mill8(will go back and freeze on that many t-)

Cruel lies echoing in silence is certainly quite relatable.  It did feel comfortable slipping back in.  Like slipping into a warm bath.  Or slipping in the shower and conking my noggin!  This was especially most welcome given the better half focus.  I was anticipating this, wasn’t I?  Or was I?  The more I learn the less I want to know.  Sensitivity is required for certain areas.  It occurs to me now that the perpetrator always felt big in the court room though admittedly that was from an entirely different universe there was lightly some very light overlap.  Catrina’s outfit on that last episode of Lucha Underground was everything.  On a sorta unrelated subject I recently finished Stephen King’s newest book The Outsider.  I finished it one morning with a nice summer breeze coming through my window and while…I don’t know, doing something.  I burned through it!  but number eight is what I need to discuss with this, as my most loyal readers can recall.  I am my way through….  That sentence remains unfinished.  it’s not lack of groove or the other one but it was stark change and bad on me for not finishing the two of three.  Still have huge crush on Megan.  It was only hours but I can’t recall. K is the key initial to something later on in case you (I) didn’t know.  But yes, the sensitivity angel.  I would actually say this dealt with unsavoriness in a very realistic manner.  By that I mean true to life.  Was it odd not having the general lead locked in place for roughly forty four minutes?  Maybe.  But no, actually, not really.  I need to fill sixty now but you wouldn’t know it if you were keeping count at this point.  The brief glimpses were haunting and true.  As were all the miserable blockades we put up to protect our miserable selves. It was a breath of fresh liquid.  As I said, I was waiting for it.  But again, it’s companion – that is, the one that comes within those last few letters of the alphabet – has a much more approachable…hmmm…I don’t know if approachable is the right word.  Jump into the celluloid now.  There was sun drenched grittiness in the shape of square.  Perhaps balance is the key.  Less oppression!  Ah, but now I see a truth about something I haven’t talked about yet but will after a while.  Many of these are reworks.  I love the term “work” as in “do you think it was a work?”  but that’s not quite what I’m talking.  Has excitement been deflated?  I think this is just the status of things right now.  I did not have a chance to make quinoa the other day as I so desperately wanted.  It occurs to me that I don’t really have too much to say.  Consistent darkness with this number eight.  Maybe mind altered affected things.  That’s certainly possible.  Maybe we’re all out of ideas. So we met back on June 9, just a little over 47 weeks ago and I’m still having some natty backissues; remember when I found that copy of Ren & Stimpy #1?! What about Amazing Spider-Man #300?! I’ve been walking around okay and I haven’t noticed any breathing problems or anything like that but I’m still having some breeding difficulties and odd transactions.  Just need to see about a sat day.  conditions are acceptable.  The district attorneys do have a very easy job.  Cutting through red tape is so realistic.   Never really been tempted to go back to Dean again.  Brass is always a pleasure though and is compulsively watchable the other key?  He is still very with it.  good companions.  Waiting for this but ultimately quite basic.  One fifty percent chunk was grooving really and truly.  I can feel that heat around the corner.  Is this another sign of the continuing decline of western civ?!  I wasn’t the one who really said that but it was well said.  I’m glad I discovered these new New England voices.  It relates to something peppered throughout all this and has inspired me to stain my fingers more than normal.  When did my crotch turn to gold?  That does not apply to me, of course.  There was a monkey on the railing.  It is true that there was a fair bit of blending and then inside the hold, I’m not sure about being inside the hole.  Worms inside my head.  Red worms.  He likes the red worms coming out of head.  I am made of sawdust, aren’t I? in the classic sense.  I’m looking for the man who has caused all my pain.  I pulled disc 3 out of it’s slender plastic sleeve and will watch episode 9 at some point in the very near future.  I recently began reading J.G. Ballard’s book The Crystal World.  I consider myself a Ballard fan but an uneducated one.  I need a good stiff drink now.  Ultimately I would say it’s minor King and that it falls apart a bit the end after largely being very gripping.  But overall I highly enjoyed the reading experience and I’m always so happy to have King’s literary voice again and I’m very thankful he’s still writing.  The Addiction is one of my favorite movies of all time and I am deeply excited that it finally received a deluxe blu ray treatment!  Set to arrive the day of Fry!. I hope Catrina wears that outfit again on today’s episode.  Oh, and I do so enjoy these other types of gifts!  Here I am getting into Lucinda Williams and (slowly working my way through her discography and there is a surprise (for me) collaborative album between her and saxman Charles Lloyd out this Friday.  I think I want to reread Cujo again; I’m a big cereal fan but I don’t eat it nearly enough.  Ultimately, of course my absolute favorite part was that super close up shot of Catherine’s pantyhose clad feet.  Was that retroactively done just for me?!  It was glorious!  It was everything!  It was much everything as I am nothing!  Please rest those gorgeous pantyhose clad soles on my face after a hard day and night of do-gooding!  You have a lovely smile! 

use em all i do, distress at the end but glad to have, can't hear door (lovely ice discussing digitized shortages of commerce)

I awoke with a desperate desire for a tall glass of lemonade.  Then I realized I was going to consume salmon breakfast.  Then he realized he was developing an inappropriate fixation on one who slays.  Up there in the frigid where oil is in great abundance.  I paid some bills today.  Is there anything more satisfying than paying bills?  My sounds of summer are shaping up nicely just as my obsessions begin to take hold and make concentrated and highly coordinated moves to destroy me.  I’m one step closer!  Not to knowing though.  I watched the movie Sex, Lies and Videotape last night.  I’ve seen it many times before.  You know, I really like that movie.  I’m something of a Soderbergh junkie though so my opinion might not be the most objective.  Or perhaps it’s actually the most objective of all.  I need to purchase Unsane.  I need to drink more coffee.  I watched part of a Lovecraft documentary yesterday but the heat was getting to me.  I hope to continue today in between feedings.  I hope feedings go well.  Whoa whoa, let’s not get too personal.  I need that third iteration.  Won’t bow.  But what for the accompaniment?  There’s so much to consider.  I can already tell this is something of an ashcan.  A number zero.  The heart of filler.  Didn’t realize that was ol’ Dave on guitar in Burning Bright (a current personal fave).  Now I can hear it though.  Or can i?  the more I learn the less I want to know.  I sometimes think I’m losing my fear but in the dark I know better.  Always nice seeing you. the professionalism takes hold.  Niceties always to a point.  Yamila, I swear.  Painting with electronics, great swaths of digital color.  This is what is necessary at the moment.  I was wrapped up in tape (the type of cassettes) when realizing that everything bleeds.  I think he can scrape together five dollars American for that one with the t-shirt.  Not really a t-shirt though, something else.  Man, really listening to and loving How to Destroy Angels again.  Really takes me back to the good ol’ days.  Did ever such a thing exist?!  The mems associations though.  Connections that maybe were tenuous for years and now simply do not exist.  The doll of gold lost the cover.  What the botch (not quite really, just a code for future references) revealed was rather sweet so in the end maybe victory is the final determination.  Ah, the thing I said before talking about gold dolls…I didn’t even realize…the shortness structurally speaking, the brevity, the in and out.  Maybe that is the reason for the renewed feels slash interest slash enjoyment.  That initial iteration was of course ep format and now that concluding spate of three eps which is of course more than a little peripherally related.  but lined with fur now.  Enjoyment as I still believe.  But back on track and speaking of more than peripheral relations…gold doll now without cover but sweeter…with the more than peripheral relation in that case recover and reenter?  I honestly have no idear.  Feels somewhat odd now to revisit the beloved corner technique.  Maybe with time though.  Time, patience, the right berries. 

Haha, of course in can be truly said that in the classical canonical works of my misspent youth a box of rice was the driver of my well-oiled automobile.  I think an athletic man accused of a sex crime would understand.  She’s trapped between two realms but still able to catch fish so all is essentially well. 

Ice was very much in style again.  Strong shoulder line of pastel peaches.  Silence is such a compelling word.  And now the three are complete and reanalysis can begin.  But yes, the shoulder line with just a dash of strangulation.  And a bit of double barreled soft suffocation.  Then plant nice big juicy ones.  All made of ice.  Perhaps this will prove to be more cost effective for the immediate future.  Never realized the less than equation was quite so explosive in the second iteration; a little mixup of the verbiage maybe.  Speak on that because the time is very soon now that there is someone so faithful who regulates the excessive syntax of the inner corridors of sticky brain matter.  Yours to be precise though I suppose that all depends on if one is seeking definition with the mouth or with the eyes.  He begged for strangulation and then he begged for mercy and was met with a beautiful and icy smile.  And thousands of words that could never truly be deciphered.  He scattered like hecticness to get things done and in the end wondered if it was all for (get me) not.  Suppose it doesn’t really matter either way after there was the old substitute before and then the ice just one day afterward so he’s no real right to complain.  All bedecked so specifically.  Seventy denier is quite the thing and must provide much fake usage in the perhaps and perhaps not immediate future.  I watched the movie Amistad back when I was a youngster.  I think I’m going to begin with something that I did not quite understand.  Knife in my head.  Things will end in very dramatic and ill-advised sex.  And soon maybe there will be something held that has a light purple border and vermin.  Be curious about any allusions to Fellini.  Maybe it’s time I try a little meditation and then I can unleash my fishing reel.  I should have had that first cup of coffee.  There were some strange autopsies goig on the arctic.  Who knows how effective the cleanse has been?  The answer will be clear soon enough.  Love orange hue in the digital representation.  Thinking back now on words of encouragement spoken right into the ear from a plastic electronic source.  And then subsequent judiciously placed mockery.  And the cloth synchronization.  One line running up and down.  and everyone becomes the same.  Everything looking great is there too.  I really do love low.  I can now understand and justify all the fervor going on in (no, regarding) the background.  It will be perfect while I drive through rich summer hail.  Similar to yesterday and so deep inside the obsession (of fire) but now representing the most classically applied two diverging shades for boys and girls along with all the colors combined on top.  And likely approaching the wonder of the application of seventy which I alluded to earlier.  My mouth is full  of soot now as the clock winds down.  ¾ (of?).  combine with the clock and earlier WORLD fervor. 

I can’t tell if I’m dreaming anymore either.

turquoise nikes and you'd have to really ask (ducks and crude pics that promoted smoking)

He looked at photographs to which he had no right, no claim, no place or presence.  He could still feel….  I was nothing then and still the same now.  Passionate kisses.  Of course that is only the soundtrack, not the experience.  But let’s not diminish that.  The Italian who’s not Italian.  I can only laugh now because nothing ever made sense.  And I can’t bring myself to forget.  Saving a dance that would never be.  And then a near missed encounter; meeting over someone who is no longer here.  Something is happening and he feels so sad now.  There are no real memories present so why is this still haunting?  Nothing makes sense anymore.  That may already have been said.  there is a beauty in the blue.  Everything grew from this and now others are suffering and it is his fault. That hesitation, the thanksgiving potluck.  Nothing.  Should not have this.  An unexpected embrace.  I was awful.  I’m still awful.  Formative.  All up on the eight point five.  And now Nyro makes me cry with Lu. Looks like someone’s extra sensitive tonight. What’s that in your eye?  The smartest man on the cinder would certainly know.  As the perfume bottle spins and spins.  I don’t think the teacup will ever come together again.  This is probs his favorite time of the week but it’s only the diehards who truly know it.  Too cool to be forgotten.  the spelling may not be quite right but the sentiment is true.  Back on the chain gang.  And the connection was stunning in the moment from Laura to Lucinda, the loneliness from girl to women,  the thirteenth confessions and the essence in everything.  Please don’t settle for anything.  I think those words have almost entirely disappeared and are only known by one now.  But that’s okay.  Head goes light.  How utterly proper.  But passed along just the tiniest bit.  The green science fiction eyes.  Die for you.  This one little bit, maybe that will always be remembered.  We are all so fragile.  Everything is so fleeting and he’s painting great and epic portraits, all awash in words and all in effort to set free everything contained within.  Towers of words and no one listens.  He’s breaking apart now.  It began with ink.  Spring dress green and yellow like in the fields.  Back again on those connections, the reverse.  i try to forget who I am but fail every time.  the rain dogs and the rose colored essence; these are the sounds of a Saturday night, of feeling lonely when in the heart of everything, with everyone right next to you.  What are we stealing?  What is she thinking about in this moment?  The envy is real but the identity is unknown.  No, not entirely.  Was anything real?  Are things coming to an end?  And he shall remain failure.  You were writing water and it worked so well.  You wished to be a drop of rain running through her hair.  Are all one and the same?  This sadness is lovely.  I don’t know what comes easy.  All traces back to the first dance.  And every modern moment now frozen in black and white photographs. 

I am currently in the process of reassessing all of Spielberg’s post Schindler’s List output.  Additionally, now that the third and presumably final part is out I must also entirely reassess the 3 EP’s (or was that last one an LP?  I think so) Nine Inch Nails has released in the past three years.  I enjoy both of these processes.  I am also highly enjoying Stephen King’s new novel The Outsider!  It’s a real corker of a tale!  And I squealed with girlish glee when he made very strong reference to an old luchadoras movie!  I adore luchadoras.  Experimentation is so lovely.  That is in reference to something earlier.  Those three will form part of the vital sounds to my burning summer.  Let me smell you.  that’s how you can get me to stop screaming.  In the boiling stench of the morning with the torn and yellow pages between my fingertips I questioned for the first time the persuasiveness and validity of the words.  Did the ink have less power than before?  Only the night will know for sure.  The night and what it chooses to give up.  The validity does not really matter either way.  And the persuasiveness…?  Hmmm, as a work I think the audaciousness of it will still burn bright for a long time. 

So in a great sense almost everything has been reinstated.  There only remains one more crucial component.  I think I shall begin with an aardvark or perhaps a bunny.  Or maybe clay.  Clay is often reliable.  And afterward move on to something human and something but not leaving those others behind.  By the end of the season then things should be firing accordingly.  And soon, apropos of nothing, the electronics will arrive.  Oh yes, they’ll push his buttons.  There are so many buttons in this world.  Why doesn’t anybody push mine?!  I scream this while accidentally slamming my fingers in a door and then I scream something unintelligible due to the pain.  But that thing from before.  I can remember all the good times and how it meant so much to me.  it began with a haircut, yes?  And from a haircut to a tell all book.  how is it that I feel fine?  I need to check on something in roughly 90 minutes though by now it will all have been unceremoniously checked on.  We are in shackles.  I see these passages now as most important.  Not from this world.  Call backs to something else.  Blackstar’s saxophone the guiding hand.  And an imitated croon I must reflect on.  But as I said, experimentation is the key.  Maybe even the keyword.  There’s sawdust inside my big belly. Where did I put my pocket watch again?  Very close on the mouth in the tactile fairy tale. 

I am a field on fire is a beautiful declaration.  Perhaps I regret that my fingers were not soiled by the physical component.  I certainly could not object to mutations.  I am different from last night to today.  How did I slip into this?  That garageyness is really working, eh?  fire is certainly the theme here.  and the color of the saints with the cranberry looks lovely.  i am obsessed.  I love being irrelevant! 

i am so much of nothing (Little Star again brings meaning and The Rhapsody and...the end of alpha....)

So The Rhapsody in Blue returned to me.  and I still have no idea what I’m doing.  My heart is racing.  So similar to one of the absolute essentials along with the one about bare feet.  You can’t keep up.  But yes, returned to me and joyous, bountiful.  There was genuine kindness but I am never truly present to receive it.  I’m not sure what any of it means anymore except that I’m awful.  Awful. Maybe that’s why I wake up with my hands numb every morning?

Do you understand the lilting beauty of missing?  And along with that, is such a subtle betrayal.  I would love to spend more time down in the…just me and my….  I think I went through a portal somewhere down the road and ended up in a fantasy.  They were running away together and sharing everything.  But at some point the real version of you began to seep in.  someone was right in another context regarding what happens when you chip away the old version.  I am irrelevant, just like they said.  there was such kindness as we discussed the debilitating ailment.  Lucinda is singing so softly right now and the night makes me want to cry.  I don’t feel loneliness.  Everything is opposite inside his heart.  And he unintentionally spreads bitterness due to how much of himself he’s already given away.  Desires kill all of us. 

My hands are shaking and I realize I’ve quite unintentionally poisoned myself.  No, that’s not true.  Everything was timed with such exactitude.  Did not even feel much hesitation this time, not with so many paths blocked up and then you appeared from nothing and we discussed what was eating away at all our insides.  He imagined the clandestine taking place in front of everyone.  Room full of strangers and we’re tired of wearing masks.  One starts to cry and laugh and there is a thing line that is broken.  This face shifts between so many and we are miles and miles away and then we’re just over the bridge and the process of true separation and delineation and love ownership is just starting to take place. He has never been beautiful.  There is no fortunate one here.  Quite lovingly mistaken. 

There will never be a moment which lasts longer than what you were already afforded.  You must hold your hands up and be thankful for that which has already come and gone.  It was surely good for the soul but you cannot be greedy and ask for more.  Don’t cheapen things.  just feel envy for the moon and stars over the park in the night.  And all those fleeting and wonderful thoughts you will never know. 

You’re feeling a certain shade as you revise the pleading and grateful hands in the middle of the night, aren’t you?  You watch for the halo again.  In that way you are able to keep things alive.  But the time to be fleeting is here and there must not be any disappointments.  How long was he waiting for that language to arrive. A soft strum now that only you here and a bittersweet taste in your mouth that is only imagined.  Your head goes fuzzy but you will never forget.  It shall all be catalogued and each moment given its own accompaniment.  What was the meaning behind all of this?  What was the missed message? 

Do you see the connections now?  Out there on the concrete waiting you destroyed everything you built up.  And prior to this was a greeting so sweet and genuine that you had no choice but to ruin it.  And what is so bountiful now; I guess some things never change.  These are not broad strokes at all though we create our own myths and symbols.  Why did she use that word? 

You see the coming torment.  You have predicted it all.  And he believes there is enough to go around.  You will win in the end.  And my accompaniment will be the most utterly useless thing of all.  And then it returns back to sweltering days where things were broken for the first time and he wanted nothing more than to be thrown away.  It comes back around on itself.  Of course, I think as my head goes light, how utterly proper. 

Maybe we have some lessons up our sleeves.  This cannot go any further.  But in another world seen through the portal down that road it will go the absolute farthest possible.  What will be reached at the end?  I hope it is real. 

On a lighter (or is it?) and entirely unrelated (or is it?) note it took some time today, did it not.  Though in the end the rewards were great though his own unreliable physicality failed him.  The most…but also the most…presented with such delights.  Truly was more than welcome.  And with such abundance recently, making up for all that lost time.  though now I see why I was all made up.  Now I see how completely meaningless I am.  I kind of don’t feel like myself but even as I write that I know it’s a complete lie.  I don’t matter though.  Not a revelation.  He was constantly renewing and going back and forth and wondering about seeing through the haze.  The hate built up inside of him.  There is no proper end to that one.  nothing in sight.  The past three, clinched, squeezing tight.  They have and will always work.  is he running out of time?

Returned to him, will always be there.  he is awful.  The image shifting.  What happened?  Those words were not as disguised as before.  Please, don’t mess it up.  She could never….  This very much seems to be true.  Nothing much besides remains.  Walking at night anymore?  Are they both awake at this very moment?  Does anything matter?  Black replacing the red is something I cannot argue with.  A set of all would be ideal, yes?  Confidence is key.  The additions are most welcome. 

I see I am now comfortably and lovingly making my way through Lucinda Williams’ discography.  This sort of thing is always such a great pleasure.  we must be grateful.  Need to start rounding that out.  And the new Kamasi Washington.  And of course, Trent.  Thank you.  Thank You. 

3m3c2 (not completely accurate numerology)

What an unbelievably dumb motherfucker I am! I wrote all that crap the other day and forgot to mention just how much I fucking love Gloria Trevi’s new song and video!  Can’t wait to see what comes next!  What a worthless phrase – can’t wait to see….  It’s not like that isn’t over done.  That’s why I’ll never be a great or successful writer, because I’m a shitty one bereft of ideas!  But yeah, that little tempo reeancmetn of the act of sexual intercourse…that’s a touch I really like.  Vampire queen.  I need this in my miserable and utterly worthless life right now.  Hopefully I can see you again.  This time I won’t hesitate to…oh come on, the past me knows what I’m talking about.  I won’t hesitate this time.  i would definitely pick The High End of Low as Marilyn Manson’s weakest (and it’s predecessor Eat Me, Drink Me as second weakest) but there are still a few gems therein.  I love that album Earthling.  I listen to it all the time (when I’m not eating blueberries).  I drove around last evening listening to Car Wheels on a Gravel Road album and things momentarily felt okay.  Maybe even better than okay.  So much to do.  Is this actually the beginning of something?  I don’t know anything.  So much pain.  Whenever mad season reoccurs I always think of Diana and her preferences in the record store.  Must dig out the old rucka and enjoy and rejoice. 

I don’t think I’m capable of hurting you.  That wasn’t me who said that.  Do not, cannot accept compensation.  Perhaps a small drink of pure alcohol.  Oh, what that not be the height of loveliness?  There is a strong need and desire to capture every single moment, everything that has happened.  There was a walk around the perimeter.  It replete with exercise equipment and sleeping vagabonds.  There is such a great fear of these moments disappearing into the universe.  Moments so very very few know about.  They can hardly be said to have happened at all.  That walk around the perimeter was in fact only a repetition of a previous walk for which one of the active participants could not be in attendance.  That previous walk was one through the dark and culminating with staring up at the stars.  These are the signatures.  The braille and swimming with mermaids.  The previous written words which now hold even more true.  The noose and it’s circular nature.  And all the explosions everywhere (kaboom).  Doubled.  That was the right thing to do, can’t really trust anyone these days.  It was the unrequited taste of raspberries again. Safety inside the storm.  Traveling along that same road and he hears echoes from all the places you’ve been.  And that is what he wants.  Inviting a friend.  someone more feminine.  She was thinking of you too.  The signals were all out.  There was earlier.  Waiting on the benches.  And the color that would not fade.  Permission asked.  Seeing the gangsters farther away and relating the tales of all those dreams which could never come to fruition.  And odd things.  but you  knew, you both knew.  Before the one who passes judgement and now it all starts.  And these moments are lovely.  What happened?  You are nervous.  There is a summation taking place.  In the beginning there was the furtiveness and the glances backward, unsure.  And then again and nothing was recognizable and there was white purity down below.  And there was a walk of thanks and the fruit and the chocolate and the walk of relief afterward followed by running and freeform.  Delays followed and things seemed simple then.  The break in time was valued and necessary and then so soon after different types of breaks things were renewed and strong and an embrace destroyed everything and created something new and wonderful.  And then it repeated and there was no second break which only proved the validity.  Inherent.  He wanted to run with….   Couldn’t leave without….  Can I pay you back with…?  Please, don’t forget anything.  This will live on for as long as we….  I don’t think I could ever do anything to hurt you.  I didn’t say that.  Wanted to say nice to meet you but we already know each other.  Sweet laughter.  During the telephone lines too.  What’s a telephone bill?  Then further on…the signals up, everyone on the same wavelength.  This will all be okay in time.  slavery inside domesticity.  You are okay for now.  Missing you is the ultimate betrayal.  there are so many things which will never be complete.  There are so many things which will never be explored.  There are so many emotions which will never be felt.  Hate to crib.  All these pieces that we’ll never be able to put together.  Somewhere out there is a version of them dancing, perhaps at a costume ball.  There are tears, as always.  Is that so wrong?  Please do not think of me anymore.  What were you thinking in that moment?  What don’t you care about?  Is that the right way to phrase it?  Is it wrong to venture?  You ask again what you were thinking about in that moment?  What happened?  I’ll come back for you.  What philosophies are we going with.  What is that nature of what is taking place right now right then?  Times to consider that old adage of living as though it were your last moment.  But immediately after she wondered if that could ever be proper.  Was that final assessment about the character wrong?  Most likely.  Maybe good to do something nice every once in a while.  That walk, if only things could have been slowed down.  every single moment now exists for always.  Right there on the corner, everything exchanged and intimate and respectful.  Did my soul good to know….   Now you understand. No distance between them.  And all was so sweet and lovely and he wished it would never end.  You paint the sky in beautiful colors. 

I am deeply excited for the release of the Criterion edition of The Tree of Life.  man i really do love that Gloria Trevi song!  Hope there's a new album right over the horizon!  

no desire to be a but i will celebrate the blank day with the below and fiery dark and the most but also the most

I would probably love to hang meself.  We must all feign happiness.  Oh my, how sad everything is.  I’m racing to find meaning.  Its just barely out of reach.  Inside a noose.  Some thoughts are far too comforting.  I’m listening to Death’s cover of God of Thunder.  Man, I love that rendition.  Soon I hope to be consuming a spicy chicken sandwich.  Oh sweet obligation.  Things are coming down to gibberish now.  When do these lies stop crashing the party.  Of course I am now putting things off temporarily at least until I see that Orwellian prediction come to light.  The cold war paranoia and the virus.  Someone to shame us, that is what we want.  I loved the official photos released of the next Wonder Woman movie and the set vids have me quite excited.  Maybe now I’ll just go drink a glass of milk.  I was crying again this morning and I think it set things off on a good start, very appropriate.  Blue smoke will always be the best version of itself when glass is applied.  I could it all so clearly running through the trenches.  Oh, it’s magical.  I want to believe and I don’t even have a poster of a UFO near my work desk.  But moved to tears again.  Why can’t I be different?  Alan, I can only be me.  how utterly devastating. 

I’m on the sun again, it’s my own damn fault.  There was grass and judiciousness.  There was talk about the upturned mouth.  Something about beauty and then I was blinded.  Something wrong?  Benches and copious amounts of paperwork and we were all up and down (I suppose it is true then that that’s how energy stays alive).  “Is everything looking great?”  this question will melt down into batter and cream and berries (time, patience, the right berries).  It was ingenious question really and he wonders what was truly meant, if anything.  It was obvious in a sense.  Ice water.  Glaciers of ice.  Is everything looking great?  What is the degree of intentionality?  And now you’re searching for electricity and conveyor belts again and massive mechanical arms.  It’s only natural.  There was deep denim and perhaps something maroon.  Don’t like to read anymore?  And then everything together, everyone is what he meant to say.  And all through the denier and all ganging up.  You’re fun.  Not realizing that you are also diseased.  Caffeine to the rescue in the strictest sense of relief.  Interesting that that group should now be using the means to catch aquatic life.  Still, it is the evil which is beckoning.  And was it all a plant?  All so convenient.  And in that moment he realized he is in fact quite a terrible person and has been for many years now.  I suppose it doesn’t really matter though.  Can’t think straight.  But off the little star has returned in force and so in many ways all is right with the world.  I would like to have a chance to do some reading later on and I think I will.  From a foreign land.  Quite interesting.  How end up here?  Why here and now?  So many different places at once.  Nothing quite makes any sense.  Maroon this time whilst searching for financial validity.  Far too many liberties out in the sprinkling.  It happens outside, yes, that was quite correct.  Brain is ceasing to function.  Do you understand?  Meeting on the lower lever level and then up to the upper level and then back down to the lower lower level and up to the lower level again and back at the beginning (spinning).  Tears here and there and nerves not quite made of steel and tempered by crushing debt and anger and something else.  Just gotta keep my miserable head clear for a couple more hours.  Maybe worms.  My appetite has returned.  Feeling so nervous and then down the hall with the angry ones and I was disrespectfully chewing gum and inching closer intentionally and inquiring about nerves.  Mouth thick.  Somewhere there were raspberries and unknowingly invading the light blue.  Making the blue head hurt.  Both responsible of course.  We’re all adults here.  Aren’t we? Of course in the end it was a predictable set of liquid circumstances which put the final and necessary kibosh on things.  to say nothing of the evil facesitting Brazilian BBW domme.  There is no love here or anywhere.  We are all unsafe.  Lets laugh at that missing detour and all the people searching for it.  Lets eat breaded pork while listening to melodic social commentary.  That’s probably another five ninety nine that I’ll never get back.  Woe is me.  oh well, maybe it’s time I just consume garbage and/or tickle the ivories.

 The appeal of sin was there and then it vanished again.  I was searching through the index for ages and what I found was frightening, emotionally distant and glacial.  There were other, separate worlds which were immediately opened in that moment, traversing similar wavelengths.  I need only raise the appropriate scratch.  Soon enough wax would be haunting me.  what an egregious error.  Make sure to sell the admissions.  All of my fears came true.  Watched Hour of the Wolf again the other night.  I’ll probably rewatch Persona soon enough.  Maybe tonight!  Or Tuesday!  Rum bum bum bum, rubba dubba dum. 

And now with someone moved on to the great beyond may be the time for question mark. On a pretty unrelated note I do love that new muzak from Rez.  But it is only first blush.  It’s easy to get excited on first blush we’ll have to see how it progresses.  All this as I await the chance to make a financial calculation.  I started ol’ Steve King’s new book last night and I highly enjoyed the first 67 or so pages I read.  We’ll see if that holds true for what remains….  I was reading another Dick book before that.  I just can’t get enough dick.  And prior to that was Ballard.  I love his work.  I’ll probably eat a peach soon.  Though I continue to deny The Rhapsody in Blue.  Peanut butter was the code trigger word.  Orange and black and grim insane obsession took hold.  She’s a peach.  I purchase fruit juices on a regular basis.  Of course I’m always a fan of the cybernetics. 

If Patrick Stewart does indeed return to play Picard then…I will cry tears of joy.  Because after Picard, all one can do is die!  Please let it be true!  

Ah, the enthusiasm associated with the poster.  Those were the great halcyon days of yore! 

I have a mouth full of mercury (and cruise it up and down the road, lovely to be happy)

That’s me, ol’ Ricardo, just pittin’ out while drinking cheap vodka like it were Sunny D!  I need to break open my encyclopedia of imaginary diseases and more closely examine the photographs!  Perhaps a new sexuality is it hand!  It makes sense in a way.  There’s too much information out there and I can hardly make sense of any of it.  WAH I want my mommy!

I was without coffee for days but now I feel complete again.  Now I am free!  I think I’m going to watch the movie Hereditary in a moment.  I am very excited for it!  Or am I? The more I learn the less I want to know.  Damn, I really needed to do something but I forgot what it was.  My pet genius!  Of course, love it!  I have now seen the movie Hereditary!  Such is the magic of the written word and this glorious digital age in which we live!  What a fantastic decade!  What a fantastic death abyss!  I found it to a highly distressing and unsettling film and give it many many props, kudos and a strong meaty recommend!  I’ll need to see it again but man…there was just such…such…

Don’t get too personal.  He deeply hopes you are okay.  Let this be true.  Tears before bedtime. Fitting and lovely.

Must be careful about all those ancient texts.  You are on the verge of finishing here.  It’s been a confusing and odd yet worthwhile journey.  You were quite the jerk last night.  It’s all habitual.  Sweaty days are upon us.  I quite enjoyed the trailer for the new Halloween movie today.  Twas great to hear that old score back again and the photography looks lush (shake baby shake).  I will likely be there opening day but not opening night.  Or maybe I will be there opening night.  Regardless, I’ll certainly watch the original before heading the multiplex and maybe Rob Zombie’s movies and maybe some of the odd sequels in between all that.  Maybe I’ll even eat a burrito deluxe supreme and look at some porn before heading to the theatre! 

You know I really like that song Scream Like a Baby from Scary Monsters (and Super Creeps). I love that part when he can barely get out the lyric and then just gives up.  Great thematic resonance there. 

And tonight.  There was more caffeine.  So happy to have that back in my life again.  This was purple though, purple caffeine.  Compliments were given and the response was quite effusive.  You understand, yes?!  The angling.  It’s all about angling.  I get it, we’re all part of a game, just cogs, fucking puppets on strings.  Strings.  Lots of references throughout to something I don’t really care for (but something harmless, around the same as the female the machine).  One piece though.  One piece.  And dark up.  Listening to Elvis Costello right now.  Great stuff. 

There is nothing left right now but I suspect there will be more soon.  I almost ate a Payday candy bar today but then I thought better of it.  I don’t know need those empty calories.  I’d be a fool to consume them just because.  I’m still a fool though so I guess I can never really win.  I don’t deserve to win. 

The dream of the poet.  I’m waiting on these musical quasars (which came from the quartz either hidden in my jacket or shoved up my hirsute ass) to send me those all important messages from headquarters.  Is there a terrible war coming?  That dead seagull on the beach and the naked ladies dancing.  Roque’s harmonics drove me mad.  I can feel it right now in the pit of my gut.  That haunted poll.  That haunted post.  Whatever the fuck ever.  I’m near the end now.  I wonder what zany antics that seven-year-old schizophrenic is going to commit!  Ah, we don’t consider the deeply disturbed children.  Too messy.  Too greasy (like the cafeteria food). 

Obsession with hosiery

Voluptuous Ana Bertha: “I’ve been wearing these RHT pantyhose all day while working at the local greasy spoon.  Are you sure you want me to forcibly rub the sweaty soles of my feet all over your face while berating you in Spanish and English?”

Me: “Oh God, yes please! Please!  I’ll do anything!”

Brief that was but mayhaps only the beginning and  a new of seeing things thanks to various atrocities and folks feeling sexually aroused by brutal footage and mutilations.  Surgeries have you.  Haunted by those bugs and the auditory realization of the missing top. 

I’ll probably watch the 90’s classic Spawn with my imaginary kids tonight!  They deserve a real treat!  And I deserve a big slab of undercooked read meat!  Thank goodness everything seems okay for now.  I need to eat a lot of dandelions and greens and file down my lips.  I am not orange.  Stopping by in the middle of a rain storm.  And of course, in then occurs to me how great inside a ring would be the one with the purple that was alluded to in an earlier paragraph, there need not even be much change in the overall presentation.    

The cleanse.  This is a much needed notion.  A lucky 21 cleanse.  But how effective will it be?  Only time will tell.  Time, patience, the right berries.  That’s why she was so happy that day.  how lovely.  The coastal town beckons.  37 hours.  Or something like that.  If only I were a younger man.  Perhaps that lucky 21 can be defined by recordings of water.  There is water everywhere.  Holding up four when you really mean three is everything in the world.  The mastery of incoherence and strange otherworldly languages.  And now the missives from another nameless individual.  Sweet and strawberry and chocolate and feigned innocence and documentation and leaning.  No, no leaning.  Left alone on the stairs but with a blissful hard promise to return.  This energy flows out the sun and is seen by eyes which can focus on two things at the same time.  as lovely as a photograph now.  Discretion and spies. Non appearances in the photograph replete with sibling love.  Maybe it’s time to let them all go.  For health reasons.  New messages and a countdown.  While the lucky 21 cleanse is on he is hoping for nothing but beautiful experiences. 

need to be better, what in future, non name existing between worlds and red devil again

Kaboom!  Kaboom!  So I am the villain of the piece.  Didn’t even know what the bleep was going on!  What the duck I was thinking?!  A preponderance of exposition, fuck fuck fuck.  Nothing is working the way it should anymore.  And still the scratches on the glass.  Still the scratches on the glass!  This geometry is not sacred at all.  I repeatedly indulge in the very worst of myself.  Time to pay the piper.  No, please no.  not hot enough yet.  Peppermint and serenity.  Eh but I will.  And the birth of a glorious new fetish.  The great love of your life is sin.  Trying to escape from our cages we are.  There are too many remnants and echoes of awful things around me that is because they are all reflections of me.  I need that first drink already.  And the dozen or so that follow.  First four ep’s just blister by and leave my brain purple with bruises. 

I’m very excited for this piano and microphone release.  That released track is just lovely and this seems like the type of thing I’ll happily put in in the middle of the night whether in my posh flat or in my car (where I feel safest of all).  I know you don’t believe in birthdays but I’m going to wish you one anyway!  Happy Birthday!  Love ya!  You have and continue to give me so much! 

No one is capable is following through on anything.  What a bunch of morons.  Man, I truly do despise people.  I did laundry the other day.  then I drank a glass of water. 

I had 9 pairs of used pantyhose wrapped around my head.  I passed out for a few seconds though luckily not any longer than that.  I must be more careful next time.  good ol’ labored breathing. 

Outside the house screaming.  Folks think they can just do whatever they want without consequences.  It doesn’t fucking work that way!  Oh the sweet suffering.  I’ve run out of the proper words.  Was watching Techy y su Grupo Aroma earlier.  I watched many videos of them but was not moved emotionally.  That is my fault though, not theirs.  I see it now, we’re going to put on art show and no one will attend but it will the greatest art show this miserable world has ever seen.  Then something will have to write about it!  And then mass circulation! Let’s cut a jazz record!  I love jazz! Without jazz my skin would melt off my body and I’d cook my raw flesh and make a delicious skillet meal with peppers, mushrooms and spuds.  Don’t break your leg when you walk down the stairs.  I was involved in a group text recently and I thought about drinking some tea but couldn’t quite pull the trigger.  I’m so dependent on caffeine it’s not even remotely humorous!   I crave plasma!  I hope I can wash my dinner down tonight with a tall frosty Nozz-A-La!  What is this off crap?  He dared to ask!  But I already told you if you managed to read in between the cracks!! First four. Group of super.  This is necessary and vital as I drive around and consider not so sacred geometry. 

It’s banana sandwiches!!! The old records, you can’t change em.  Legacy.  Cuban linx, brother.  Still rockin’ to My War of course though that should come as no surprise to those who were unlucky enough to have read the crap I posted yesterday.  Oh look, there’s my missing check book, right next to a pocket knife and yellowing paper.  Being down in the Treme is giving me much as the same feels as when I was hangin’ with the vigilantes and for that I am eminently grateful.  I need it!  Shame I’m all out of cheap whiskey.  Cheap vodka will do in a pinch though!  Where’s that bartender who always tacked on the bad Russian accent when delivering my drinks?!  I loved to stare at her full quaking buttocks whilst she prepares my liver destroying beverages.  Of course, later on I’m crying and seriously considering suicide but in the moment I convince myself I am happy.  But yeah, I need to get My War in wax!  I need to drop the needle on that.  That first side is furious, flippant and fucking flamboyant fury in the Rollins punk mold.  But side 2?!  Side two is slowly owning my worthless soul!  It drips sludge and slaps me across the face long dick style with hypnotic bass shit, noodly screechy guitar crud and awesomely grating self-hatred rants from ol’ Henry.  I just fucking adore that side but I really listen to the whole album on repeat throughout my day, only stopping on occasion to cry and drink cartons of heavy whipping cream. 

I remember years ago seeing The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo on Christmas Day and then going to a casino to gamble away the rest of my pocket money and eat a healthy dinner of undercooked bloody steak, undercooked runny eggs, and several whiskeys, dark beers, and a splash of the cheapest tequila they had.  You want sad motherfuckers?!  Look no further than those populating a casino on Christmas Day.  I was overall very disappointed in the film which looked gorgeous but had little else to offer aside from a decent atmosphere and a GORGEOUS score by Trent Reznor.  I guess that’s enough actually because it is still one of my favorite of his works and continues to receive regular rotations in my miserable worthless life!  Still,  I was disappointed in ol’ Davey Fincher.  But now, just 7 short years later we have what looks to be a nice soft reboot from sly director Fede Alvarez.  Do I think it will be good?  Eh.  Does the trailer get me excited?!  It looks slick enough to my hard earned but I’m more riding on the faith inspired by the director’s previous work!  And that’s enough for now!  I will say that air suctioned suit at the end looks incredibly sexy and I would love to be trapped in that with a pair of used pantyhose thrown over my head while a heavy set Mexican hooker (who was just wearing those pantyhose) stands nearby and berates me with insults in Spanish and English while also raiding my kitchen to make herself a delicious omelet with peppers, mushrooms, cheese and sausage and occasionally relating a dry anecdote about insurance, the DMV or local politics.