my electrifying hands are useless in the face of ruthless and sweet liquidity (in search of a new...maybe?)

I’m flipping in colors!  That’s what I realized when I woke up this morning before promptly taking a shit in the milk.  I think I’ll enter that contest.  If I win then I will happily through myself into the river upon completion of the enjoyment of my winnings; the spoils of victory.  Its going to be a while before I get that Metal storyline though I look forward to it with great relish and sauerkraut.  I should do some light reading later on. 

I regret that there is no straight through the glass conduit to Fairbanks.  I suspect it would be just the unhealthy obsession one needs to regain his mental and emotional faculties.  Especially with the mask related addition.  Always with a tree running down the side.  How many identities is that?  Every time I turn around there is a new one, all so thrilling.  To be slayed like that is a dream.  Cute mugging. 

With twenty dollars American I will unlock all the secrets in the known universe.  Then maybe I’ll paint my room pink and blue. No, wait, my room is already electric blue.  I need to a buy a frame for something.  I forgot the German word for frame but it was richly appropriate at one point, especially because this river always reminds me of another river.  The optical effects were recurring.  I know less and less about….

I saw a lovely Zatanna statue that I would kill to add to my collection.  But I don’t suppose that’ll happen anytime soon.  Oh well, such is bank.  Starting to see that face everywhere, melding now with things.  straight black is the preference but suddenly the opposite was suggested for its strength is ten times mightier.  And now it is seen that there is a perfect melding taking place.  The most important element is already there.  Mother, forgive me. 

If only I could have eaten corn flakes for breakfast today and dinner last night.  Then maybe I might actually be worth a damn.  Today is Kubrick Day.  I love the man’s work.  Could Barry Lyndon by my favorite of his films.  I don’t have the answer to that question.  I don’t have the answers to a lot of questions.  But still I stand guard, ever vigilant, ever waiting for signs of threats extraterrestrial.  I want to eat cereal at some point in the future.  Numbers have me. 

It was bugmen yesterday, more pointedly imagining himself in the place of the bugmen.  Yes, of course there was verbal taunting.  It’s all part of a very specific vinegar laden recipe.  And the denouement could really only be one thing.  But even this…brought him no real satisfaction.  There is nothing left.  Already a search has begun today but only to eliminate unnecessary distraction.  Can’t call in again.  I truly detest myself.  Don’t fantasize too much about dying!

You know, I really like that David Bowie Heathen.  I was listening to it the other day while driving in my car (where I feel safest of all, but of course I don’t know any hallways) and then I was also listening to it the other day while in the comfort of my posh flat though while there I was listening to it on wax.  I once purchased that album as a gift for someone.  I remember hearing it for the first time.  the last cycle always gets me.  don’t stay in a sad place.  If only. 

So it seems The Little Star will be returning this coming Tuesday.  Thank everything.  Perhaps this will be just the thing he needs to regain some semblance of feeling.  If The Little Star cannot bring him back then is there any hope at all?  Army colors and electrified nunchakus.  There has been a wealth of chances lately.  So grateful.  Tears of joy.  I am a separate and opaque version of myself.  I see my actions but have no connection to them save for suffering the consequences. 

Maybe if I were Amoeba Man I would stand a chance at winning that contest.  All the mystery correspondence that was never written.  All the dreams I had that never came true.  I’m alone in bed and crying now though this is actually years and years ago.  Is the circus in town?  How low can you go?  Of course, there’s the answer to how things will be started today finally.  The zeroes and ones iteration for the time being.  It takes me everywhere, emblazoned on my wall. 

Yes, back before the last one…she is the most…but also the most….  That is the best (and last?) chance.  There, now it’s all out in the home and predictably there is no satisfaction to be had.  The native show features such lovely accompaniment.  I am certainly intrigued by Wayne Shorter’s new album and will pick up a copy in a sun drenched town  upon its release.  We should all draw with blue pen more often.  How could I forget about that dreamy recollection?

Ah, so many things he will never see.  Cribbing a bit right now but lets raise our glasses: here’s to a lousy life!  The sundog requires much more attention of course but please let it be a sign of things to come!  The detective aspect of things has not been nearly as satisfying but does that perhaps harken back to those halcyon days of yore where a group of young upstarts created an empire based almost entirely on image.  I have found a vital new player; red and mesmeric. 

The rest in peace piece still remains a favorite of mine though it is crucial to note the only halfway involvement of the aforementioned subject of the young upstart comparison.  The pre purchased videos were not even used today.  I was laughing hysterically when I realized that all this time I was clasping onto to nothing more than an old bused HAM radio.  I’m going to get a haircut today.  Oh but who really gives a flying fuck?!

I’m bellowing like a gut shot pig now because it’s all gone to shit!  No, it’s gone to seed!  Oh, for his life to only be seen in standard definition.  Lots of things seemed to have meaning before but not so much now.  Lie down beneath the stars and look at your life.  All the empty fucks.  All the empty everything.  We demand convenience and the kindness of the in the moment companion.  We must spill our guts.  Maybe I’ll do something that makes me happy today but I kind of doubt it.