incomplete dull crap

Another merry day of failure is before me.  I love the bass line to atmosphere.  My construct is utterly failing me.  Hot tears in my eyes.  I don’t even know what my construct is anymore.  Italy has abandoned me.  Everywhere has.  Maybe I can find some comfort in the dulcet tones of the French language.  I should have had a second cup of coffee.  Quick, someone get me a bottle of sleeping pills that I may down them all.  I think I’m going to order a tom Clancy book on ebay and an Elizabeth hand book.  Strange how the moon keeps beckoning to me.  I wonder if that is the reason for my lack of sleep lately.  Or it could just be the weight of my innumerable personal failures causing unrest.  Hard to talk to anyone.  Hard to look at them.  So much grotesquery around me.  And me the foul rotting center of it all.  Last night bad.  No interest.  No active engagement.  Oh God, someone get me a bottle of something.  Man, I love jack kirby’s artwork.  The pages can barely contain the energy in his lines!  I’ve been reading Galilee by Clive Barker lately.  I find it to be increasingly engrossing with many quite lovely and inspirational passages.  It’s been one of my only legitimate escapes these days.  Thanks Clive.  Because all muses have left me.  I have no solace anymore.  Too many drones.  Lets all be happy about devoting our lives to things that don’t matter!  Brilliant! As long as we’re fucking though.  Pleasures of the flesh make up for everything.  I treasure rationalizations.  Tears now.  Tears again. Cradle him in your arms.  Cradle him in your arms.  There is no one to do that anymore.  I just noticed I’m wearing a blue shirt today. My head hurts over how empty everything is and over how useless I am.  I was talking to people recently and it felt awful.  I hate talking to people.  Wish everyone would just leave me the fuck alone.  I sometimes think it would be quite comforting to wear a mask all the time.  I put on a big smile though.  My voice sounds funny.  My smile feels weird today like my mouth keeps shaking.  I love the smell of fresh paint.  I love the idea of mudding walls before painting them.  I love the word mud.  I loved the hbo Watchmen show.  Great stuff.  And Trent Reznor & Atticus Ross’s score was superb.  I purchased all 3 albums.  I feel like I’m swirling black hole of negative energy.  I know that doesn’t make sense but its how I feel.  I need a Xanax.  Anyone have any pills I can pop?!  Blame it on the rain.  I’ve been watching the Picard series too, I have one episode left.  Has something gone chemically wrong with my insides?  Is that why I feel so bad?  I can’t see very well right now.  I think I’m going to eat a granola bar soon. 

I think what follows is a collection of random thoughts and/or memories:

I remember encountering a love woman last week.  Tattooed, bejeweled, black hair, colorful shirt, jeans.  Caring for the sheep.  She was devastatingly beautiful.  The encounter made me so happy but I can’t feel any of that happiness right now.  I remember every detail but it doesn’t make feel anything except bad.  There is a foul taste in my mouth too.  My face wants to constrict.  Why can’t I glean any happiness from this pleasant encounter?  I don’t even feel desire.  All good things have left me. 

I don’t like absolute editions because they are too unwieldy and uncomfortable to read but for an instant I was sorely tempted by the absolute fourth world volume 1. 

A guillotine kind of looks like an hourglass. 

I need to buy some Miracleman comic books.  I’m starting a Clive Barker book today but I actually already have (see up top). 

Ah, the eschaton.  I need to learn more, make predictions.  The super Sargasso sea.  We’re all damned.  I need to buy three old books and find that hidden knowledge.  Old books have so much hidden and valuable knowledge. 

I love the Miami Vice movie.  I’m watching part of it right now.  I think I was happy in that moment.

And for a brief span of time Coralie made me happy.  I was reminded of running to expel the sense of giddy temptation.  There was true loveliness…when?  2 years ago I think.  Cream and cranberry.  Too afraid to go down the stairs.  Ice cream and coffee.  There was meaning amidst all the banality.  Swimming at night, safety and comfort in the center of a storm. 

Thinking of this…calm comes over me for a few seconds but quickly disappears.  everything good has left me.  I went to be unusually early last night because it just doesn’t pay to be awake sometimes.  doesn’t put bread on the table. 

I ate a turkey and swiss on wheat bread sandwich yesterday.  It satisfied my hunger.  I drank water with this sandwich. 

Breaking my own rules here cause I don’t have much else to say. It’d all be repetition.  just can't write anymore, all meaningless shit anyway. Oh, the photo of Chiquibaby on Instagram this morning was cute.