couldn't cut the mustard, salon and crap and i uh

 

Blue hair at the dive bar last night.  Mark walks up and offers to buy a shooter.  Flashbacks to the factory but I was never at the factory.  In another life I was doing blow at a disco club and looking on with resentment at a gorgeous women in a slinky red dress and her boyfriend.  I was at some seedy club later on full of self loathing, true in any life.  Good though, already had a small pitcher of beer.  Should have gone the pill route.  Pills are so easy.  Pills and booze.  I’m good for now.  Nice smile.  Someone else with a great ass celebrating.  Terrific ass.  Not like blue though.  And now, we are on the eve of the release of John Schneider’s To Die For.  The trailer is everything to me.  Do I dare pay for the pre-order?  Would my money be better spent on To Die For or Moment of Contact?  He was looking for a little bit of salvation last night.  No, not true.  Always obfuscating. Man I feel like crapola due to all the booze and zzzquil.  Almost ralphed last night but I stayed classy.  Classy like a fox watching that new Dahmer miniseries.  As a society we love exploitation.  Or do we?  The more I learn the less I want to know.  Nothing else remains beside the encounter.  Helpful  thread later on so I can properly understand why I’m shit.  I ate a decent amount of meat yesterday.  Who is the blonde Hispanic actress in John Schneider’s To Die For?  I need more coffee and I need to take a crap.  Time to break out my copy of Nights Into Dreams for the  Sega Saturn including that special analog controller.  Only then will I be properly prepared to watch John Schneider’s To Die For.  I cruised into working blasting a Human League album and nursing a scratchy throat and zzzquil hangover.  They were encrusted in the earth!  Encrusted is one of my favorite words.  Beautiful Brazilian babe in Leotard and leggings, reverse head scissoring a companera and letting several big ones rip right in her face.  So glorious.  I just totally fucking lost it.  Want to eat a pizza with a lot of fucking olives.  I ate a couple egg rolls yesterday and some soup.  Or did i?!  The more I learn the less I want to know.  It was during those early hours at a hotel where I began to receive communications from outside intelligences.  I like when the words magic is made plural.  Snorkel!  I’m drinking some carbonated water while I peck out this garbage.  Need to invest once more in soft machine.  If only I were a true junky.  True sailing is dead.  But all I’m really doing is counting down the remaining minutes in my worthless life until Schneider’s To Die For is up on Vimeo.  Maybe I’ll eat boneless chicken wings later on.  But then again maybe I won’t.  who really gives a flying fuck?!  I was stabbing some prosthetic bricks shortly after yelling this.  That’s right, then there a gorgeous Latina in an alleged asmr video rubbing her hosiery clad feet all over the microphone and I lost it.  I just really utterly fucking lost it!  i was revising some management agreements and eating soup and wondering how my life had taken such a dark turn.  Gotta get me outta here!  HA HA I’M UNDERGROUND!!!  Beautiful internet psychologist did not allow any space for MY answer which is just that I would feel sweet relief that I was about to be removed from this earthly equation.  Why am I always so fucking marginalized?!  Love feels awful.  I don’t like love.  Now her credentials are in question!!!  My wig is slipping as I rant and rave about several conspiracy theories.  Maybe I should just go home and put on a funny hat, do whatever it is that idiots do!  That voice again, lovely.  Schneider is saving cinema from itself.  If only it had Durance in hot pants like in the good ol’ days.  If only I weren’t such a worthless fucking loser.  Fuck, finally!!! Breen.  I’d forgotten.  “my God, I’d forgotten.”  Always loved Neill’s delivery of that line in the great B movie JPIII.  I love Neill.  And I love JPIII.  Or do i?!  the more I learn the less I want to know.  I need to get in touch with a garage door company.  Is there anything more noble in life than a sturdy garage door?  Need to read more underground comics.  Need to get deeper into the self loathing.  I just ate soup regurgitated from the mouth of a homeless man.  Now I’m eating licorice.  I’m still drinking carbonated water.  A meeting just left me a little corpse inside.  Always bullshitting around.  You are literally insane.  I keep checking my emails but it’s all bullshit.  Maybe I should look up some plus size lingerie hauls to make me feel better.  Or maybe I should pack extra chunky Jif deep into the crack of my ass.  God I need to brush my teeth.  Looking forward to ellis’s new book in the new year.  I’ll probably read during an eleven day bender.  I was feeling very.  There is no system more full proof than a dry erase board.  I was feeling sad last night so I drove to a local dive bar and drank in excess and then I came home and did the same while watching a comfort film cause I’m pathetic and needed one.  Then I drank zzzquil and passed out on the floor.  And such is the nature of wisdom!  Just counting down the days until I get a vacation.  Though not the type of vacation you may be thinking of tee hee.  If only I could return to that shang ri la.  Out in the desert.  I could never make the drive again.  I don’t have the BALLS.  Just like that arrangement for the backyard that caused so much consternation.  He didn’t have the BALLS!  

going in for the handshake (security is the

 

Watched a third of the shooting andy Warhol thing and at some point prior I also watched part of an episode of the Dahmer thing.  In between I was deep in fantasy about a tall Brazilian plus size beauty putting me into some reverse headscissors and suffocating me while laughing and berating me in her native tongue.  Ideally she’d be wearing some black or lace red panties.  Apropos of nothing, seeing that live footage of rock n roll with me was something else!  Don’t want zack back or really most of that garbage.  I like books that literally have a pulpy feel to them.  Up my ass.  Still waiting on a bid from someone for some fucking thing.  There’s a broken down van outside someone wants to buy.  I might have a piece of sausage for lunch.  I didn’t drink very much last night, just a few glasses of wine.  Miss the hard stuff.  Someone sent me a free book in the mail and I forgot to say thank you.  I’m the asshole.  Mazzy has me.  I plan to drink a lot in the midnight hour very soon.  At some point we all agreed that the pointless life is the best life.  Good to lose our passion for everything.  Then at some point a massive Brazilian BBW was crushing my face with her powerful and voluminous quaking ass and when she let up and allowed me to breath she demanded tender kisses on those jiggling ass cheeks.  Need to listen to nico again.  Need to find somewhere to submit some fucking thing.  Would like to reread from hell at some point.  and rewatch rob zombie’s Halloween 2.  No idea if I love it or not.  It’s all illusory. I think I loved ends though.  Best of the new trilogy by far.  Jamie pointless again.  There’s a little paperback book to the left of me with yellowed pages.  Just how I like my pages.  I also like whiskey on the rocks.  The toxics have me.  All decked out in their playboy bunny outfits.  How I could love for them to rub their delicious hosiery clad asses right on my face while laughing and berating me.  How I would love for them to lay me down and use my dumb ugly face as their personal footrest, 3 pairs of glorious and aromatic hosiery clad feet all on my face, hosiery clad feet after a great long hard match, them deserving the rest and accolades.  “you fink.”  I’m drinking water now.  Amazing how little happens on most days.  We all just staying upright out of habit.  Got some crumb comin’ my way.  Need to call a garage door company.  Durance still my favorite.  Bleeding all over.  Petra last night.  I’m writing to Jeffers now.  Need to reread lispector.  Night porter too.  No, got that wrong.  Not porter you dumb fuck.  Wood!  Didn’t understand shit.  Luckily I just went to the kitchen and got a mug of black coffee.  Some weird doctor or something.  Something tawdry going on.  Talked to Johnny Mixed Nuts for a while.  Someone thanking me for being a friend while getting some apples.  Just a lot of bullshit.  Then at some point I was watching a woman in lace panties sit down on a cake she’d baked and frosted.  This would have already wildly turned me on but hearing her reaction, how much she was turned on by the act of sitting on that freshly baked cake just turned me on even more!  And from there so many glorious moments of lovely big fat assed women in lace or silk panties sitting on all manner of food from loaves of bread to pizza to barbecue chicken!  All so fantastic!  Queen three tonight, eh?  I’m receiving helpful recommendations on lots of used pantyhose for sale.  I been missing out on the cmll payperviews in part cause I’m a jackass but also in part because they don’t make it easy but I gotta catch what’s coming up as it should be quite good.  I love dc comics but I just can’t get excited anymore especially if we’re talking restoration.  Cave’s soundtrack for the recent controversial thing on suffering is fantastic.  Loved the thing too maybe my favorite of this current calendar.  Love the tommyknockers.  Need to reread at some point.  Maybe outside while eating fruit.  No, probably inside and surrounded by wet cardboard.  Really loved that 90’s look.  Door open and bam, 90’s look.  LOVED the previous thing too, the empty patches.  Knows what she’s working with.  Makes me wanna travel to a sun drenched place, get utterly wasted and then royally fuck my stupid life up!  Saw someone out of context the other day and realized I’d never noticed what a beautiful smile.  Maybe because always smiling.  Smile made me want to lose it though in my dreams.  So much fuckery with apples is going on right now.  How did apples come to dominate so much of my fucking pathetic worthless existence?  I spent a lot of last night shining my phone’s light on things.  Or did i?  the more I learn the less I want to know.  What’s the name of that new ufo thing?  Got it! Moment of contact!  It’s all about that incident that took place in brazil during the 90’s.  I’m pretty sure it's all horseshit but it’d probably be a fun watch anyway!  Fun in the moment and then terrifying at night when I’m unable to fall asleep even after downing several shots of whiskey, several glasses of wine and several shots of zzzquil!  Reminds me I need to buy a carton of fat free milk.  Or do I?! the more I learn the less I want to know! Oh shit! Oh hot damn!  That reminds me I need to fill in the Dario gaps cause I really loved that new iteration all about sunglasses.  Ilenia Pastorelli was fantastic.  It’ll be a regular.  I just needed some wine and pizza with pepperoni, sausage, mushrooms and olives. 

peach frames, got voice back, sounds healthy makeup, blue peaches

 

Woman with blue hair and a fat glorious denim clad ass.  I’ve been corrected on a lot of things lately.  I must be an utter dumbass.  Poisonous.  Venomous.  The toxics have me.  bunnies. Ugly fire inside.  Bleeding all over now.  fitting.  Can’t think straight.  Started with old classic, another there.  delightful.  I was drinking a mojito the other day.  who else now.  so dangerous.  So wonderful.  Total throwback.  Delightful in every way.  Nothing makes any sense.  Needless complications.  Then a burst a positive energy.  Needing that release.  Time and again I tell myself.  Need lunch.  Nursing.  Everyone is disappearing which is perfect.  Ends is my favorite of this recent.  Goddess of death was blowing kisses at me. 

From the center now, brutal forms of energy.  All from nothing.  Need to play dress up.  Italian.  Need a  massive industrial arm to the back of the neck. Pink chemicals.  If I’m ever in Mississippi.  Pancakes.  Lush.  It all amounts to so little.  Need to play dressup.  Just knock it out.  Need to hit up a bar at midnight, be a real sloppy bitch and threw a few back and then go somewhere to pass out.  Jeans.  Not even usually.  Can’t concentrate on anything.  Something about car crashes.  New jack sound. I’m motivated by nothing.  Running like a river.  Braille.  Need someone to save me.  no, not even true.  All so much simpler.  Ruminations on nothing.  Only what is surging. How meaningless it all is.  God, I need a drink.  So reductive.  Touching.  New shapes.  It’s all the same shit.  Need that drink now.  can barely get out any words on the subject because the subject is meaningless.  I’m in the back of a taxi after spending a night sucking on my own blood.  No, wait, maybe that was the day. or something . I don’t know anymore.  Books left on the floor right next to me.  digging up dinosaurs earlier.  Iguanadon!  Walking down the stairs.  Making hamburgers is the greatest life.  Invitation with crystals.  Dance or two.  Can only imagine.  Close at all is way to close.  So dangerous.  Imagining all in the form of toxic.  Bunnies. 

Previous night was all about the end of the alphabet.  Simply sitting down was incredibly intense.  Disappointed to discover the unreality of it all.  Maybe need to a buy a bottle of teremana tequila for that.  Blue dress.  Blue dress.  One another ingredient and it would all be forfeit.  No, nothing would work properly.  Do you realize.  Bad girl.  Love the sentiment.  I see what’s happened now.  it wouldn’t work.  it would never work.  I am the grand disappointment.  That’s why no one should ever get too close.  Oh, well.  Still slave to the same old shit.  Good thing I have liquor.  God, I desperately need it.  All dressed up.  Reaching out.  Sensing.  Just want to crawl into a hole somewhere.  Not entirely true.  I more want to crawl into a bar somewhere.  Rock is so dead.  Charli right now.  sounding just right.  All the soaring days.  Going to have a block of uninterrupted time.  need production to happen.  One last roll of the dice to make something of my worthless fucking life.  Domme senses something awry. 

Everyone talking about church and sex.  We’re all so tacky. Someone was giving me a pat on the back the other night.  So much touching lately.  What the hell is going on what the bloody hell is going on.  Need to eat some water fucking melon right about now!  my late lunch really filled my sorry ass up. 

All empty now.  moment of truth it’s all the same shit.  Need new triggers.  He can feel things moving in that direction.  Bones and flesh reforming, restitching.  Laying down with someone.  Bleeding all over.  Empty  now.  in all senses.  That’s what makes em crazy.  Crazy world going on outside though.  I’ll show up afterward for the freakshow.  Time to consume large quantities of liquor.  Spies tonight?  One last roll of the dice.  All so inconsequential.  So many random disparate dreams.  Meeting somewhere down south by the coast.  No, only failure.  Traveling to the rain. I have absolutely nothing to offer anyone.  Connections are all illusory.  Wanted on false accusations.  Sad same old triggers.  Blue all around the office, blue octopus.  Need to change my shirt.  From Andalucia.  Great new discoveries even as I grow emptier.  Just need to crawl into a hole somewhere and die.  It’s Saturday night and feels cool outside.  I’m going to stay inside.  Some lovely music.  I’m a mess.  Filthy.  Need to wash my face.  Melt.  Fade.  There is no one.  the perception is imaginary.  All imaginary.  The perception of me.  and any dreams I put out there.   meeting down south.  Mississippi.  Nurse now.  everything better.  Everything’s coming up roses.  A lovely look of concern and a sweet caress on the face.  Someone looked worried the other day, watching him cry over that lost soul wailing zombie.  Tears in his own eyes.  Ain’t if funny?  Thanks, mazzy.  Dancing, he thinks.  That is in the middle of the night.  The last thing before it all comes crashing down.  so sweet.  But, of course, never to be.  Nothing that comes from him is good.  Oh well, time to pop the cork.  And tomorrow is another meaningless day.  oh well.  For now at least there is the singing of the bells.  When that happens the commute is only a minute long and the air is crisp and it is night and there is the perfect dive.  Where everything is so gloriously fake!  That’s why their here?  one dollar.  Life is so fucking sad.  It is if you view it from that perspective.  Don’t infect people, sir! 

I did eat some good tacos the other day.  so much calmer now.  should have gotten it over with a long time ago.  Need to read about lunch again.  Just give up.  Time to give up.  You are nothing.  I really the forest green mug i drank from earlier.  It held black coffee. 

any fun since last (seating chart already arranged, sitting backwards)?

 

Been thinking Christine lately.  Thirty six.  I forgot the right number.  Easy enough to find.  Dennis hopper in the American friend.  Sleepy now.  Liquor and melatonin last night.  Saddest one at the bar.  Which is fine. All have our part to play.  Stardom is the only thing that makes me happy anymore.  And sleep.  I love sleep but always over too soon.  Comforting the idea that this all ends some day.  Maybe just returning to nothing.  That would be fantastic.  Diamanda again. Few things make sense.  It’s all so banal.  Kim recently has been making a lot of sense.  Something caustic and ugly.  Wonder at that moment how loud will be the sound.  How much pain will there be.  It’s too late to feel anything.  Would it hurt to shoot yourself in the head?  Man, I need some coffee.  Incompletion frightens me.  After certain thresholds this is it, this is all that remains. How sad.  Not talking to anyone feels so good.  All disappointments.  Myself included of course.  All these days just kind of melt into one another.  Mina has me.  Waiting on confirmation from the most…star….  Old habits.  Some things never.  Obsessions outlives everything.  Driving on the freeway, can feel the hate in my muscles and the center of my head.  Mold.  All this imagery.  No value.  Everything I value is fake.  Money.  Good ol’ money.  Stereo melting made me laugh. Tried but gave up.  Watched a movie the other day with multiple castrations.  Seeing the same people every night.  Same sad people.  Deeply sad.  Me at the center of it all.  And now I drink more black coffee and my hands are shaking and I start to cry and I wish I would never have to see or talk to anyone.  Lemon kid.  Need lemon kid again and typewriters.  

can feel it all starting again.  comfort in the fact that it is all phases.  all temporary.  always possible to eliminate.  i recall martial arts and cutting up paper and a hat!  cold night.  maybe coming up on a year ago today.  how exquisite!  how perfect! i am empty.  but this could be the way.  of course, i think as my head goes light, how utterly proper.  may need to write water again.  O.  yes, it was such a perfect way last time.  visualizing  then choppin'.  forming the new.  no, extracting what was there all along.  it worked, it gloriously worked.  no need to be an asshole about it though.  just do it and move on with your worthless life.  

already as the poison was wearing off i knew the truth.  he always knows the truth but sometimes forgets it as things go numb.  no one really cares.  that's how it should be.  need to get that through your head, dumbass!  you are absolutely nothing.  may need to do this twice overall.  but that's okay.  i have enough words.  enough water.  a cowboy hat.  thoughts of comfort.  it's all pretend, that's the key.  absolutely nothing real about it.  soft avocado.  put it in words.  all i got.  

not too dissimilar to all this digital yearning.  moment passed after i desperately needed a double whiskey at 9:23 am.  what a fool i am.  little star.  the most.  so fucking tired lately.  hell, it's not brain surgery! oh wait, yes it is!!!  and now again, relating to the freak.  Sin.  dying in sweetest sin.  scrolling through.  so lovely.  seeking.  need to remove everything.  if i could just go back, scrub it all out, starting with myself.  to die in sweetest sin.  little death.  come quick then die.  

i recall comfort in the throes of deep horror, panic.  is that there is?  big hoops.  sacred geometry.  beer on the rocks.  apologies.  fucking up.  it's all fantasy.  words and water are the key.  then i can go about being a world class asshole in peace. 

apropos of nothing, i deeply deeply hate my cunt mother.  

everything we ever valued or cared about is all one monstrous demented gag.  it's all so fucking grotesque and pathetic the things we value and prioritize.  this limited time is all going in the shitter! 

 

Aside from water and words, a chain might be helpful. Paper.  Daily paper.  Trade routes under taxation!  Is paper the answer? 

Awful.  Went to an atm last night. Highlight of my life.  I’m the asshole.  I’m always the asshole.  Of course, I think as my head goes light, how utterly proper.  Sweetheart.  I am not.  I’m a piece of shit.  Awful hug.  Hugging feels awful.  Twirl.  Nothing makes sense.  All through the goggles.  Desire.  Travel to the other town.  Obliterate our identities.  Everything is about obliterating our identities.  Need paper.  Chain.  Daily paper.  Distillation.  Came back and there was red wine waiting for me.  dancing.  Meeting someone at midnight.  Finally realize there is no one left. Tee hee hahahahaha how dramatic and stupid I am.  I feel tired all the time.  too much whiskey, wine and zzzquil.  Oh well no big deal.  Been thinking about Christine lately.  No ideal spot for my departure.  Not true.  Right there in the darkened room.  Wouldn’t want anyone else to be around though.  Stop making such a fool of yourself.  You are nothing!  You need to disappear.  If I could snuff it all out, starting with myself.  I wish all memory of my existence could be erased.  Numbers are dwindling at least.  And I know through the advent of water that this can all go away.  But it will never last without paper.  Daily.  And then after a while they will forget.  Not entirely.  But almost.  And almost is enough.  Almost would be glorious. 

Need to drink more coffee. 

Gut hurt earlier but feels okay now.  looking at everything through the blur.  Tears.  Hate myself.  Worthless life.  One last roll of the dice.  Shooting myself in the head is such a glorious idea.  Just do it, right?  No one gives a shit.  It’s all rotting away. 

Need to rewatch phantom menace soon. 

 

Hope to meet you someday.  Little bit of unreality in the midst of all the fakery.  All the poison so we can spin and hug and say bullshit.  Need to be dead.  Obliterate identity.  I mean nothing.

 

Gonna cook some meat for dinner. 

Hugging feels so awful.  Do you need a hug?

Shit

 I’m a piece of shit. Never saw it coming! Stupid me. Dumb fuck

Br

 Those r friends.        I’m the asshole!!!!!!!!! I just want to die!!!!!!!!! I’m the worthless sonofabitch!!!!! God how I fucking hate myself!!!!!

S (with hoops, before beer on the rocks), still want? you have better, throaty

 

 

my only solace of late comes Kairi.  i have such desires to simply be alone.  being alone is truly a wonderful thing.  i've been listening to a lot of pop music lately.  or have i?  the more i learn the less i want to know.  cold fish and circus and guilt.  rediscovery.  i was eating chinese noodles yesterday.  it all feels so empty.  can't depend on anyone these days.  need to pre-order some of the limited quantities of the crap i missed out on the first time around.  i am garbage.  i'm going to drink some water now.  not only did i drink water but i also ate an apple.  i've been reading good books lately.  need to go deep into the forest.  where is the meaning of things?  kairi collection is the only thing keep me sane.  and boose.  imbibing.  i'm going to watch the extended cut of dominion even though the theatrical cut was a steaming pile of crap (that still delighted me in certain ways).  need to commit to the antipersonality.  need to commit to this dixon ticonderoga no. 2 black pencil i just found within arm's reach.  i cooked up some fish yesterday.  i bought a fish spatula to assist in my culinary endeavors.  now that i have a fish spatula i feel like my life is finally getting back on track.  is the new transfer too dark?  haven't seen it.  i ate goldfish crackers recently but i kinda regret it now.  i drove all night to shit my pants.  is that alright?  i just cradled my face in my hands and said "everything is so terrible everythign is so terrible everything is so terrible everything is so terrible."  

then mia was sitting on some squash in her panties and for a blissful minutes everything was right with the world.  i'm drinking sparkling water.  

Then I ordered another bundle of used pantyhose and everything was right with the world.  Or was it?  The more I learn the less I want to know. 

Lions recently. 

Wrestle wrestle wrestle.  More improvisational in nature.  Two act structure.  Differences due to the distance of oceans.  Two act structure. 

Recalling a playlist from a few summers ago, preceded by a night run.  All these years later.  Braille.  Coffee burning my damn throat.  So many colors.  Including bronze.  Flowers over bronze.  Always denim.  Acceptance.  Playing this one nice and close.  Desire is changing inside of me.  all makes so much more sense with some kind of higher power.  Offering to buy drinks during a chance encounter at a nightclub.  Look at me, writing bullshit!  Forty.  Forty.  Forty.  Not quite yet.  Black cat by the crescent moon.  Dreamcatcher.  Limits have been reached.  It is good to impose limitations.  Too much fucking coffee.  Need to drink some wine.  Maybe hit the bar around midnight and throw back a few whiskeys. 

Religious event recently.  I’m a mess.  Sweltering heat.  Don’t know what to say anymore.  Stardom has me.  need to get a little bit of bourbon in me.  I’m fucking useless without it.  Bought a remaster of that old diamanda album recently.  Wonder if it can compare with my two favorite albums of all time” St. Anger by Metallica and Influence by Michael Chiklis.  Wonder if I have enough wine to last the night or if I’ll have to go over to the corner gas station, talk to the Lemon Kid and Johnny Lamentations.  Phillipe really knocked it out of the park with his adaptation.  Love the thunder thighs and weighty behinds.  Remembering an angel who worked at the corner gas station, always showing off those massive quaking thighs.  Glorious.  Goat is g.o.a.t.  gotta edit.  Need to make a list this week.  Lists have me. 

Didn’t sleep well.  Need to drink more and take more pills.  Here I am ,I’m naked.  Laughing at blue people.  I feel like less and less moves me.  like I’m dying inside.  Something nice about.  I’m awful to everyone. 

 

It just feels so easy, you understand?  Lingering touch.  But of course, never ever ever.  Disaster it would be.  So much better as is. 

At some point I was watcihgn a Mina match and then afterward I felt a bizarre and very strong sense of loneliness.  It was easily pushed away by alcohol.  Though honestly, loneliness is that bad at all.  There are far far worse things.  I ate some tamales earlier.  Drank too much coffee lately.  Been watching some really good depressing films lately.  Eyeball kid.  Filing reports again.  If only I was in Tangier, sweating my life away in some dingy shithole apartment with a bar right there a block away.  That would be the tits!  Need some female pop punk to make me feel better. 

Ultimate warrior and flair promos.  Masterful. Short Maggie music helping me out.  Yoko earlier.  All fucked up. 

 

And then.  Yellow long sleeves had me.  big hoops.  Dirtbag.  That is me.  dirtbag and fire.  If only a way to bottle the moment.  None of my words made any goddam sense because I had not ingested sufficient poison.  Then I was a total worthless piece of shit but the words flowed like red hot shit outta my ass. 

New paragraph now.  already contaminated things with stupidity because I hate to feel.  Smile too nice.  Noticed other time, glance, unintentional, glance away, big laugh.  So very nice.  Other night not myself, ate some meat.  Lotta meat on all sides.  Smashing.  Eliminate the adverb.  Meat.  Caring.  Big hoops. 

God I just wanna die!!!!!! Why is life so motherfucking sad!!!!!!?????

 

I already exorcised it out via notes.  Do you still want the whiskey?  Glorious. Truly lovely.  You have a better one.  so lovely.  

And me, ever the raging asshole.  Hoops and lenses.  More fun.  Gentlemen prefer.  Dirtbag.  I feel sick right now.  I know this is all false.  No, not quite real.  It’s real but false.  It’s real and false at the same time.  pointless.  Everything inside of me is awful. I’ll be able to kill it.  For those few moments though it was so beautiful. 

they were patterned which is how i recognized it was (unrelated, in the blood of and slept on the last one...)

 

Secret world again.  Braille.  River.  Running ghrough a rainstorm.  Fu;ll of desire.  Electricity.  This desire is more real.  At  least I refrained from exchanging currency plain for items of real value.  The essence of commerce and genuine growth.  Rife with symbology.  My brain frantic with caffeine and like a trickster I was in the grip of the archetypal!  The scorpion!  The snake! The dolphin!  And others I may have missed.  Just imagining the color.  What color?!  WHAT COLOR WHAT COLOR WHAT COLOR WHAT COLOR WHAT COLOR WHAT COLOR?!??!!  Texture and taste.  Drinking in it and wanting to drown in it.  Ink.  Once more.  But changes are taking place.  Things are slowly working.  A puppet was saying my name.  laying down.  wanting to be laying down. 

And then today, in hot sun, driving around like an asshat.  Wanting to be spinning.  So whimsical now and just wanting to be spinning. The important thing is to put in the work even when you feel like dogshit.  Remember toni.  Follow the xample

So cute that box that thalia unrolled online.  It’s aimed for the female fans but I think it’d be okay if a male bought it.  Or would it?  The more I learn the less I want to know.  Why do my hands hurt so fucking much?  I havnen’t had a drink all day.  I’m listening to john carpenter’s score for the recent Firestarter remake.  Or am i?  the more I learn the less I want to know.  Man, I suck!

I have to say I am greatly enjoying cerebus so far.  I know that’s controversial.  I will decide when I come to whatever is coming.  But it is excellent cartooning so far.  Or is it?!  The more I learn the less I want to know.   

 

So tired now.  brain fried.  Brain went in too many directions.  Stretched too far.  Realized there were two of me.  but they’re the same.  Two but the same.  Too many colors.  Too many images.  Wishing upon a side of beef.  Strings and then modular.  What was it yesterday?  Afternoon on beige carpet.  Encased.  And then from moving images to still photography.  Wrapped around.  Four in one.  And Josefina.  Sweet Josefina who is almost certainly lost to him.  Saw her once.  Somewhere in some secret location.  Reports now from yellow pages.  Information overload the night before.  Everything well documented.  Need to clean my room.  Living like a pig.  Need more coffee but my stomach felt like it was eating itself.  My god, all true experience is lost to me.  what does that even mean?  Sticking something inside of me.  alien encounters in the morning.  Measurements.  Aliens to Josefina.  Pain.  Read something about pain.  Can’t recall the strange travels I made to Europe and the woman with whom I spent at least part of those travels.  Hard to reconcile the idea of inherent goodness.  I’m hungry.  I’m hunched over.  Slowly killing myself.  Can I have a nice clean month?  Dying inside in all sorts of ways.  Kick.  Time and again I tell.  Numbing, everything is numbing.  Morning and everything is numbing.  And grey.  Italian criminals.  Sadistic.  The most violent and lovely.  And Josefina.  I should be burned at the stake.  Need to drink mango juice, it’s my fave.  Need to listen to jazz.  Chinese films.  Halfway there.  maybe more or less.  All been wasted.  I’m all washed up.  Steak sauce.  Can no longer do it the same way.  I’m hungry.  Fishnets have me.  need to watch more hawks. 

 

Still hungry.   Amazing how nothing has changed.  Renewed revulsion.  Exact same.  Definition of.  Exact same.  As the initial impetus.  How many years now?  doctor.  Frantic.  Black scorpion has me.  taking me back.  Glory.  Twenty one.  zodiac.  Losing badly.  Need to absorb the message of the third iteration of Europe.  Repetition.  Red currency plain.  Time and again.  Only you, Josefina, can help me this time.  If I have any hope at all.  Shame on me.  need to find solace in a bottle.  I’m dry and washed up.  Big thighs, I like really big thighs.  I feel so empty.  All down the drain.  Need soccer mommy. 

 

I had a glorious dream last night/this morning during which I was with La Morenaza del Fuego.  Her hair was positively drenched in sweat and as such I knew that she’d finished up with a great match.  Pink and blue.  We embraced.  She held me very tight.  Then I was being subdued and she was showing her clear dominance by putting her glorious sweaty pantyhose clad feet on my face.  She was letting me know in no uncertain terms that she was in charge.  After that we kissed and kissed and she was a fabulous kisser.  This dream was the only thing I’ve enjoyed from the last several days. 

 

Walking up the stairs.  So much bountiful color in front of me.  pipes.  Wrist to wrist.  Before that raising a glass.  Extra looking fine. 

Iwas listnening to Lydia lunch.  I recently ordered a comic book that features alan davis artwork.  I suck.  Everyrhing I do sucks.  I was watching a Cynthia Rothrock movie yesterday and was taken with how sexy she is. 

This recent news excites me.  she always looks fantastic in hosiery.  Doe while I write this crap.  I feel unbelievably empty.  Man, I could use a drink.  The last page of that book with the white cover really made me tear up.  Then I promptly finished a book with a beige cover and nearly had the same reaction.  I want to eat ramen soon.  Or do i?  the more I learn the less I want to know.  Yes, that was a wonderful dream. 

Realize of course that none of it is real.  An Vietnam vet was going crazy beside me.  someone lovely to the rescue.  No disrespect.  My rescuer had great thighs.  Later on a stroke across the back.  It’s good.  It’s pretty.  I know it’s not real.  Salty.  Tears me up.  And tears me up.  WE HAVE GOT TO GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE!!!

Pots

 I Don’t matter. My life doesn’t matter. I’m a worthless piece of shit. No one else is to blame. I’m awful. Awful. 

 I’m so pathetic and awful. I would miss everything but myself. Dutch. A tear. Everything. I wish I wasn’t me. I wish my mother had had someone else. I’m a piece of shit. Forgive me. 

S

 Just wanna die. Tears In eyes. Hate myself so much. Killjoys ending. Love this show so much. Became one of my all time faves. Remembering now Erica Durance Lois Lane. Still my favorite interpretation of the character. Tears. Just wanna die. I’m awful. Awful. 

Green

 Listening to how I’m feeling now as I cruise in, I’d forgotten how much I love.  I wrote about it once when I was feeling especially shitty.  Everything wet and grey.  Evocative.  I am shit.  Need to write about something else now.  Gotta get things outta my system.  My putrid system.  I’m so vile and foul.  There is nothing real about me. But that realization hurts which means there has to be something there.  Mazzy. Need.  It’s all salty.  Albini today.  Today is rough and grey.  Drinking coffee now.  Can barely keep my eyes open.  Fishnets have me.  Fishnets always have me.  Don’t eat the salmon!!!  Everything is chimey.  Chimey is the sound of love and comfort.  Even or especially in rain.  I just want a hug.  I’m not real.  I push things away.  I hate myself so much.  I’m awful.  Awful.  Tradecraft.  Spycraft.  Subterfuge.  Should have just but instead i.  

Working backwards or some fucking thing.  Closed it down.  Red plaid.  No point of comparison.  There was other plaid too.  Maybe purple.  I love purple.  I’m the constant asshole.  Everything with lovely connectivity.  I can’t relate to anything anymore.  I hate myself.  I talk and I’m not me.  I’m watching it happen.  Watching myself say things, wishing I had a personality.  Lovely across and to the side.  Babbling on about dry work.  Drink after drink.  I bought.  Real horse’s ass am i.  every night?  All these worthless comparisons.  It’s exhausting being me.  The grim weight of so much failure.  The grand accumulation of nothing.  Comforting to know there will be no heirs.  When I die, my existence, all of me, will be blissfully rubbed out.  I just wish it could go in the other direction right now, that everyone would just forget I exist.  I’m so fucking awful and useless.   I’m losing sensation.  It’s like I’m leaving something behind but I don’t know what.  I don’t know what to cling to anymore.  Because none of it really matters.  I’m not good in the group settings.  I’m all fucked up.  Time and again I tell myself.  Not me.  At a loss now.  Dust.  I think it was a rather good time.  I forgot sometimes what good times are like.  Losing me.  Emotional connections gone.  I can’t, I can’t! said mockingly.  Smoke coming from an old television set.  Going against nature.  Love the phrasing.  A lot of good phrasing.  Very intelligent.  Hyperpop.  Black fishnets.  White fishnets.  Had to eliminate.  Again.  Maybe this time though.  The genocides.  Cd roms are the way of the future.  And digital dating.  In person and physicality in general are outdated and highly overrated.  I need cleaner textures.  Cold cubes.  Glaciers of ice.  Swords.  Damn, I need a margarita.  These days it’s all about eating ass.  I ate some mozzarella sticks recently.  Then at some point I was driving around like a lunatic at 2 AM desperately searching for an open McDonald’s.  reminds of time in in the big apple when I was at a strange bar that had a big collection of vinyl records and at one point I left to buy some bananas.  I’m a big time loser.  Maybe if I ate more ass I’d actually have a measure of success in this world!  

I’m just going to point to the boar!  Weight fluctuations.  One of them apparently doesn’t realize.  It’s all just business.  That makes sense.  The elderly hugs.  So sad.  Gotta understand the clientele.  I wish I wasn’t such a worthless fuckup.  I’m reading about the suicide of a science fiction author.  Or am i?  the more I learn the less I want to know.  I’m old, washed up, outdated.  I’m old hat.  I’m obsolete.  I’m useless.  I need to just fuck off and die.  Hurdy gurdy man needs to start playing now.  Lovely smile.  Appreciates when it isn’t just about social media.  Makes sense.  Consideration.  Dude.  Sir.  I’m talking about vampires!  Werewolves!  I’m just more throwaway crap.  If only I’d eaten more ass over the course of my life! Then maybe I could’ve actually been someone!  I wish I lived in an alternate universe where I never existed.  You gotta know when to cut things off! I ruin every good thing but maybe this time I can cut things off and not ruin it like the dumb fuck i are!  Tangiers is where I need to go.  And I need to start spending all money on nicer cheap suits and better brands of whiskey.  I think I felt love in an instant.  It can be a nice feeling.  A moment of love.  Not good in groups.  Weird guy in the corner.  Maybe if I’d eaten more ass over the years I wouldn’t so constantly be the victim of ostracization.  I’m going to get a haircut tomorrow.  Or am i?  the more I learn the less I want to know.  Shitting well is the best revenge.  Hot whiskey shits this morning.  Breathing in my rich stink.  Man, I could use a drink and a nap.  I need to get myself a baseball steak! And then line the crack of my ass with extra crunchy peanut butter.  Would now be a good time to conjure up a flock of woodpeckers?! Castaneda.  London’s architecture.  This all must be nonsense.  Or is something making it real.  Sickert.  I made it all up but it happened anyway.  Psychic visions.  Worlds imagined into reality.  I’m grasping at nothing.  I was recently speaking to an animal control officer.  Is that how it starts?  I like the clickity clack sound of keyboards being typed on.  Cognitive dissonance.  And.  The desire to self traumatize.  I am filled with dread.  Everything awful.  Something is going very wrong all around us.  I have one Charles Fort book.  I exchanged currency plain for this item.  Aquarian.  Holograms.  I am nothing.  Can remember so little.  I was too drunk to be afraid so that was nice.  Are there magicians around?  If so, I hope they are wearing fishnets.  I am so false.  Keep coming back to that. Though I did feel something like love.  It’s all so fading.  It’s all so fleeting.  But it was a real conversation.  And that was very nice.  Need to epilogue it.