i'm awful, forgot other things

The other day I drove to a store that carries a variety of items including, books, movies, music, toys and other things.  I walked around for a while and hated myself.  I looked for things to buy and eventually find two items which brought me mental and emotional satisfaction.  I purchased a copy of David Bowie’s 2002 album Heathen on vinyl.  I have loved that album for years.  I went home and listened to that album while finishing reading Stephen King’s Firestarter.  Then I spent much of the afternoon reading volumes 1 and 2 of the trade paperback editions of Greg Rucka’s most recent run on Wonder Woman.  I have read Wonder Woman for most of my utterly worthless life and I would say Rucka is her very best writer.  It was an enjoyable afternoon. 

I am 150 pages out of the roughly 400 pages of Richard Bachman’s Roadwork and am finding it to be an extremely effective and intense character study.  I need to fill in more gaps. 

Am I very specific type of evil?  Round making.  Thoughts scattered.

I am extremely happy with the news that the trunks are returning.  For me, it is just not him without those trunks. 

I like everything I’m hearing about that origin film so far.  De Niro?  Speaking of character studies, You Were Never Really Here was excellent and really wets my corrupt appetite for this other film.  I watched Wrath of Khan last night again.   I didn’t think about killing myself at all during the duration of that film. 

I went back to the store and purchased a copy of David Bowie’s 2003 album Reality on vinyl.  Lime orange.  These albums sound great on wax.  Then I purchased volumes 3 and 4 of Greg Rucka’s newest run.  I feel so thankful for this renewal.  I think the trunks things is not a coincidence.  I’m very excited to see what Grand Morrison will do with the Green Lantern comic book as he has long been one of my favorite writers.  I have missed her so much.  More than I even realized.  All the old happy thoughts returned.  Maybe this can link up with water and good round numbers later on. 

It all runs together in the end.  All blending.  A spur of the moment change in times that results in a recent return from the gymnasium.  Pink ring.  From there back to the sunny drenched place with the master of several different languages and financial numbers. It’s The Rhapsody in Blue again.  It’s everything.  Using that f word but not the word everyone is thinking of.  I’m in a red room somewhere.  Then I’m in a bright place and my eyes are bleeding.  This is me.  running and running down concrete paths and there is green everywhere. 

Fleck, huh?  Lounge act and circus.  My throat was bloody.  With circus there was and is so much spinning.  That is how it would be done.  There’s a little bit of blood in my wine.   

I need to consult that old 202ist again and I need to follow the lead of water and nice round numbers.  I’ve done it before and I can do it  again.  Or can i?  has it ever been that strong or necessary before.  He took things away.  He would say sorry if he could.  The one in the middle.  Enjoying a cool drink on a hot day.  so cruel.  And then two more casting such a large net.  We’re awful.  I suppose it all comes down to blue in the end just as I’m maybe about to make things perfect here on this square screen.  I got lost somewhere and everyone could see right through me and see how ugly I am.  The disdain from who casts a net.  Far too strong to hide yet it all stems from that which makes the bread and butter.  So why do we chose this path?  Ive slaughtered.  Red skin and then I could not even get a word out; fumbling with small slips of paper.  I’m awful.  Awful.  Yes, it goes back and forth and the themes are clear as 30 men storm in and he that is I are the same as the ugliest of them and worse still in so many ways.  Want it fast.  The whites of so many eyes.  And then there was suffocation and electrocution and legs thrashing.  These thoughts are like knives slicing through brains.  And somewhere was that ancient huntress also casting a net and then the master of so many languages was also in the same form and then the cruel one in the middle of things before all culminating back with that who should be the subject of water and I am running and I haven’t even taken pictures.  I want to ask for forgiveness but I am so ugly and undeserving.  I am everything awful with a certain perspective.  That last word isn’t right but something to do with eyes.  Helical comes first, how could I forget?  And just now, he makes all work so much more difficult as her requests the dark cauldron pearl.  This was all so visual and in public and there was a question of comfort but of course I am awful.  We looked right at them.  The main pronouns all need changing.  So little time spent.  I took things away.  Please forgive me.  allow him to stop.  The renewal is the way.  Maybe that could make the difference.  There needs to be a desire to cease.  But all the black.  The lovely rich black across everything, the constant.  And culminating there and not hidden for a moment.  Degenerate.  Awful.  What it feels like for a….  the subject of everything virtual.  What does any of it mean?  Why was I placed there?  don’t ask for anything.  You are the only one who can make any change.  Thanks.  Disdain carried over through so many different sets.  This needs to stop.  If I could just snuff it all out.  Starting with myself. 

The new look of rain is quite lovely.