for eating peanut butter into a youtube channel wherein I give online tutorials on how to eat peanut without every showing my face. 

I’m all for not.  I can not just sit down and so what me like.  I’m losing touch with all facets of reality.  Female Ecuadorian pop groups.  They’ll find constant searches for those when all is said and done.  They’ll also recover my numerous attempts to travel back exactly 8 hours through time.  I am the chosen one.  dirty towels.  I’m wonderfully precocious.  I’m about to build a wall with my eyes.  Ten was inspiriation.  Digital.  Can’t get anything done.  I just start crying.  And then I start to dry heave.  I think were I alone I would have done it already.  Just listen to logic’s sake. 

Tree of life again.  Gets me everytime.  Then I watched part 26.  I’m stuck.  I can’t actually finish anything.  I think that big cry helped to clear my sinuses though.  Never rely on a scholastic dictionary.  There’s no one in charge.  My copy of reds finally arrived.  Now I just need to free up time in my miserable life to watch it.  Then I need to eat a bowl of piping hot soup. 

I was too stupid to realize there is a strong Vertigo reference in Lost Highway.  How dumb of me.  how idiotic.  Crazy clown time.  gosh, I ‘m such an obsessive fanboy.  Need to drink more café.  The best scene in all of dexter is the treadmill scene.  But without scott walker’s music I would be utterly lost.  Now I just want to watch vertigo again.  Then I went to paint the walls of my room a brilliant hue of red!  Bring in the vcr!  Vcr’s are coming back in style.  In a sense we will all be vcr’s in the future.  Then we’ll all wrap ourselves up with yellow paper.  I need puppies. 

Need to find an old hardcover copy of the codebreakers and read it every day before eating pancakes.  Only minimall developers want my property.  My cape is flapping in the space breeze.  Need to listen to joy division again soon.  Then I can pretend I can play like peter hook.

It was just the other day that the insects were talking to me again. Years from now I won’t be able to relate that to anything.  Montiel just moments ago as I was launched into a live wire.  I’ll have to use the garrote on the train.  Watched fire walk with me I think 4 times in a row.  Love that one.  it would be very high in my ranking.  Probably at number 2 or 3.   

Becoming is my anthem for the month.  I forgot the the.  Big words like and and the always trip me up.  We discussed her arms.  Replace annie with something else. Is that a Bumpit in your hair or are you just happy to see me?  canon.  Cannon.  I can’t get food for the kids. 

I can’t get anything done!  I’m too uptight.  Maybe I’ll just experiment with alien crystals and then watch vertigo and eat meat.  You need meant?!  Go to the market!  I think very soon I will be commencing my experiments in mind control.  Esp.  real new wave shit!  All green and vegetables and strange magicians in the morning light.  We will harness the powers of several different types of magics to accomplish our goals. 

Isolation.  And transmission.  I’m playing transmission all the time.  while grinding my teeth at night its running through the rich corridors of my mind.  I come from a planet of creamed corn. 

Rogue one is my favorite of the newer slate of star wars movies.  We’ll see how solo stacks up.  Love time sale’s artwork, I said, apropos of nothing. That’s just  me though: Ricardo Smithee, everyone’s favorite punching bag!  Good thing my shoes are made of Teflon.  Today was utterly wasted.  It’s hard to accept how horribly off the rails I’ve been.  I need to fix things up.  I feel really weird lately.  Like I actually losing my mind.  But maybe it’s all the delicious pasta I’ve been consuming.  I am a horrible person.  My hands are made or pears. 

Boy but I really do love Ghostface’s debut album.  Most of his albums really.  Fishscale is incredible highly concentrated street noir.  I keep switching fire walk with me with lost highway.  I go back and forth and slap myself.  I just don’t know!  My life is a shaggy dog story.  I find it impossible to express anything anymore.  Time and again I tell myself.  Is it future or past right now?  Whose dream are we living inside of? 

We’re all illusionists.  How do we live with ourselves knowing full well how awful we are?  Anthropomorphic rabbits keep trying to speak with me whilst I bathe in someone else’s nightmare.  I wasn’t the one who stole the corn.  The lodge at some point felt very akin to the place wherein Whitley found himself.  But it wasn’t really Whitley.  Laughing at first then I was ready to wake up.  More things about dreams and Chinese boxes.  I exist before and after at the same time and find it to be equally unsatisfying.  This is so fragmentary.  Can’t get anything out anymore.  No  one wants to leave me alone anymore. 

I think that newly discovered croc can help me out.  New muses being created as old ones move on. More rooms being filled.  Everything is spinning now.  Good at resistance earlier.  For time.  don’t fuck it all up now, Ricardo!  Its all meaningless these days.  Brazil last night.  Nice.  Some of nicholson’s best and most subtle work is in reds.  She’s gone away.  That little picture is going to look great right to the right of me.  sundog will help me see familiar and strange things in exciting new ways.  Lucy can’t dance but she and I are on a similar wavelength these days.  It’s not so bad.  The mornings are the worst. 

Yamila, I swear.