somewhere around three five past the one but really all (need to address the other thing at a future point, succumbed to hands and feet)

New morning, new day and I’m still the same loser I’ve always been.  Do you remember being told new year, new life?  We’d have to travel back to the original water writings entitled O (1-10) to really understand what that all means.  Thankfully, his hand was forced so there is seemingly no chance of a repeat performance.  Don’t kid though, there is always a chance.  The new and much needed water writing have yet to commence but they are more necessary than ever.  Regardless, I need to get more bad brains on plastic and wax.  I’m falling in love with wax.  Horrifying visions in the early morning.  My own scream terrified me.  dark awful presence right in the corner there.  damned.  Terrifying thought (or is it a realization?) that we are damned.  I love the movie Kings & Queen; what a great film.  I need to watch it again soon.  I have a hard time with a lot of Godard. Or do i?  the more I learn the less I want to know.  Thankfully, I found BB, what an indelible influence.  Still, the cutups were there for me long before.  They’ve always been there.  gotta be carefull when I play the William Tell games.  The Little Star (the most…but also the most…all commanded through loving strangulation) was returned to me and everything was glorious but just like that I was denied again and my world is now dark and terrible.  I can’t accomplish anything.  I’m self-sabotaging again.  I’m self-medicating again.  Demonic presence from the corner of the room.  Whatever happened to soy bomb is an excellent question.  Wax is still calling to me.  low blows.  Everything works out I suppose.  Written words making their commands.  I still don’t know anything.  My copy of earthling is translucent teal and I wouldn’t have it any other way. Pucks.  Biscuits.  Multicolored pucks and biscuits.  Never a jack fan but I love seeing his wax love and all he’s done for the spirit of wax.  And now I understand the aggressive expression of Edward in regards to spinning and all the colors combined.  Rather you than her.  but no, I’m controlled by all these compulsions.  Still I wait for true justice the jackal and that classic huntress.  All combined in shades of black, purple yellow graph paper black again.  Everything, the previous so amazing and now I just wait for this while I drink black coffee and I can’t concentrate on anything maybe I just need to put on bad brains.  Who am I kidding I need a beer.  The earliest endless column in existence is now on display but alas, I will not be able to view it.  I got to make a phone call to plan for another phone call.  While waiting for little star (the most…but also the most…) maybe I’ll have to attempt some experiments with tape recorders.  Be careful not to doubt the shear/sheer malleability of the written word (HSN videos have me, Ahh…).  Think I’ll go to store.  True to all these explosions (no longer granting me stubs but instead flimsy and useless paper) my fierce and emotionally empty ejaculation was followed by surging hot diarrhea.  He wouldn’t have it any other way.  Such rich sensations.  Such alleviations.  We were all interested in folding and trading tapes back then.  Oh to be alive again during those sweet dulcet times.  I really need to talk about something else shown today but I’ll do that later but dagnabit I’ve gone and broken the even keel I so richly worked for.  Good thing Jim Beam is so damn cheap.

 

Not sure what I’ll read next but I have many good options.  Listening to bad brains now.  Hosiery on my mind as is standard practice around here.  Think I’ll buy a deck of cards later and some black coffee.  How do I get those rich dulcet bass tones found in Jamaican arts?  It’s just Jah calling. Yes, I was granted an epilogue and the epilogue is where I will begin for the initial run of the next set of water writings and it will also represent the first link on the needed symbolic paper chain.  Denim.  Don’t lose.  I see now: CGDG. 

I’m being teased now.  The pink maple would be grand were it not for so much false interpretation.  New talent dripping into the mix in a realer iteration as a new obsession takes hold.  Black on fences.  Smaller than fences but dare not speak of aquatic life.  Feigned interest like all the almost great tricksters of the world.  You have a real chance though as seen at the end of this missive and must not blow things now. 

I’m loving these new songs that Gloria Trevi is putting out.  And this video!  Whoa!  I mean (with a used pair thrown over my head), cue the deep breathing and nearly passing out and the table movements oh!  Oh!  Oh yes!  Ohhhhh!!! 

I recently purchased a copy of Batman: Damned #1.  I specifically purchased the Jim Lee variant not realizing what a hot item it would be.  Such is the nature of wisdom.  With the lights down low I read said comic.  My review would be highly positive.  I was transported back to the days of yore, reading classic Elseworlds tales and great prestige formant miniseries like The Cult or beautiful works of art like Arkham Asylum (A Serious House On A Serious Earth).  Bermejo’s art cast a spell on me and how could I not love appearances by magical folk such Zatanna (swoon.  I keep putting off the statue fund, what the fuck I already lost the bunny) and Deadman.  And that last page. DAMN!  They went there, huh?  I eagerly await the next issue and am pleased this is only a 3 issue miniseries. 

Well, looks like the joke’s on me.  then again isn’t it always.  Yes, truly.  I am the clown at midnight.  Still, this is a tragic and glorious moment and already bred with striking paranoid ramblings and all manner of conspiracy theories.  No doubt it is a chance for salvation.  The questions remain.  Do I still need to write water?  And the paper chains.  Epilogue in the truest sense of the word.  Peanut butter.