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.