one zero one one

I took a trip down to Blowjob Park after drinking 17 cups of Nescafé.  Don’t mind me, I was just toiling away the hours searching ebay for used pantyhose and watching plus size pantyhose try on haul videos on youtube.  Oh my tender heart, it can’t take this!  I read a book recently.  Of course I spent most of my day playing Mario Golf for the Game Boy Color, still arguably the greatest video game ever made.  The movie Princesas always makes me cry.  I just love that movie and Candela Pena’s performance in it so much.  I’ve added it to my all time favorites list but of course that doesn’t really mean anything because I’m an utterly worthless person and growing more worthless by the minute.  Another night failure begins now.  No, I’m already in the throes of it and my hands are very cold.  I wonder what time I’ll wake up.  I’ve been listening to some Frank Zappa music recently.  And other music too.  Hope for Vikina.  By now I probably know.  I drove many miles to watch Parasite but not as many as for Suspiria.  I’ll drive many miles for Pain and Glory.  I feel blessed.  I am but I don’t acknowledge it nearly enough.  Please let that be the last time. 

I was drinking black coffee while finishing the Ken Russell movie Gothic.  Or was i?  the more I learn the less I want to know.  Let’s show this asshole we mean business. I’m currently reading the book Rum Punch by Elmore Leonard!  Or am I?  The more I learn the less I want to know.  No, wait!  I definitely am!  It’s a real corker of a novel!  That Leonard sure knows how to spin a yarn!  It’s good to mix up your reading.  Is D’arcy an underrated bassist?  Hard to say.  Finally, I’ll watch the extended cut of Margaret.  I haven’t been able to stop thinking about the theatrical cut for the past 15 years.  I recently watched the movie The Love Witch and loved it!  I was drinking heavily while watching it but that’s only because I’m often drinking heavily.  I would have ordered the little kit with all the hip tie in shit but I used up all my money (this was shortly after I was living like a king in the big apple).  I’ve watched a dance competition over the past several weeks.  What happened?  I was doing so well and now I’m back to wasting large blocks of time again!  I need to break out my old brown binder of management practices and really bone up on proper time management! 

I wanted to get very close to a painting today but could not bring myself to do so I just got kinda close but I did walk away with a small card that has an image of the painting and I guess that’s the best I can do.  Thinking of that late period Argento now.  Man, I love Joe Lally’s bass playing, just fuckign love it, so fuckign inspirational.  Eric Avery too!  What a player!  And Sting!  And loads of others!  You know, I love Flea, just love him, beautiful creative lines BUT I’ve never really been a big fan of his tone.  I’m sorry.  I feel like shit for saying it!  I’m gonna get a drink soon.  You know who’s an underrated bassist?!  Ben Shepherd from Soundgarden!  Man, Superunknown is full of tasty sumptuous playing!  Can’t forget about all the great keyboard bass out there.  I just have to play my tambourine.  Now I get it, though it’s much darker in this contemporary context.  My fault, no one else’s.  great placement right before something purely patriotic.  I regressed.  I messed up. 

I hate you! (I’m talking to myself).  I was listening to Ataxia’s first album earlier today while gleefully sinning (later on this glee would be transformed into deep self loathing and such is the nature of wisdom!).  I love that album and it is a constant aspirational and inspirational force.  You know, The Empire Strikes Back is just a great popcorn film!  Juts a classic slice of grand entertainment.  I’m still much more of a Trek guy then a War guy but… but you know what?!  Why the hell do we have to choose?  You can like what you like and that’s it.  Whatever, I’ve already lost interest in anything I’m saying.  Angel dust tomorrow. Thank you Milica for dressing so wonderfully again.  oh, i so desperately need help.  

Of course, I understand now!  My mental and emotional self defense against my self is too damn strong!  That’s why the much needed self loathing is always suppressed!  I need to kill those defenses!  I need to bathe in that self loathing!  Also, I’m damn excited for Camila Cabello’s new album dropping this coming Friday!  Hope I can find a few extra bucks on the street so I can purchase a physical copy! 

Is this the dark chapter of my life, he asked himself.  I want to spend this upcoming Saturday doing nothing for 7 straight hours.  Trent Reznor has artistically aged the best more than just about anyone involved in popular music in the past 30 years.  I really like the 80’s Scott Walker album Climate of Hunter.  I really like the 80’s Elvis Costello album Imperial Bedrooms.  I really like the writing of Barry Gifford and Elmore Leonard and Phillip K. Dick and J.G. Ballard and William Burroughs.  I’m overall quite a worthless person.  oh, I also really like Wes Craven’s 70’s movie The Hills Have Eyes.  Alexandre Aja’s 00’s remake was really good too!  And I really like his most recent movie Crawl!  I utterly failed again quite recently, twice in fairly rapid succession.  I feel so grateful that there is so much art in the world for me to enjoy and investigate.  Martin Scorsese’s last 2 movies are as perfect a career capper as I could imagine; they are stunning and beautiful works. 

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s14

It lay bare.  It lay buried.  Ah, my special talent for fucking everything up is alive and well (and living in Paris?).  I wonder if this is a new record for me.  the expediency.  The speed was truly something else.  How did it happen?  Easy enough to trace the ways.  Hahaha, I must laugh to myself again, the epitaph.  She spelled out the epitaph and it could not be more true.  Well polished.  But there was something else there too…hahaha, research again, my God but how that keeps coming back to haunt me.  I do it all to myself though.  I deserve it.  I desire the pain and destruction so I’ve no real right to be surprised when it shows up in force, ready to dance and sing and take everything away.  Ah, my heart is foul whorish thing.  My spirit is a distortion.  I spent a great deal of the afternoon and evening in tears.  I kept turning pages though.  But tears kept coming down.  all my fault.  Did this all to myself.  At least there’s a purity there.  can’t blame anyone else.  Don’t avert, what were you saying?

Oh yes, started out very simply, verifications.  It’s so hard to trust anyone these days, isn’t it?  With good reason. Just look at me!  then a bit of time travel.  This must have been…not quite before.  No, was this all planned out.

Even now, right this very moment, I am constructing an elaborate fantasy to make all this better.  And I will repeat this fantasy to myself a million times a second until it becomes my reality.  No, but underneath will always be waiting.  But it will be so close, it will so so close and it will dry my tears.  Oh, what lovely work harkens to that fantasy, this shared human experience, united we all are in our ugliness and helpless slave nature to sin. 

Take away the….

I don’t know if I can ask for this.  I see how it all has to happen.  I know exactly how it has to happen.  Bright lights, blue everywhere, hahaha, there it is again, electric blue.  Too appropriate.  I’ve got problems.  At least there’s some solace somewhere.  Fucking up is my only talent. 

But no,  I walk in.  then I’m shaking.  All written out and still shaking.  I understand this is the last time.  I need to ask for forgiveness.  That is the only thing.  We’re all so careless.  It’s all out there in the air somewhere.  And this presence of the other.  Was it somehow planned?  Knowledge of this danger had to be present.  Was this orchestrated?  Of course it was.  But I’m just too fucking stupid to figure out who’s pulling the strings here.  oh well, it doesn’t really make a difference.  My sins remain the same.  But see, there it is, in the face of what is necessary my elaborate fantasy is already providing a defense.  How disgusting. How fucking repulsive.  No, I need to say, I know this is the last time, all by my own doing.  I’m so fucking awful.  Please forgive me.  this was all so fast.  At some other time, there is some other dimension where this all makes sense and I am not such a vile piece of shit.  But I only have this world and it is a world entirely of my own creation and the only world I deserve. 

I would not be myself the next time around.

Crying again.  I am I am a terrible thing.  And everything around is me. 

Yes, started there and little things were dropped here and there.  and then a list and the image and all at once everything connected and why wasn’t someone told to stay away.  How could this have happened?  I have no right to anything good.  Betrayals all around.  I always betray. I can’t fucking get to the heart of it.  I can’t lay it bare.  I obfuscate.  This is my escape.  Even in the realm of confession I am spinning a fantasy. 

Just want to die in your arms. Please just let me die in your arms.  My desires are corruption.  I can’t even wish for my own death in a proper way. 

And of course…so lovely and idealized the response…this could never be real life.  There can only be fear afterward.  Trust is lost forever.  Why is it that even though things are clearer he feels more lost than ever?  This is the central….this is the…because it was all working, so much better than expected.  And yet he still found a way to fuck it all up.

Ah, and now he wishes this knowledge could be taken way, just whisked away, flip back the pages, it never happened.  If only.  But you go looking, and open things up…things you had no right to.  And you can’t undo anything.  Your sin is all splayed out.  Exposed and grotesque and these things will never be forgotten.  and they are only just beginning to explore the limits of their destructive power. 

Such a short amount of time.  and so much good being done, none of it from me.  from me there was only sin. Corruption.  A poisoned soul that poisons everything in it’s proximity. 

I did something very bad.  do you know what it is?  That’s how it starts.  There’s a lovely imaginary version of how it all turns out.  But this cannot be.  And I just want to say I’m sorry.  He just wants your forgiveness.  Things are far more gone than he realized.  Very little makes sense anymore.  But there are no excuses.  And no one else to blame.  Would there be fear present during this recollecting?  Almost certainly. how did this happen?  Because you willed it to happen. You wanted it to happen.  You’re only happy when it’s all going to hell.

No matter what I do everything is tainted.  This is what I have done.  In truth or lies everything is tainted and awful and the reason is because I am awful. 

s13

I spent the better part of the last couple hours jumping around my posh flat and spouting gibberish, spit flying, guzzling gas station wine.  I truly hate myself and I’ve reiterated this point to myself hundreds of time over the past couple days.  Don’t get ahead here.  now that I’m at the station but there was an eclipse before.  My dark eyes.  Part of me believes I’m actually a bit important and it is very necessary to extinguish that part.  Future days of nothing await per recent announcements.  Tomorrow will be another wasted day. 

But going back.  Where was I?  feverishly and drunkenly listening in the night before and filling out so much on a super official yellow legal pad.  I occasionally chuckle over how meaningless everything I do is.  I analyzed photos for 3 hours the other day – dreaming of happy hour.  I was something of an anti-personality in the moment, completely detached though later on misery took its toll but then thankfully the chuckles set it again and I was able to laugh over how useless it all was.  That was something I forgot to mention.  Not that it matters.  Nothing I think, feel or say actually matters. But here it is, out there in the ether somewhere.  Who really gives a fuck, right? 

Anyway, on the way over, thinking about my favorite things.  one minute passed, woman in elevator with baby smelled like smoke.  Should have let me go.  I’m not me anymore.  No, that’s just a dream. Always clinging to a dream to survive.  I lie about my lies.  Tomorrow I’ll wake up early to do something useless.  To be clear, it’s not useless because of anyone else, only because of me.  you are you are a useless thing you are you are an awful ugly thing and everything is you.  You are this universe.  You get the world you deserve.  This entire world is your own creation and it is exactly you have earned, exactly what you deserve. 

And now suddenly I’m tired.  Why bother?  It doesn’t add up to anything.  Two major things I suppose. And there was laughter at one.  which means I was just whining.  Should never have mentioned. Just fucking whining cause I’m just a fucking worthless whiner.  Oh well, can’t win em all I suppose, open your hands.  My experience is so trivial.  Does not matter, everything is schematically laid out, this template is useless because it is mine.  even with deeper understanding…nothing really comes of it.  This all means nothing.  I just wandered my apartment and went for another drink and briefly reflected on the dream I’m constructing of myself.  I feel tired.  The other day in the parking lot, wishing for…I don’t think these thoughts are real.  They don’t seem to be acknowledged so I reckon they are not real.  Some interior distortions are taking place.  I overreact sometimes. 

A new mythology presented itself and grafted right onto my existence.  Of course there is a siren, there is a mermaid (yellow tigers occasionally pop up).  I know were I to reintroduce myself to the sand there would be a mermaid present (sailor brave) and this would be a great big important symbol and I am so deeply dull and obvious.  It all adds up though, this new construction and somewhere I am driving furiously to reach the sunset and I am shaking, more than shaking, these are crazy fucking spasms and I am screaming as I become someone else and enter another life and oh this reminds me of how I almost passed out the other day while driving and boy that sure was scary.  I don’t know anything I don’t know anything.  Was there fear in someone’s eyes recently?  He would never hurt that person.  he would die before he would hurt that person.  ah, but see the great symbolism?  Fuck, I don’t even know what the hell it means.  Beckoning, no that’s not quite right, signaling, guiding to a deeper understanding but with that comes an entirely new construction.  I just punched myself four times in a row but I know how to do it properly so it doesn’t really hurt.  Or wait, this time it hurt but it wasn’t bad.  yes, to a deeper understanding but so lovely and gentle at first.  oh, I am so selfish and awful, why am I so terrible? What the hell is wrong with me?  you’re not brave, you’re a fucking piece of shit.  Everyone sees it. These aren’t even lies.  Don’t thank me ever.  I hate receiving thanks.  Wants me dead.  I was screaming over and over again yesterday and what happened after was great punishment of the body and then…blanking, ah yes, turning to the bottle, always a wise decision, I cannot function without poison, it can be external or internal but I fucking need poison to deserve.  I take extra special care to nurse all the ugliest parts of myself.   As time goes on the ugly things grow and grow, exert their dominance and I am a foul fucking piece of shit and I wondered about my brains exploding and making a giddy mess everywhere and how little it would matter. 

There was reprieve where I could lose myself entirely.  That is always the relief, when I’m not me anymore.  And then only richly deserved self loathing in all other moments. And I started to write a message and then I stopped and I was desperate for a repeat performance but I cannot.  And time is up with vibration and he knows she doesn’t care and that is how it should be.  But that probably isn’t true and nothing makes any motherfucking sense because my brain is so fucking twisted and I can’t get a goddamn thing right.  but what good does it really do?  Just a waste of time, incessant whining.  Just accept that you’re a piece of shit and move on.  I am a piece of shit. I just need to move on. 

No, before all that or after or whatever the fuck ever I went somewhere bright and couldn’t pick up a basket and I cursed my ass for being so fucking dumb – what the hell is wrong with me?!  and then everything was celebratory and no one deserves the awfulness of my company.  Then I woke up and everything was warm and grotesque and I knew at once that I am a form of evil – temporarily benign but the categorization remains.  I am putrid and disgusting.  No judgement cannot be true.  But that’s okay. That’s how it should be. 

s12

There were curtains afterward but that was a bit later.  Curtains at the fateful announcement.  I have lived with that one for so long.  No, immediately after everything was pretty much hunky dory.  Boy, do I keep fucking things up or what?  That’s always been my special little talent in life.  Still, things were a bit hazy over all.  I recall almost bursting into tears at the prospect of making an extremely minor change to something.  Then later on I laughed at what an utterly inept person I am; just a big fucking failure in nearly all areas of my life.  I only have myself to blame though so at least I take some consolation in that!  I can never cry at the right times.  I need to take some lessons.  So yeah he went about his day and though things became a bit hazier and there was that odd heaviness right in the center of his forehead he was able to let his personality slip away and get down to the dry business of life.  It was only when he went to the post office to make some copies and fulfill other menial and meaningless tasks that he sat in the parking lot for a long time and couldn’t get out of his car (where I feel safest of all) and couldn’t pick up the phone to make calls or do any of the things he was supposed to.  Instead he just imagined the weight of a well oiled and reliable thing in his hand that he could at himself, right there below the chin while looking up or right against his temple and it was such a comforting thought.  He let this thought wash over him for a good long while and eventually he realized that his personality had been making a nasty little comeback and that this lovely dream was the desperately needed antidote and so he was able to keep his awful self at bay again for the time being and with a big ol’ smile he entered the post office and completed the dry work which needed to be done.  He also stopped for a coffee afterward (or maybe it was before) and that was nice too. 

And then racing against the clock while racing the witch and one must eliminate the editions which emerged during the final year of the most recent century or at  least just few, need to make some changes I suppose though maybe there wasn’t so much bricking; I don’t believe in myself. First need to acquire that which is alone in all her sex.  And goodness knows I have another long reading list well at hand.  I went somewhere for a while and there was all these nonsensical considerations of crime and Venusians which really reminds me of a couple other things including a rather frightening encounter side by side with another vehicle that wasn’t a car as well as something of an invasion, an invasion I’ve long searched for.   

And it was nice to numb things for a while but that can never last.  I need to go back and have lunch again.  Whatever the fuck that means.  All these pirate imitators and their decapitations.  Of course nothing I say really matters.  Nothing I do really matters. 

All sorts of things to consider. Of course I was delighted with double missives.  I know I thought about killing myself for a very decent portion of the day and the thought made me feel good but I can’t recall if I was thinking about that in the lovely moment I just mentioned.  I suspect I was and it was simply a matter of…so confused, no, I got, it was lying down in sweetest sin, being pricked, I have this, those thoughts were always there and the sweet little bit of attention somehow made those thoughts even better, enhancing everything and making it all feel so warm and inviting.  Rushed out, no, that’s not true, but even if it were I would be the only one to blame because I am so utterly foul and worthless.  Lifetime commitment.  Life sentence.  Be mindful of the boy but I want to utterly obliterate the boy for how fucking simpering and pathetic he is.  No one failed me because I was never worth saving.  My needs have never been important. 

And in the end I couldn’t make anything work.  I desperately wanted to make this one thing work and it seemed so simply but as usual I fucked it up.  and there was such clear disappointment and I hurt and I felt bad and I wanted to cry but I don’t know anymore and I am just an ugly awful worthless thing whose specialty if fucking it all up and why did I even bother?  Back and forth and back and forth and I can’t do a fucking thing right. 

Hahaha truly I am just a foul thing that turns to other foul things for comfort.  Time and again I tell myself….  Green wheels come into play and it’s almost just right for today.  That color.  So often there was snake symbols and electricity and of course humiliating failure because how could there not be humiliating failure where I am concerned?  Both actually and within the realms of fantasy.  Yes, it was there, no sweat, didn’t even, and it happens and even with such strenuous preparation it happens again and much much worse and even more humiliating but somehow better and voices are quieter now and I so desperately want to feel something but I can’t except for self hatred.  I just want to go running into…and collapse into…but no, something shuts down, and it is very much that needed bit of isolation, that side which never sees the sun and there is a light switch and only one person could see it, and now I’ve showed it but even with this I am still ugly and worthless and believing otherwise would only be pathetically convincing myself of a lie. 

s11

Listening to new bat for lashes album as I write all this crap down.  I say crap for a couple different reasons but I’ll only name one.  one reason is that my writing is crap.  For a split second there I saw everything in technicolor. 

Following the meeting I was listening to David Bowie’s album Low.  This is a regular occurrence for me in many different avenues of my worthless life.  Important to note it is worthless because I am a failure and there is no one else to blame for my numerous and continuous failures other than myself.  You can’t polish a turd as they say.  But wait, that still implies there is some element outside my control but that simply is not true.  And I’m still waiting for a return call.  Hahaha, how hilarious and utterly fitting that I’m not even for that.  They’re not wrong.  Always crashing in….   Meanings are so clear now.  I felt especially awful earlier today taking a trip down memory lane (don’t confuse anything with a world tour or is it award tour?).  singularly awful.  You are going to be so sorry one day for the way you treated us.  Ah ah, you don’t got nothing to say that I wanna hear.  Such godawful dialogue all the time.  total fucking hack. The kingdom was lost for want of a chocolate donut.  Fuck, what worthless ugly fucking things we all are.  just petty little worthless fucks.  And then later one, I would take on the role of little friend.  and there were tears.  How fucking pathetic.  Yuck.  Hate to cross all these things together.  That fucking awful voice.  Well, what’s the big deal, they’re just bees?!  Was that a direct quote.  Don’t be rude.  So ungrateful.  Why are you so stupid?  I hope you’re fucking happy for this fucking mood you put me in!  Well, it’s entirely possible that – just shut up!!!  Does it really take that long?  Name, shut up.  GODDAMNIT NAME!!!  I think about floods was slammed on the ground and a paper amusingly took a bit longer to make it there. complete sentences are so tricky.  More screaming, I’m not a damn dog.  Or is goddamn dog?  If you talk to me like that again you will be out of my life forever.  Fourteen fourteen!!!  If anything happens to him I will blame you for the rest of your life.  You sit your ass down and take it.  You can go live with her whenever you want. Ah, but what of the secret diary entries.  I can talk to you however the hell I want.  Are you going to deny God?  Well it seems you’ve learned how to sign my name.  well you can just all go to hell.  C’mon c’mon!  I don’t need this.  I don’t have to answer to you.  You wouldn’t have made it.  There are other BLANKS who would die to have BLANKS.  If you’re not grateful.  I don’t know, don’t count on it.  One of these days I’m gonna haul off and….  That’s it we’re you BLANK, we shouldn’t have to beg.  Don’t start with your stupidity.  Don’t be obnoxious.  Goddamnit, that costs money.  Lately you’ve been saying a lot of things you should be sorry for.  It’s not going to be tolerated.  Ah, the long periodic moments of silence.  Days on end.  He could there have been a time when these were not treasured?  Eventually he learned.  Those were truly blissful moments.  Lets throw a little money into the backseat and leave a present on the stair.  Ah, sweet silences, particularly on special occasions hahaha.  Lets take it all down while we’re opening it up.  I don’t know what your problem is with me lately.  Won’t see her for maybe a year.  Ugly eyes bulge, oohohooooh.  Awful disgusting immature beast.  A thing.  A repulsive thing.  Fucking ugly and foul.  That was an incredibly cruel thing you said.  good.  Foolish to apologize. 

Vampires play the best saxophones.  Wait, what I meant is that the best sax players are vampires.  When I need trombone, my dog is handy.  I have a very tiny compact disc somewhere that took me ages to find.  Ah, the thrill of the hunt.  Now gone but not forgotten.  nothing really stays forgotten. 

See I went down this ugly awful rabbit hole.  But then afterward I think I lollygagged for a good while and failed again and restarted again and then I was forever refreshing my email and hoping for….  And the night came and around 10 I was okay I think and then around 10:30 I was getting scared and soon enough would be utterly terrified but I remembered a little enclosure and I used it.  And I used it and I started going back and forth between it and something much much larger and yes there was drink as well but it worked and then I got scared again and I went back to these again and worked and then again and it worked and it was chilly and warm and lovely and he asked her to pray for him and wondered if it was wrong but it felt okay, it felt very okay and there was more warmth and this was through the night into the lovely morning. 

And yesterday was failure again but little anger.  And today was failure again but maybe tinger with anger but…something greater still to…. Hard to embrace anything….  There was silence during the meeting and recounting a decade plus of existence and this provoked a gradual disintegration of his personality and is that normal because he can never say?  Of course, that leant insight into a most favorable perspective.  This is why friendship is not possible and that must make someone very comfortable.  I need to ask for forgiveness again and again because I am so awful.  He had to rush to make it.  And then what happened, locked in awful memory, and he has no idea if that silhouette in the doorway is real or not.  There is fear and bitterness and anger and he’s not ready yet for anything more.  He needs a white book.  a returned call.  Some lights going back and forth.  Electricity going through him.   Swim to her in the dark. 

Oh, and seeing Tatiana’s hosiery clad feet in high definition made me….

s10

I keep thinking.  And I now some want to end me. but I keep think about.  I can’t say.  Or I don’t know.  A kindness.  I know it’s all neatly defined.  Friendship isn’t possible.  That makes you very comfortable.  Still want and need to shed some tears. 

Caring female presence? Compassionate female presence? Kind female presence? Loving female presence? Nurturing female presence? Tender female presence? Loving female presence? Gentle female presence.  Comforting female presence. 

The new Tegan and Sara album is so good it almost makes me forget what a worthless failure I am; really lovely music.  You know what else I love?  Hildur Guonadottir’s score for Joker.  It’s a damn fine score and was very well used in the feature film. 

I was very much imagining death last night.  He wanted to die in her loving arms.  He wanted to die in her forgiving arms.  I got blazing drunk last night and smacked my head something fierce on a metal structure.  Then I intentionally cut myself 6 times.  The cuts don’t hurt but my head still does. 

I guess I am ultimately just a foul empty person.  you’re stupid (talking to myself here).  don’t play around, just do it already.  I complimented someone on a vest yesterday.  Communication with yours falsely must be met with abject horror.  I would like to watch another episode of Miami Vice but damned if my time management has not been great this week following a week of great time management.  He is terrified over how much he will miss her.  I felt bad earlier and a very perceptive person noticed.  I was drinking water when they noticed.  I told lies and asked for water.  I suppose mostly what I’m good at is causing pain.  There’s only one way for things to be….  This is so finite and so specific.  There is not a rapport in the real sense.  You should not care at all what I think.  How heartbreaking.  I can’t summon any words.  I don’t know how to express pain. 

Ah, I see now.  Everything was strategically placed electric.  Right down to the small tentacle creature.  So many little words and phrases remembered.  Ah, the great heights of professionalism which I will never know.  I don’t have any but I keep spending anyway because I like it and because why the hell not, right?  No, that’s not entirely true.  Have to remember everything but I was paralyzed with terror last night that I couldn’t fucking sleep a wink and that must at least be part of the reason why I keep looking over my t-shirt clad shoulder while I type this garbage up.  i wish I was drunk right now.  Same jokes about sitting down but he couldn’t stop smiling.  Desperate now.  And all at once things became decidedly psychedelic and he found himself in a starkly colored 70’s film, something along the lines of early Cronenberg and replete with odd technology which would doubtless open the doors to…. No, this is only fantasy again.  Always a comfortable retreat into fantasy and how lovely these things remembered and what is his safe place?  Oh yes, right there by the bridge there was unexpected hug and everything was lovely in that singular moment and he hasn’t been able to let go of it since.  And everything in an electric room now.  Now with the company of passengers and oh dear oh dear oh God its number three again and I don’t understand what’s happening anymore.  I hope those little blue doctors don’t come back because I hope they have never been before and oh what is happening?!  “You’re such a wonderful person but…. “  and I am susceptible to so much.  I am a benign form of evil.  This was realized the other day.  but am I benign?  Or that just what I tell myself.  No, please let’s go back to something else.  Great that the wind is blowing.  No, all the little things remembered, so lovely, the fruit there on the counter top, now with bold new color.  And then taken away by the bridge, why do you listen to these things?  and even after all those drinks your heart was fucking racing and she labeled it as….  Can that be right?  It can be right but what of context? And something else.  An addiction to fear.  How awful and fascinating.  Thank you for not laughing.  You’re doing the best you can.  Comforting words again.  Nothing makes any fucking sense.  Secrets locked away somewhere and things forgotten and now resurfacing, everything awful.  No, not everything.  Fuck, electric everywhere.  I want to live there.  and of course the orange profile and later on words from an orange tome.  It’s all fucking related.  But just hang on and yes thankfully he I realized cannot wait another extended period of time and it’s all going to begin again and who knows what will happen, least of all me because I never know fucking anything.  But yes, there was something lovely there.  laughing at all the right moments.  All cogs inside.  No sun in my eyes.   We repeat things.  time goes by way too quick.  I’m still searching for my script.  Almost broke down there.  said thanks and meant it. 

I recently watched the Batwoman pilot.  Or did i?  the more I learn the less I want to know.  Yes, I did watch it.  And I also watched the second episode.  I ‘m really on a roll with that series.  I love the new Bat For Lashes album too. 

I feel so awful now. Must be because I’m a piece of shit tee hee.  I’m not sure why I put tee hee because I’m not laughing now.  I actually feel quite bad.  oh well, I guess it’s well deserved.  Tomorrow will likely be another day of extinguishing personality.  I keep encouraging a friend of mine to buy his a wife a book of ancient Chinese history but he never listens.  No one ever listens to me.  and with good reason!   

s9

Listening to spoken word shit.  I was reading a book with an orange cover earlier.  Did you know I like to read at bars?  I love to drink and read.  Someone wants to fuck next to his books of ancient lore.  Something isn’t quite adding up here.  no, it is.  Never mind.  Gotta stop resisting the levity.  Erica Durance is definitely my favorite Lois Lane.  For me, her’s is the definitive portrayal and one that will very hard to beat.  I think of her when I read the comics. I need to figure out which Frank Zappa album I wanna listen to tomorrow during a drive.  Is it okay to call it a night?  Rare moment of peace.  You know I really like avenue b.  you know I really like that album by Bebel Gilberto I have, lovely lovely music.  Need to acquire more.  On an unrelated note and different medium, Limon’s words made me cry multiple times.  I love Clive Barker’s writing.  Or do I?  the more I learn the less I want to know.  Wait, yes, yes, I do love it.  Listening to some weirdness while I write. 

The little green wheels again.  I was tearing apart my room, frantically searching.  Alas, and thanks God, they were all gone.  I did something right for a change.  But even the midst of doing right I still do wrong. 

Eroticized rage.  Violence against women.  Even if she abuses me at least she’s still paying attention to me.  a container; a large safe.  A safe place.  I could not find one.  whole body shaking before that.  Numbness in my arms, going out everywhere.  Could read the language.  odd contradiction, hate people, and yet the feeling of safety.  Safety with one other person. 

I’ve said it countless times before, no, I’ve quoted it countless times before but it’s more true than ever that research has pierced all extremes of my sex.  I didn’t know I couldn’t sit at the bar; man, I’m stupid.  Saw the excitement in your eyes (ready, set, go!). 

Well, well, revelation time.  and that is a most appropriate word.  Its always great to discuss degrees of evil.  And I now know that the evil inside of me is much greater than I imagined.  Limitless depths. 

I’m so tired and my hands and fingers ache and I am drink cheap red wine.  I listened to a lot of music today and that is a good thing.  I do so love the album The Idiot by Iggy Pop, lovely and essential work from the Berlin era.  I think I’ll go to Berlin someday.  Speaking frankly is so very hard.  Can hardly stay awake right now.  I feel like I’m driving through a rain storm.  I can only think of other people’s words right now.  No, I can speak frankly and honestly.

My heart is an ugly awful thing.  It is  incapable of being faithful.  That is merely one facet of it’s ugliness.

The confession…maybe admissions is a better word.  No, I think confession is better and more thematically resonant.  Felt wonderful and horrible.  I am a weak pathetic thing.  But I long to make the same confession over and over again.  I need something else to help me shed tears. 

I am feeling all over the place.  I know something will pass.  I think it will pass.  Part of me does not want it to pass.  Excitement in your eyes.  I know there is a kind presence.  I’m fucking it all up again.  Make a dedication later on.  Please let me be able to make that dedication.  He’s drinking again.  I’m going around in circles.  Always crashing….  Of course, I am feeling sadness and regret.  Everything is making so much more sense now, new meanings and reinforced meanings.  Haha, I am such an ugly thing.  But how beautiful and appropriate now.  All my violence.  I’m so glad….  But if only this time could be different.  At some point these paths will fall away from one another.  I can’t ever be….  Fuck, everything is just recollection of….  There’s only one way for things to be between…that was on something I made for someone else a long time and that someone is in my safe place.  Nothing real outside my dreams.  There’s only way and I need to shake these awful feelings.  Anyone who says I am not a terrible ugly person is wrong.  Violence.  This was always the secret ingredient.  And all these years I was only fooling myself.  Haha, had I actually started to convince myself I am a good person.  I’m more blind than all the others I’ve ever hated.  And just as awful. 

All scattered and absurd now.  In love with Tatiana. 

Toda la felicidad.  On the verge of crying while driving but couldn’t quite make it there.  and man, that is a terrible feeling.  I feel it now even while I drink heavily and call to sister midnight (I’m an idiot for her).  no judgement.  But I think that has to be impossible.  And I know that hurts me so much.  Because the foundation is constructed of ugly things.  put it in a safe.  I should have chosen a led box.  Fuck, it’s all gone to shit now.  I’m spewing hatred.  I’m a little baby.  I’m a fucking ugly whiny bastard. 

We’re all writing the end to our own stories.  We’re all wishful thinking our way to the end of our own stories.  We’re all spewing bullshit and then gulping it down again. 

I need to spill more words once I figure it all out.  This is an interesting start.  I don’t know where I’m at.  I’m out of money though.  Oh well, I’ve been out before.  I’ll be out again.  It took me forever just to fucking say it.  God, I’m a wretched thing.  Worthless piece of shit.  Why can’t I feel this?  Why can’t I feel anything? I feel awful and then I feel nothing.  I’m screaming now like I was screaming in my car earlier. 

s8

I feel so bad.  I’m taking a trip through all my most recent failures so of course it’s taking quite some time.  Instead I should have walked with you through your fanfare.  I need to drink a glass of water.  Crude red over the mountains; they do, more than people realize.  Ah, falling back into place again.  When did it start?  Not so long ago.  Searching and the jackal for real this time the real jackal and later on the fruitless search (at least he could resist that) for the jackal who is not the jackal.  Nothing really matter I suppose.  Hahaha, I laugh to myself.  I’m such a worthless failure.  Time and again I tell myself….  It’s either all an accident or all fate.  I was an accident. 

I feel so awful inside.  Everything good about me – what little there was – is rotting away.  Of course, no one else is to blame but myself.  I walked away and felt horrible.  That’s not…whatever.  Can’t think of anything.  I gotta buy a book.  I gotta eat at some point.  Everything feels awful and pointless.  No one’s fault but my own.  My fingers hurt.  Water and pigs.  On the way home, always crashing, I’m tired now so I need to drink something to wake me up.  I don’t care about any of this.  I sort of like this grey area I’m floating in.  I’ll probably drink later.  Nothing really matters.  Was something purple today?  I think it might have been.  Please don’t say my mine.  I could never say anything harsh.  And a little dahs of self destruction again.  I never do anything.  This is the end of everything.  One long deformed expanse of tedium and mediocrity.  A much wiser man’s toast, “here’s to a lousy life!”  hands ceasing to function, spirit in peril.  What shitty words.  I was sitting with a bunch of blue.  It takes a great deal just to open my mouth and speak.  When I started talking about the one thing I felt strange tingling in my hands.  I can’t say anything.  I don’t want to see anyone.  Why can’t everyone just leave me alone.  It doesn’t seem like that tough of a request.  But what the fuck do I know?  Now I am needy, I am a needy little bitch and I just replace one fucked up thing with another.  There is no end to my corruption.  Man, I’m useless.  I want to open my window but there’s too much fucking noise outside.  There are too many things I want to say.  I need to get some money though.  Nothing makes me feel good.  I feel torn up, I feel awful.  My stomach hurts.  Must write down on some parchment and talk about all my unimportant bullshit very soon.  Too much coffee.  I’m addicted to my sinful bullshit, man I’m a piece of shit.  It’s not disappointing because disappointment implies I was unaware.  I’ve always been aware.    

Made some comparisons but no one asked for my….  Don’t like when our needs are so obviously publicized.  I was just thinking of something beautiful.  These are beautiful moments.  It is odd to think I can exist inside a beautiful moment.  Wide naked eyes.  Robbery again.  And there is silver coming down.  Thank God for Low.  I’m always crashing….  I would have done it for now if not for.  Haha, but of course Jasmine is actually…I mentioned feeling free somewhere else.  Thanks the Lord for the entire Berlin era.  I was at a bar earlier and reading about but I was driving earlier and listening to it.  It made me feel good and worthwhile and also met me on all the levels of feeling bad. 

After the entire day I still only understood a very small amount.  I see how limited everything must be.  I realize now friendship is impossible.  Hahahaha I have become something so beloved but I am something so awful.  My bedspread is red. The curtains to my bedroom are red.  I drink heavily.  I go out to the balcony on occasion and sing a little song.  I frequently wear that mask of regret.  I’ll be driving the ambulance one day and making jokes about the dead man.  I’ll give the signal for a touchdown when we blew it all to shit!  I’ll chase after you when you run away. I am evil. This is certain.  But I still love you even though I don’t stand a fucking chance of understanding how to love. 

It may be necessary for some type of passing the buck.  Of course I would understand. I need to scour these lines for something to use.  I was somewhere else earlier and mystery was laid out before me.  I realized yet again how awful I am.  Of course, the beginning of fucking up took place in a black and white world. And then investigation, research shall we say.  And then later on I was a lovesick puppy and the easy comfort felt oh so natural and there was a woman dancing in a black dress.  There is a ray gun pointed to my head.  I need look at the proper remasterization.   

After the confessions I felt bad, drove around, listened to Bowie and other things, felt progressively worse and wanted to look at stuff, reminded me in book that it is quick fix, something that is always there for you, reliable, always works.  I wrote about it.  I also know, I do like writing and feeling creative, and I know I mentioned negative stuff often feels more real than positive stuff, I like feel creative.  Drinking numbs feeling sexually aroused.  I think I feel weird here and like sharing and then its stops and it’s like I’m thrown in a weird pool and I get used to it and then I’m thrown back out.  I am a world class jerk for most people.  Correct feelings on…Correct feelings on…

Talk about driving around and crying and saying I’m bad and going to burn in hell. 

I love you. 

Fuck it, I should just go get wasted and read The Tommyknockers again. 

On a totally unrelated noted, I love love love Prince’s 1996 album Emancipation and I have so many wonderful memories discovering and bonding and growing with this music.  Gotta get wax! And eat some cereal! With soy milk! Cause cows are for calves! 

s7

I think I love Iggy Pop’s new album.  And Lana Del Rey’s new album!  Not Tool’s new album though, yeesh.  It’s easily their worst in years; don’t even want to waste any time writing about it.  I need to pick up Bat For Lashes new album.  And a couple other ones I can’t remember right now.  I have to buy some books too, another Limon (she wore….).  No, I’ve made up my mind.  I love Iggy Pop’s new album.  It makes me feel so free. 

What the hell am I doing? I recently asked myself this question.  I looked long and hard at a receipt recently and it made feel bad and nostalgic.  I don’t know what the hell I’m doing, that’s for damn sure.  I am so very flat right now.  But it’s a good.  The other day he wished someone would take him out to a field and shoot him in the head.  Then after a beat everything was fine.  I need to start waking up earlier.  My hands are hurting something fierce.  I’ve been writing other things lately.  They’re more than likely utter crap though, just like all the other crap I write.  I have no idea what I’m saying or writing anymore but I’m convinced it doesn’t matter.  I watched the Miami Vice movie the other day.  damn, I love that movie.  I also like the show.  I’m wearing a t-shirt right now.  If only I was wearing a jacket too.  I’m listening to words now.  I am an awful person.  let it not go…i don’t know, lost interest in my sentence there.  but I am bad.  I’m so blah lately.  I’m just a big nothing.  It doesn’t really matter though.  I can’t abide by the thought of…something.  I don’t know.  Corrective shit.  I can eliminate something.  Because I am awful.  But wait, I mean, I can eliminate something awful in me but I’ll still be awful.  That will never change.  Don’t believe in yourself.  I was looking at the same date every night right lights out.  During the review of said data I was also drinking heavily.  And such is the nature of wisdom.  I ate pizza twice last week.  No wonder I’m such a flabby sack of shit.  I read a couple beautiful books recently.  They were very inspirational.  You know I really love U2’s album Zooropa.  And I love how the penultimate tune quotes Bukowski.  It’s a great inspirational line..  I don’t really know what my problem is.  I’m just a terrible person. hahaha, I chuckle to myself, I guess that’s my problem.  Avoid eye contact, fella.  Just stare right next to a person, right to the right of em.  That’s the key. Patience is the key.  Time, patience, the right berries.  Items are coming for me in the mail tomorrow and I’m so excited I may just go put my freshly washed laundry in the drier.  And then hopefully I’ll throw myself off the fucking bridge though of course I don’t have the fucking guts to what’s necessary.  Never have, never will (and you’ll never know).  Of course I need to order post haste that limited edition marine wax.  It is too lovely, too brassy.  No, not too brassy, the brassiness is fantastic, I love it, juts fucking love it. Maybe I’ll write about it in depth. 

Ah so even in the midst of all this recovery and purity I still manage to taint it because my heart is a foul dirty little thing.  Of course this is exactly the way I want it.  I don’t think I can trace it back.  What am I talking about.  Of course I can.  Because he went in with this drive, this direction.  In that it all folded out as it was supposed to.  And then the recurring motif of research and my God I did not even realize until this very moment with these calm voices ringing out how true it was and is and always will be.  The voices are testament to everything.  I don’t think it was the next time.  whenever, one of the next times.  It all adds up.  What a lovely season of corruption.  Not a season, no, this is corruption everlasting.  This is everything you touch being tainted for life.  Yes, the other day he could not even get the words out, all too pointless.  What was amusing is…whatever.  No, wait the possibility of knowledge.  Foreknowledge or something.  The possibility that the person you think does not know may in fact know and in reality you want that person to know.  And in weird moments nothing feels serious and in fact it doesn’t really feel like anything.  It is like I am just apart from myself and apart from everything and I never know if this is bad or not.  Oh, what bullshit, of course its bad and it’s nothing more than generous and elaborate self delusion so I can for a moment pretend that I am not complete shit and that everything I do and create is not complete shit but of course that lie is too fucking weak to survive for too long.  We’re dealing with brains here people.  But yes, the knowledge.  And then it all came back to that great horned beast the rhinoceros.  Yes, that and the subsequent two iterations including a number which will soon have a very particular significance.  So many are healing currently.  I know his philosophy is not all right.  He has to believe this is on the right side oh for fucks sake just what you mean.  It’s because it does not entirely add up and trust is so fragile.  This has to be real but please don’t talk about love because it all sounds so false but that is entirely my fault and nothing else really matters, only the fact that it is only my fault, no on else is responsible and my great love of sin is not about me giving in but only about me embracing and kissing so tenderly my own fucked heart.  I feel anxious and awful right now.  I just have to remember the pointlessness of my feelings and that pointlessness stems from me being a rotten piece of shit.