I bought a shirt just the other day and it was dark red and
the style was very similar to a dark blue shirt I’d bought a week prior. Isn’t that bizarre? Zeroes and ones have me. Usually not a steelbook kind of dude but I had
little choice recently. Watching a
couple ferrara movies last (my life for him) while drinking too much and it was
the loveliest thing, the only thing that’s made any sense in these grey dismal
days of failure and weakness. There is
only emptiness ahead. Love how it all
starts up in that red bar and the pretty lady is sorta the entry point for
things. I love the broad ugly strokes. Need to burn chrome again. Going to have to change my classification
soon because i am just barely functioning.
Listening to Vienna. Last night a
scene of surreality. I wanted to eat
ramen but was denied that opportunity and so I ate sloppy sandwich instead. Someone dressed as Superman talking about how
he’d read the book of Isaiah. Wanted me to
read from his soiled composition notebook.
Little cans of spam. Realizing or
reinforcing that I do not find a constant run of dirty jokes to be funny or cute
or offensive. Annoying is not quite
right either. But I typically find the attached
personalities to be rather dim witted. Throaty
laughter was nice. Weird questions welcome.
God, I’m a foul individual. Despite
this, it was nice to hope for change and wish good look. Despite the off-puttingness, the end result
still sent a wave bliss through him. Breathe
it in. time to start laying off. Abandoning that snowy place in the interests
of true love. Maybe I need to buy a pair
of black jeans. Who am I kidding? I don’t have any talent. But yes, with these broad strokes I can almost
feel the technique right between my teeth.
Harkens back to American friend days, removing so much of the connective
tissue and seeing how things may/can still hold together. That is a wonderful stroke, such a mirror to
the messy fuckedupness of life. It seems
he’s been on that kick for quite some time. I would pair this one with the end
of the world thing. And then afterward
if I had that American dream thing I would promptly blow my stupid brains
out. No, I wouldn’t. because proper investigation, proper due
diligence has revealed that it is much more prudent to aim for the heart, not the
head. Need to get the lone rhino. So little makes me feel good anymore. I can only assume it’s because I don’t
deserve to feel good. Which is fine, of
course. But last night, that really worked
for me. Still, if only I’d had
ramen. It’s good when those questions
can be answered though right. When people
open their mouths they show so much. Little
illusions die inside the big one. But those
little illusions are just replaced with new ones that help form the construct
of the big one. There is no escape, solace
or remedy. Den of sin. Everything is fake here. We are buying the poison needed to push
through the burdens of our failed and useless.
God must be so incredibly disappointed in us. No, I shouldn’t speak for anyone else or
judge. I am a failure. I am useless.
Golden glove. That’s me at the golden
glove. I’ve never been cool enough to
wear the converse all stars. Or have i? the more I learn the less I want to know. No, I haven’t been. But you have.
And I love you for it. following the
travels of several just in case. So quiet
now. Being put to sleep. Careful about the risk of seizures and other
not good things. I don’t really like
food very much. Maybe I’ll buy some cold
cereal later on. And cold coffee. I’m almost sure of it. It’s so real I can almost TASTE it. I might watch a martial arts movie later
on. I loved the film(s) I watched last
night just in case it wasn’t clear (my favorite color). Hands are shaking. I’m old and useless. I don’t feel a connection with anyone. Some part of me seeks out that connection which
is odd. Ethan was right though. It’s okay to simultaneously hold two opposing
viewpoints on life. It’s okay to square
your shoulders too. Mostly, I like self
destruction. I don’t believe in anything
good inside of me. It’s all
illusory. Been doing a lot of reading in
bars lately. I love reading. I love bars.
Been reading some very good books too, deeply connecting with several
different authors whose viewpoints and style deeply speaks to me, rubs my flesh
pours sawdust in my eyes. I remember
showing a jacket for a softcover book to the “Call to…” person and that person
agreeing it was quite cute (though not necessarily transparent as the moniker would
suggest). Blue. My room.
Always crashing. It hurts to talk
about things. I am a fake person. I’m a fake nobody and a real nobody which is
absolutely fucking hilarious. I loved
the way she said “how humiliating.” Ju-jitsu! Impressive amount of victories. I can definitely see it as being akin to
therapy for some. Actually, probably for
just about all. Working something
out. There I go, galivanting around in
rubber! Need to make more time to be in
random bars and saying bullshit and making nihilistic and pithy conclusions. I want to dress well though while all that is
going on. Dressing well is the best
revenge. Now all that happy wheel
oriented stuff went from inspiring feelings of summery bliss to then soul crushing
sadness and now it’s like a motley mix of (The Right on the way) stuff but that
makes sense and just goes toward the ongoing theme of glossy illusion that I so
love and need and cherish and can’t live without. It’ll all expire and be rebuilt again.
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