a smiley face broke me (shouldn't have mentioned...)

We start off 9 hours into the future.

Pain in my neck currently.  Prick before.  All in the form of zeros and ones but somehow this notions progressively fades over time.  and of course a pretty pink rose.  How could I have possibly neglected a pretty pink rose. The burgeoning of possibly his favorite era. 

But of course now, everything is the fascination of the dual identity.  As the obsession grows ever deeper, this man more desperate, progressive disintegration of personality.  I realized too late.  No, I’m already lost, don’t know what I’m saying.  Too much cheap whiskey.  No, I reached out and then there was….  Trace it back, look through the pages.  Friendly advice first off, that’s how it started.  And then. 

Lemme go back a bit, a dangerous method utterly captivates me every time.  had to put down closer for a while and then pick it up again minutes later.  I adore the album Lodger and gleefully celebrated its birthday some blurry few days ago.  Then I watched that familiar cabaret again, drinking green at the bar.  And I heard a very familiar aria during a Ridley Scott underrated gem.  Oh, I must think back, do you think a man could become so enamored from a single encounter?  Yes, of course.  Where has everyone gone, muses flashing by.  Danielle has such a beautiful voice.  i’ve been listening to Mike Patton and Jean Claude Vannier’s Corpse Flower records  a lot recently, especially while driving.  I like the one that makes a lot of references to.  Something oddly hypnotic about it all.  Much like Up!  And the other day, birthday, colored kisses.  Feels so perfect on a Saturday night. 

Something just reminded me that I need to reread From Hell.  Symbols have so much power.  I’ve invented everything.  It’s all so illusory.  I should just jump.  Where was i?  I started the rules of attraction but actually I just finished it.  I’m intrigued by holistic investigations.  Also, by the realization that facts really have no order.  Things simply happen and we force them into some kind of meaningful construct.  It’s so desperate.  I am so desperate.  Thinking about taking that header.  It starts off with electricity and then I’m panicking and falling and choking and flying through glass and colliding with a brick wall and landing in the garbage.  And I awake some time after.  Perpetrator and rescuer.  And see, this is all about those multiple identities again.  Please, he begs for punishment and for the kindness afterward.  Different iterations but the same person.  and I’m in an abandoned cabin and a frightening man is screaming profanities at me and for the first time I truly understand why.  What the fuck is my name? 

I really do love the song stupid love.  Just discovering the complete picture now.  I’m such a detestable human being.  I went to a department store earlier today.  Or did i?  the more I learn the less I want to know.  Waterlily.  I received a heart.  It is something.  Odd unique work.  there needs to be more.  There is a place for the small things.  I wasted too much time on unimportant things when I should have been reading.  I can’t even touch the magnitude…the depth of my obsession here because it is too hard for a dumb fuckup like me to talk about. 

I did not go for my badge.  Here in the pages I am questioning.  Do I dare send my interest.  I am so foul.  The photography was increasingly frequent and I desperately searched for a stage at home.  All at once I’m remember Kylie and reassurances about breathing.  I cannot relate to anyone.  This is likely a good thing.  Of course, I think as my head goes light, how utterly proper.  After all, I am nothing if not a foul detestable fucking useless individual.  Marshmallow pies.  This all happened so quick.  Sgt. Peppers deserves all its accolades and fame, listening over coffee.  I need to buy some 90’s X-Men comics.  Or do I?  the more I learn the less I want know.  Reading venom and swamp thing recently.  And some other things.  and then I found the stage at home and it was so lovely.  To die in sweetest sin.  Reaching down.  I am inventing everything.  I need to visit the ball again, the theatre.  At every moment of the day I am on the verge of tears.  This was the same time as the pretty pink rose.  So little time has passed. 

Yes, I’m really enjoying Lady Gaga’s new album.  Feels so good right. I really like the movie New Rose Hotel.  And Death Proof!  And some other shit I watched recently! 

But back again, so little time having passed. 

I was breathing hard and shaking while words were exchanged.  Dizzy. About to pass out.  And in my diseased brain, forcibly…once off and wrapped around…..  haha a thumbs down first I nearly forgot.  “Wow.”  Lovely words later on and I failed to acknowledge.  Everything such a rush.  And I just wanted to be utterly destroyed.  Isn’t that what I always want.  Don’t I always love self destruction? 

Scott 3, fucking amazing, beautiful.  And goes great with Free by Iggy Pop, also fucking amazing and beautiful.  So thankful I can hear it. 

Not even scratching the surface.  To be 9 hours ahead.  A dual identity, much more than that, a split, persona.  And back at the theatre again.  Sugar rush.  Sweets for the sweet.  Mystical flower.  And now another name so lovely.  Who the real version?  There is no answer.  The word lovely keeps coming to mind.  Again and again.  And then no paint and the combination of this and a harshness in timbre, sets me on fire.  Fucking sets me on fire!  Delirious.  What’s happened to me?! 

Haha, and of course a holiday, so understanding through the words and I fuck everything up.  Multiple identities.  How do I reconcile anything?  I need a construct.  Every moment working out my never-ending kinks.  Throttling.  Massive mechanical arm.  Waking up.  Tending.  White nylons.  I shouldn’t have brought up Pasolini.  Funny thing about obsession: it outlasts everything.