wicker (alternate mid tomorrow), also 3m3c3 (i think that last 3 is right, noose and braille)

This started out as something else.  But that’s okay. It’s in many ways related to something or maybe that’s only the first paragraph.  No, the first couple I mean. 

His heart is awful.  Emotions betray everything.  Do you remember how safe you felt inside that storm?  Do you remember running through it on a summer evening?  It makes sense.  Please do not shed any tears because that would just be so fucking pathetic on your part.  Why not try to be a good person for once in your utterly worthless life?  I can’t even get any words out anymore.  Just a useless waste.  Something is clouding my vision here.  amongst all those old books do you recall discussing the tortured history that brought us all together?  Hesitancy and then revival the very next time.  cranberry and cream and something new unrecognized but joyous and oh please be for me. cold in the middle in the path and too scared to go down.  this was so dangerous and so wonderful.  And it’s all over now.  As it should be.  And he that it I feels terrible because I am terrible and everything that comes from me is petty and selfish and stupid.  And desire is not very intelligent, is it?  Try to hang on to a moment of loveliness?  Can one exist if I am involved?  Who’s gonna take the….

That will going again and again and again.  Salt water and broken glass.  And now everything around is electric blue and that feels richly approrpitae.  I need a strong drink now to help drown out the constantly reoccurring affirmation of how pathetic and worthless I am and deserving of mockery are all my fucking stupid little feelings. 

I considered spending dollars but then thought about it rationally and realized I could just search and or read later.  But I will make it a point for loyal viewership once it officially kicks off.  right of the bat I immediately became a fan of Riho and decided I will be in her corner until the end of my miserable days.  What else did I do today?  I listened to Lana Del Rey’s new album.  Full review coming soon!  Or is it?  The more I learn the less I want to know.  At the same time I was only able to watch a bit of the other thing.  With the torment and the one who recently stirred controversy in the world of performance art.  For the record, I agree with you and have long held that opinion.  Though my opinion is utterly worthless.  I may require an encouraging message. That sounds lovely.  It’s amazing how much of a loser I am.  Goddam man child.  Is that me?  I a am not really worthy of anything.  Casual profanity had me today.  Just watched a blurry version of the last chunk of the Riho match.  Definitely seemed solid, makes me anticipate the coming launch (also a Jericho fan for sure).  The crucifix at the end maybe wasn’t entirely smooth, couldn’t be sure but it still worked.  Curious about the titular.  Good style.  She seems to be getting over quite well.  But what the hell do I know?! 

I repeatedly come to the realization that there are no other reasons other than the fact that I am a terribly awful person.  so it’s not really necessary to dig deeper and look at past influences or even motivating factors.  I am simply awful.  I know I’ve addressed this before but it’s weighty.  Or something.  Fuck, I don’t know. 

I really like the album Tusk and I’ve listened to it a lot recently.  There are songs I sometimes listen to in the dark and sometimes they make me feel not so awful.  Drinking in excess also helps.  I recently discovered a veritable treasure trove of stuff meant for my eyes and it all started with an orange piece of paper.  I must make time for great things.  I can’t forget about another Del Rey not at all related to the one I mentioned earlier but there is some classic combat I need to catch.  Or maybe it’s all related.  I don’t know anywhere.  I don’t really know much of anything cause I’m so stupid.  I really like the book I’m reading now.  I also liked the design on the dust jacket. 

I was doing something else today when I happened upon the unexpected recounting of a home and a witch.  It was all in stark contrast with one another and it was in those golden age moments where I fell for Sonia.  Then I scoured everything so I could find what I was looking for.  Always with the advent of glass and plastic.  What I was talking about earlier.  Yes, the new. It reminded me of the glorious feeling of feeling low.  the colors of my room are quite electric.  I don’t think I can afford to wait for any gifts.  There was singing and dancing, yes?  We were at some kind of tropical club.  Ah, I remember now. Initial disappointment as it seemed everything was going away.  But no, that’s not true.  An extra layer actually made everything better.  An extra layer that did not quite obstruct anything.  And I’m gone again.  It’s a good thing they were all thrown out.  Initial confusion only led to another discovery.  Further research.  Always piercing.  I thought it was child against parent but no, in fact it all had to do with a witch.  And now I know it’s a possibility, the plastic acquisition.  Sonia, I swear. 

You acted so very honestly and intense.  It is truly lovely.  It all makes sense now why it is no more.  Of course, I think as my head goes light, how utterly proper.  Still, this will all always play out again and again in a thousand alternate places.  Across those shelves of books with cream and cranberries and he hopelessly begging she could be meant for him.  In one of those places it comes true.

Tiffany looked amazing. Beautiful.  Everything.  And of course the h…the den…  Dual pink with lethal flower.  And I drown. 

s6

I was in church and then I was taken back to a spring day.  fill in the blanks here.  already I started off incorrectly because it was summer not spring.  These were the days of journalism, of cigarettes and ink and…no, that is all bullshit. I am so full of shit.  Nothing I say is ever correct.  Summer, and there was a green dress. Maybe yellow.  It was lovely.  I tried so hard for the proper coverage.  I would make myself known.  In church today I was brought back to this moment.  A moment which is entirely inconsequential to the universe and all the other players involved but which is extremely meaningful to me.  that moment and several others are all on one chain and one leads to them all.  I don’t like to think about these moments though because they are too beautiful.  But I was unable to stop it today.  Was it grass or perfume or something else?  Why was I there in the first place.  Of course I remember, initial return and there was a big convention of sorts to cover.  That was not the first time though?  Why is everything so mixed up.  It’s because you don’t like thinking about these things.  my God, I am simply so awful.  Thursday is to be an important day.  though I am not sure what I am allowed to celebrate.  Yes, standing there, the summer dress was renewed.  And along with that was something else.  Polka dots.  Navy blue and white.  And something else which was discussed in depth yesterday and which always exerts a terrifying control.  I’ve seen the future and….  Ah, more and more is unfolding.  Don’t confuse so many smiles but there were three at dinner, remember. This was a very important narrative to relate. Three at dinner and two were oh so kind.  There was color and that was the theme.  Maybe I’ll stick around for a little while.  These were beautiful words.  Later on bearing witness at two distinct locations.  No, in fact not so distinct at all, one just an extension of the other.  Recognition, oh my gosh.  So friendly. 

Then at another location for thanksgiving.  Laughs, what help?  What was I even doing there?  I am nothing.  Nothing really matters.  Hands going numb now and I need a drink. 

Do you like coffee?  That was the question.  The only question which has ever really mattered?  Didn’t you notice the constant participation.  The Italian who is not Italian.  Haha, I laugh, who understands but one.  hands already going numb and I need a drink. 

Multiple encounters everything dying and he was too blind to see the force of obligation taking hold.  Oh what a foul pathetic creature I am.  Haha, it’s all related see.  I mistakenly believed in some purity.  That was my mistake from this very morning where for a moment I allowed myself to indulge in those lovely moments which are typically banished.  But in so doing I somehow bought into my own hype.  Hype that only I created. 

What am I saying?  It’s clear.  Up til now in the back of my useless diseased brain there was a part of myself clinging to these banished memories, thinking they were somehow separate from these other things.  that’s not true though.  In cowering from my evil they simply manifest as a different type of evil.  In some ways they are a simply more pathetic version of the original foul thing.  It’s almost impossible to believe I could manifest as even more pathetic than normal but I accomplished it.  It seeps into everything now.  Because it was always present.  You were always present to haunt things.  your desperation was never more palpable.  Hahaha, if I could go back I would simply blow my brains out and be done with it.  Nothing could be more appropriate.  Can you be more clear.  Hope was on the table and what was inside that hope was your ugly festering heart.  But somehow you created another version and kept it separated and this one had the illusion of purity.  Did you murder it and or did it blow it’s foolish brains out?  Because this was not pure either.  Again, this was as infected and foul as anything else and just curled up cowering in the corner and crying and wondering and pleading.  I would be so good, it said.  I would be everything you need.  Yes, put this thing out of its misery.  But is that what happened?  Or was it simply reabsorbed.  Even together these things do not seem to co-exist.  Except they do.  No, what the fuck is it.  It’s all the worst aspects of both mentalities splitting up and combining over and over again.  There is no positivity to be seen or felt here. 

Can’t forget about all the desperate words.  Hahaha so amusing and sad.  How many times was that old trick carted out.  Fuck.  The words were typed out this time as opposed to hand written but the result was hilariously the same.  Of course there could be no other result.  This was the most appropriate.  This topic is everything.  Repeated later to much alienation. 

And then less and less because it never matter. I’ve said it before.  So obvious now.  Again, I do not matter.  Yearning is such a deeply pathetic thing.  The creatures crawling along the walls were me.  I was in church and something came back to me and for a moment it felt good but only because of a strong lack of self awareness.  This has been cured.  I have never done anything good.  I would apologize to you but why pro long any contact with me.  he was rightfully discarded a long time ago and best to just leave it at that. 

What was once beautiful is now tainted like everything else. But again, that’s not quite right because it was never beautiful in the first place.  Nothing involving you could be beautiful.  Others may and have presented beauty but why damage what isn’t yours?  So I suppose it is okay for me to indulge in these “lovely” memories because they now serve as a rightful mockery of what I believed. 

s5

Ah, now I realized a bit too late I was leaving someone out; someone very very crucial.  But what to do about personification?  What is the proper pronoun to use?  For surely this has just a big a role in the things as anyone else.  And now thankfully he tossed it all into the trash.  Right next to his bleeding heart.  Hahaha how melodramatic.  How trite!  And how long will that resolve last?  Hopefully at least the span of an hour. 

Here is the difficult part though.  He cannot recall at all when this particular bit of enslavement began.  But no, that is no the proper word. Any word or phrase which takes any bit of responsibility away from him or even suggests that it was somehow out of his control needs to be banished.  Please do not raise any bullshit about differences in willpower. 

There is one memory from things did not have such sharp clarity. More calm searching would be needed to recover the actual name.  star comes to mind but that cannot be correct and is likely being confused with another monumentally important figure. Ah, so clear now though.  The word office is applicable but not because it described a place.  And things were hanging off the edge, threatening to fall at any second.  This was so crucial.  This was a time of discovery.  Innocence has never entered into this but to be able to go back and halt everything at this one moment….  And from there can you recall the initial searching?  There was so much, so frantic.  And on those rare occasions where glass was not needed….surely there was nothing greater. 

No, see, this is the fucking pathetic mistake which was and shall be made a million times over.  There are many better things.  or maybe there is only one better thing, one or two, but they are so all encompassing, so obviously superior that it only clearly illustrates what a useless and sad fuckup I am.  But there is odd mysterious power at work.  no, again not true.  Again, he is simply trying to let himself off the hook.  It must be lovely to attach mysticism to things.  hahaha, I am laughing again.  Man, I am so fucking worthless.  Fuck, I am so unbelievable fucking ugly and putrid and nothing I do has any fucking value to it because it all comes from me and anything said or done could only pure shit if it comes from me. this is crucial to recognize.  Forget mysticism you worthless fuck. Forget thinking there is nothing better.  Or course there is.  And he has experienced it.  But the foul rotten heart inside him was screaming for something else.  Screaming on repeat.  Hahaha what a bunch of useless words.  Ah yes, those initial findings, that particular one remains but there were so very many.  And then the find of the century which somehow combined everything. 

Last night laying down I was actually driving along the freeway.  It was a very cool night and I was in a convertible with someone and it felt good to have the top down.  I think they met a prostitute out by the airport.  At once I understood that process of enslavement I would like to use as a scapegoat for myself….i saw it in them….they were me…we were all exactly the same.  I looked at the scars on his abdomen and face and they are the exact same ones I have. 

Plastic bag inside another plastic bag.  Frantic when the plastic was used and it all seemed so necessary but the spirits left and that remained was my horrible rotten self. All reactions only amounted to the unshakable intrinsic evil which always has a drink and laughs but this is not a scapegoat either and now I see you will stop at nothing to try and pass this along. No, that intrinsic evil you speak of is only yourself and nothing else.  And that deranged laughter is coming from your own mouth.  You just realized it a little too late because you are so fucking unbelievable stupid.  Ah, that piece of blue inside my mouth.  Depraved and deranged.  The mechanical devices keeping the legs so rigid.  This is all the same thing.  Can’t remember when or how it started but forever afterward it was always present  sensory was the priority.  That’s not quite right but the desire to obfuscate is so strong.  Wrapped around.  Vision blurring and breathing in deep.  A thousand different things imagined but all coming back to the same source in the end.  Fuck,even that isn’t right.  Focus.  Central.  And yes, you found the constant which encompasses everything and gleefully built a towering altar to your own hateful self destruction.  I must clap for you. 

Flash forward to bright lights and looking around and snatching.  No way to obtain the genuine artifact.  Or maybe there was.  Questions popped up and out.  And then again through the glass all things are made possible.  And on this very day.  a very decent number were visualized in the two processes, the two ways.  Dynamite.  Dynamite and red and black on top.  And there is such a strong shine and the cover was quick and if only…possible to… and likely is.   Mask, think of the mask and sometimes the possibility of.  So then maybe….  And through that a swift trip and the plastic out of the plastic which was gained by plastic and over and over and over and ah, yes this is the one and envisioning dynamite again.  Dinamita.  Of course, there is another part of him which breaks away and will desperately search for more. 

This is stronger than ever and wraps itself all around him and squeezes and bares down.  and it is lost and then so easily found again at every single turn.  this was the open invitation.  Was curiosity and exploration the very absolute beginning?  It’s possible.  But it doesn’t really matter anymore.  That beginning lasted a few seconds and the unholy obsession is a lifetime. 

s4

Multiple goodbyes.  Saying goodbye to myself and this is perhaps the best goodbye at all.  Mistaken from the beginning.  A mistake from the very beginning.  Unknown conception and then lack of wanting.  That’s okay though.  There has never been any harbored resentment.  The rhapsody in blue may never see a goodbye and there is something appropriate about that. I think.  Head goes light.  Still seen, by chance, by desire, orchestrations.  Maybe one day at night joining with the music playing.  And who else?  Writing water for however long, but that was already the departure.  Recently something much different.  So integral early on. 

The jackal who is not the jackal was better than ever.  Sheer perfection just as that type of perfection arrived from another location and immediately assumed complete control over everything. 

And then of course the familiar emptiness.  But I already spoke of that, didn’t I?  this will surely not be the last time.  all emptiness originates from me.  I create it and fill myself with it and spread it around.  Try as I might I can create nothing but emptiness.  Cannot say this was a trait passed down.  it is unique to me.  because I am something execrable.  Pulsing and writhing.  Greeted happily and I don’t understand why.  I understand everything now through the needle point.  This act of killing away is for the  absolute best.  Is there any way out of this? 

What did he see?  They all looked so tired.  No, there was another…can’t think straight.  Was there ever a moniker.  Addictive issue in the past breeding another in another.  Don’t drive but the words did not sound like those words.  And other clues?  Dressed in sacred garb and desire renewed.  Jumping around.  Ah, I see it again clearly through the neon lights, shifting figures.  Lost years, so much lost and wasted time.  all my fault.  Better not be….  Hahaha, time for laughter.  But all false.  Nothing good can ever come out of my actions and this is all one terrible web. Did not realize the relation.  Very dark on this very day.  and lovely.  No more words spoken.  We are both so weary.  No fix after a certain time.  had to apologize but of course it all amounted to nothing.  Lost and then renewed again and then lost and then renewed again and now may it all go away.  For I am something terrible and I infect everything. More laughter and remembering a pact.  This is all so blurry and illusory.  A staggering amount of time.  and maybe not it’s all gone.  Made a mess of myself and created nothing but emptiness and misery.  So many memories of absolutely nothing.   And nothing consumed him and made a mockery of him and completely controlled him; a very specific spirit moving around and pointing and rightfully laughing.  Coal. 

and what of the previously mentioned.  So cold for so long and now…maybe sensing the end.  Even less meaning.  I am an awful thing and everything is me.  fuck, I am so utterly worthless and disgusting.  But in that final moment he was only envisioning the color and the central line and imagining the sound which proves the particular maker.  And all the derisive laughter and all the scenarios and he realizes much too late that his creations are utterly meaningless and he has populated his brain and heart and spirit with empty husks and the only emotion they could ever feel toward him is rightful hate.  And through the farewells there were even desperate flailing attempts at new creations and they all surely would have gone the same way and he knows this but still attempts anyway.  While the bag of promises awaited him and its horrible contents which could never fulfill anything and which always resulted in mere spasms and silenced screams and shaking limbs.  Satisfaction was evil and only served to hollow him out even further. 

I’m fucking mincing words because I can’t put anything right anymore.  Time and again I tell myself….   But this is for real this time.  he says this all while drowning in excess.  Cut off that part of yourself.  There is no one more hypocritical than I. 

Tiny bit of solace…in the storm of last summer. Even this is illusory and fleeting. 

Can’t think straight anymore.  This is all going away.  Last kinds words of the jackal who is not the jackal;; the absolute kindest and what a fine final note to that particular song.  Everything is so underserved. 

And that tiny bit of solace is rooted in lies just like everything else; nurtured in sin.  There is tenderness anymore.  And that is richly appropriate. 

Any positive perception is completely false.  My insides are rotten. 

That other…was it from years back?  I think so and then at one point the background became the foreground.  Truly…perfection for all manner of the fantasy.  And the strongest degree of strangulation must go to that one.  the last time of being good to see again.

Now I see how far reaching this is.  Because we all come back to it.  All of us but his is the hand which guided everything.  He was too fucking stupid to realize it.  He has been so fucking stupid and worthless his entire wasted and useless life though at least thankfully he now has the good grace and common sense to disappear from everyone.  There is only ugliness here and it is no one’s fault but his. Wish for the best now for you and I deserve the worst. 

How strange that I am unable to find the words to sum it all up.  And yet is this not the most indicative of what it truly all meant?  I am far too repulsive.  There was the one singular obligatory moment and it was so undeserved.  He wished he could properly apologize but that is quite impossible.  The only logical thing to simply exit stage left.  Snuff it all out, starting with yourself.  Erase me from all your memories and this will be a much better place.  All those awful forced meaningless moment.  Please forgive me.  he can make this the last time.  for real. 

s3

Later on, the same digression.  Returned to the same physical location on the second, sort of a repeat of an action committed the day before but actually started the day before that.  A curious find and once more brought back to so so long ago.  I believe this time there was a long white box – the type which may hold an assortment of sports cards – but this can’t be right, can it?  And where did that go? 

Ah, I see now.  Was I even mentioning this last time?  of course right after the discovery of lines and ridges.  Everything so glorious and commanding and awful.  We cannot forget that there is nothing more awful than me. fuck I’m just so fucking awful.  I fucking hate myself so much.  Vile individual.  Gotta just eat the gun, pull the trigger and blammo instant scrambled brains all over the walls of my posh flat.  What’s happening to me?  is paranoia present at all?  I have no idea about anything.  Something is inside my head, crawling around in there, can barley think straight.  Did I mention replacement at any point.  Of course right afterward, like I said, the lines, the ridges, another reality opening up, replete with laughter and mockery.  Gingerly tied and flat and then pressure and strangulation and laughter, strangulation from the floor contact points.  So perfect.  And affection through the thin .

Everything is empty.  And everything comes from me.  that is a very unfortunate realization.  But a needed one and so very honest. 

I’m dancing in front of the opening curtains now.  It is a very freeing feeling. Though I suspect that piece of broken glass will be used on my wrists and not anything else.  That’s the reason I don’t own metal.  Too scared that I’d use it on myself.  Of course that would be the only proper thing to do. 

How odd to be using one addiction to subjugate another.  And yet how richly appropriate.  He was going crazy earlier.  What a pedestrian phrase but it’s the only one that fits.  Couldn’t think of anything else.  Around my face and arms and legs and everything was too perfect but this was the source of all the problems.  No, of course the source was me. it always comes back to me.  I am an ugly evil disgusting thing.  And everything is me. 

Jumping around in the narrative again but its all related.  Is there love in the strangest of places.  Traversing upwards.  No, think more carefully, what a stupid thing to say.  Need to get this off my chest.  Lot of bad writing tonight.  But need to say this all because it is there and so controlling. So many from so many different places.  Produce.  Self checkout.  And then please one last great one from somewhere else.  Need the strength. To murder the awful evil side. 

There is a repetition taking place.  After the departure other swooped to take the place. There was bountiful beauty.  But sentimentality is hard to break.  This is so obvious. 

But here, now. Somehow seems less profound but really is not.  But I know why it seems less profound and that is due to the relative time investment.  You see, it has been so difficult.  The acquisition of knowledge.  Early on, working.   But only once.  Nothing similar.  So sheepish at the very beginning. I can no longer recall how the initial realization even came about.,  one of my many seeds of corruption. Does it really matter how?  That is the interesting thing.  The external origins are not important, only the ugliness that comes from inside.  The external does not determine anything.  But the internal is what dictates and manifests as something vile and repulsive.  Should have blown my fucking brains out a long time ago.  No one would even really care.  All over in a month or so in terms of mourning and questioning. Should have left bits of brain and fragments of skull and much blood all over the walls of my posh flat long ago. 

Ah, but memories….  Whatever.  Was the first encounter yellow?  This has all come and gone.  Multiple identities.  Was the first encounter soft yellow. In the end everything was more beautiful than has ever been imagined.  The throaty laughter.  This was everything.  Reverse and forward. Boiling heat.  Multiple names. Again I should have asked the commerce related question.  No, I am wrong and terrible and all at once nothing makes sense due to my disruption.  I am drinking again and this is a good thing.  Always the question hung in the air. And there it shall remain until we all are rotting.

Odd thought just occurred to me wondering why there are only two of us.  And for the times when two does not suffice I have to wonder why that was set into motion.  Mayhaps it seems I am having something of a crisis.  Oh well, it doesn’t really matter.  Nothing matter. 

So many little boxes.  And boxes in boxes.  And the tentacles.  Wrapping around everything.  I could not see straight but I was not deceived.  I hate myself.

But wait, I am doing a disservice to a great service and one integral to his self destruction.  See when the heart is pumping so fast and dancing so alive with the thrill of sin.  You are putrid and vile.  So many different colors and a question regarding preference.   And then the flattery of years.  Do you know what this word means?  Wait, that doesn’t make sense right now. Is it numbers or taste or something else.  I’ve had too much booze to know.  So important and yet taken for granted.  Try to recover.  Ah, but recovery is such a self serving mechanism.  All you really mean is the benefits for you.  How predictable and disgusting.  There were tiny little boots and this was grand.  Everything was so strong and sturdy and this was how it should be and it all disappeared one day and I will likely never know why. 

s2

I’m only on the second iteration and already I’m jumping wildly ahead.  In some ways it is present day while in other it more definitely a decade or so ago and still in many many other ways it actually roughly three fourths or so of all moments that took place between then and now.  Two lovely and dissonant things crash around me.  lovely isn’t always the right word.  What did I speak of yesterday of course but a black out and everything it has influenced and controlled since it’s first revelation including last night and today and right now.  Of course there is the matter of a replacement which is the current topic of discussion (not a disappearance, something happened today, why am I so….) 

Of course those last couple items are indelibly linked.  How could they not be?  But course the context was not really discussed, was it?  No, that’s not the right word either.  Something far more schematical is necessary.  But difficult if not impossible to delve into at this time.  so the first appearance of the second item.  Impossible to trace really.  Of course now with the bare minimum of thought and exploring back through all those meaningless and desire and repugnant moments (made awful solely by me) I see now it was evening of a distinct shade of green and something happened, something brought and then brought back and then brought back again.  Yes, this is not the first but it could possibly be the only first now in existence.  Surely, countless roles afterward.  And who can say what, if anything, was spoken.  But the time invented, the thousands upon thousands of moments lived – an entirely separation existence and not even the participants realized what was happening. 

Now everything is an odd grey.  Is this similar to the time before.  Feeling nothing now except for my own endless emptiness.  Strange, so distracting initially.  Still present but not even the benefit of distraction, simply gifting the knowledge of my utter worthless as a person, my inability to function, think and feel in any meaningful way.  But some many compulsions none the less.  Many small current happy travels.  And in person on his knees, looking around.  Geometrical in his fingers but only at the beginning.  Of course the insides find their own necessary way to strike a balance.  So again, what reminds is nothing more than a reminder of failure.  Soon again his intentions will be put to the test and soon again disappointment shall be the end result.  I’m drinking again and once more reminded of the sage words which were repeated earlier in the evening; the description so poetically apt.  ah, which brings everything back.  The presence surrounding those words.  There were varying shades of blue and now I see a tenuous (very) but tempting link which connects even further to the perhaps only known beginning; that being a particular shade and the required components to achieve it.  Dark wave.  Depression and laughter. 

Emptiness again, no more power and comfort to be found.  Everything is so awful and fleeting.  I’m falling down a very very long shaft, seems endless.  Appropriate. 

But what was I speaking of?  Ah yes, thoughts of thoughts and implantations.  Of course things always result in something crucial being harbored for so long. But this is all illusory.  He believes.  There is no point in wondering and the sin lays a trap again.  But in order for him to fall into it he has to want to fall. The sin is inside of him, he creates it and then loves and nurtures.  He sins because he is evil. Everything is so black and white now.  How weak I truly am.  Read the books.  Already started. 

Reversal now, despite the happy travels, surrounding the eyes, imagined eyes.  And a familiar smile.  Give him a pat on the back.  Keep reading.  And then side by side, how often side by side.  Looking down but you cannot look down, what is the difference between the two realities he is constantly living.  And then once before so very dark and full of the needed dulling effect and numbers were diminished for a moment and there was wonderment but of course no fulfillment, fulfillment could never exist.  And it will always be impossible to know where the desire meets the truth. 

Very unhappy now but its deserved so it doesn’t really matter.  Made a joke about killing myself earlier.  No, wait, I think I only really made a joke about me dying but not necessarily by my own hand.  Can’t tell what’s relevant or not. 

Nothing is working quite right but maybe that’s something of a blessing currently.  We’ll see what comes in a very short amount of time.  perhaps the craziness will start all over again.  In fact I would say that’s a certainty. 

Of course I haven’t expanded on anything I’ve started but that is forthcoming.  And this will surely be far far from the only time there is word of the replacement.  Again, so many different roles.  Devourer and electrician. 

Occurs to me know for that same blue to appear down below and how exquisite that would be.  With a shade of clear up above.  Over and over again these.  Now with the addition of the surrounding of eyes.  And of course the still of laughter, be careful of the algorithm.  Seeing now even further ways of replacement employment involving a newer favorite configuration.  With two and what below forcing what is above, the still of laughter again, so resonant as the color and the clarity, the smile, the secrets around the eyes, secrets which may even be real.  What is the electricity surrounding everything?  What is the impulse that draws itself near.  The most recent real moment reoccurring inside again and again.  And then is diverges.  The genuine reaction followed by the imaginary.  Reaching down.  tenderness.  Admission and more sweet laughter and for the moment everything is lovely but that moment is not real and everything is in fact a sin and I am awful again and full of hatred only for myself. 

s1

It is possible no likely that much of these linked writings will only make sense to one person.  actually, I don’t know if that’s entirely accurate.  Oh but who really gives a flying fuck.  That does not matter at all.  Everything is going down.  destruction set into motion so carefully neither he nor I even saw it coming.  There was at once the question regarding the very first instance.  Already things on a skewed foot.  But why?  So much imperfection.  No, nothing but imperfection.  And despite the deep deep delusions there is actually no goodness present, nothing at all worth saving. 

Slice me open right beneath my belly and nothing but blood and lust will spill out.  Of course there were flying saucers over Istanbul and this had me utterly transfixed.  I am burning desire.  No, that sounds too nice.  I am evil.  I am disgusting lust.  I am repulsive desire.  Electricity runs through me while I scream and it is all so enjoyable. 

The manifesto occurred to me then as it was all coming back (in black albeit a more feminine tone) to me, and once again he found comfort and power behind a mask.  Though simply substitute two of the words for corruption and everything would be correct.  It’s silent now.  Now it’s dark. 

Even now in this very moment there is no control (all deranged).  Sweating so much.  More than ever.  What is this strange reaction?  Why has it been so forced throughout the years.  Back to that question.  Of course that beginning is not really the answer.  Something else and so recently with it’s twentieth taking place.  And now the terrible sins come in multiple languages. 

Yes, there was a black out and everything somehow spun out from there.  but what of the other, so crucial component?  What about the tactility?  Where on earth did that come from?  Of course, these things are not entirely separated.  But imagine, go back.  He recalls the first instance of witnessing what would be a life changing and life destroying revelation.  It seemed so good.  No, it was, it was good.  I could have and should have gone to the church today instead of the action I actually took.  Doubling down on sin.  Back to back, eerily similar.  His timing was impeccable.  Of course now I fully understand the damnation caused by research.  I have no control whatsoever.  But even that statement has to be lie.  I just can’t stop lying.  There, I’m back to no control again and like that I’m back to another fucking lie again.  The no control statement cannot be true because it would absolve him of all responsibility and that is a preposterous notion because it is entirely one hundred percent his own doing.  The mind is a world all its own. 

But where was he.  i.  where was i?  the premiere of course.  It had a vibe, yes?  What did he feel in those moments?  Hard to say at this present juncture.  Mayhaps the first inklings while hoisting himself over the roof.  Excuse me for a moment while I fix myself a good stiff drink.  This beer and cheap wine is not doing it. 

Drinking again now but the self loathing has not gone down one iota.  I must be developing a good yet bad tolerance.  A very wise and lovely woman sang a lyric about tequila and clouds which sums up the feeling better than I ever could

But it was all so relatable.  Was that the entry point.  Why was there not delving beneath the surface of things, under fabric?  What happened exactly?  Can he remember. Everything feels retroactive because all the imagery now is similar but was it always this way?  What was the very first impact?  A shard of now as I seek blissful suffocation.  Of course supplication would likely be the more appropriate course of action.  I am bereft of decency.  I am something ugly and useless.  How did this start?  Remembering now.  Dip.  Ing.  So early on but even that must have been much later.  No.  there was a cat.  Kat.  Pink pom pom nearly touching the ground.  Why?  What the fuck was happening?  All swirling together (love, vengeance, motor oil).    Every moment spent inside his head.  Always in his head.  Ah, the crushing mechanical arm, the swat and then the brief crush.  What transpired?  Plant toxins prior to this, many years pior.  Not understanding anything. 

Yes, there was red on top before, wasn’t there?  very early on mayhaps.  All blended now with Colombian.  But that had to be much later, still going on, deep seated early on or something, clay behind the recliner.  And before that, sitting aloft, looking down, venous.  Everything so unusual and good.  Where did the mask come from?  He, no I, bought nearly a dozen masks this very day.  but the original?  And the orchestration of capture.  Everything taking place inside his mind.  Dooming him.  Damning him.  Pleasure sending him to hell.  Yes, fully decked out, can’t forget the strip of leather.  Ah, and the rehearsed words still continue, not needing to echo. 

This hasn’t even started yet.  The one in red, she hates me.  color placement, red in the middle and a sharp strip above.  Lovely.  Truly lovely.  But not started, rekindled.  I am an awful thing, everything repeats itself.  Not even really begun the black out yet (Japanese influence, hahahaha, nearly die of laughter, it’s all related, we’ll all see, and now so many different taunts in different languages as he, he and I open our mouths to scream and—

I’m going back.  How can I eliminate anything if I go back?  The mind.  My failure.  My worthlessness. 

With great clarity and following prodigious searching (more looking really) I came to realize the freedom I ignorantly and arrogantly ascribed to myself was actually brilliant trickery and I am in fact more enslaved than anyone and it is entirely my fault.  Is he evil?  Is the recommended thesis statement is necessary perhaps this is the simplest one: I am evil.  Everything else spins out from that.  I am sad.  I am weak.  I am awful.  I am disgusting.  I am hurtful.  I am diseased. 

This is only the start of things.  how truly awful and useless I am. 

But I can’t take anything back.  And I am nothing more than a deeply repugnant and hypocritical slave. 

prelude, express love, glamorous (short, how appropriate)

I’m breaking a cardinal rule here.  or am i?  the more I learn the less I want to know.  I recently watched the Harmony Korine movie The Beach Bum and absolutely loved it.  It seemed to be a spiritual sequel to Spring Breakers and a spiritual brother to Serenity from earlier this year.  Savvy readers will no doubt recall that Serenity is likely my favorite movie of the year thus far.  I did not see The Beach Bum in theatres and that was due to my own negligence and I have to live with that for the rest of my sure to be miserable and worthless life.  I need to rewatch em both back to back.  I watched Aquaman again recently as well.  Or did i?  the more I learn the less I want to know.  I’m going to listen to some new music soon.  Horse.  He’s drinking again.  He means me. 

I recently watched the child’s play remake.  Or did i?  the more I learn the less I want to know.  I think I’m going to order an autographed copy of Bear McCreary’s score to the film.  Then I’ll listen to it.  i fell deeply in love with Aubrey Plaza as the mother in the film.  So much so I wish she were my mother.  Then I would literally and figuratively pour out my entire soul to hear and launch into her embrace and let her comfort me and I would cry and cry and cry and it would be beautiful.  She is so lovely.  I am going to watch the first season – and maybe the entire series – of Legion just to see her.  then, if all goes according to plan, I’m going to blow my brains out. 

I’m going to steal a bunch of gold and then hide out in an Italian villa.  I’m listening to music while I write this.  That autographed copy should be arriving by mail shortly!  And when it arrives I may so excited that I’ll tweet about it!  so much empty sexual expression going.  All feeling so terrible at the end of things.  of course, I think as my head goes light, how utterly proper.  Clearly trying to be steered in a more correct direction.  Which is a wonderful thing, is it not?  A necessary thing. 

Butterfly in the rainforest.  I was inhaling her and inhaling the rain forest. And everything was beautiful. You’re okay. 

How to explain.  There was initially so much uncertainty though everything had gone oh so well.  The maritime city.  Lost on the ravaged streets.  Had to go back and forth and try to figure it all out and eventually depending on the kindness of strangers.  Not exactly low men in yellow coats but at least yellow hats.  Mica was present during a long wait.  Strings while grief was being painstakingly processed and everything red on us and in back.  But blue in front and outside and so lovely and there was no need to be concerned about the tardiness.  Tee hee, how so much of the mood setting was from the familiar, first with marine themed touches which have already been mentioned and then with the entrance to the island.   Pause.  There it is.  Recognition at once and the locale was perfect.  Ah, the subsequent ambience.  Though it can be truly said I have consumed far too much meat lately.  What have you been filling your heart with?  Simple arrival all within minutes.  No trouble traversing the layers.  New outer layers for just such an occasion all carefully color coordinated.  Later on there will be blood but all happiness.  For now there is simple pleasant loss.  

A lot of nothingness is coming our way. It’s going to all be over quite soon.  Don’t let it all slip away. 

This is important and necessary.  Before everything else that is to follow.  I need to remember this blissful prelude, the only bit of good here as everything else withers and falls away because of me.  Just gotta hang on to this moment.  Pure expression of love.