gar

The jackal who isn’t the jackal was everything again.  Sharp objects okay.  Just not sure about any of the fonts but I cannot and should not and will not belittle the overall sweat necessitated to put something to former trees.  Can’t remember if I said the other day but I really like that new musical iteration by the man who would be fly.  Amazing how all that build up did not amount to much except for laundry.  Been listening to a lot of results lately and boy is it giving me good results. 

Of course the sweetest of sin presenting itself again.  Made of ice in less than 24 hours but resistance may or may not win.  And then so soon again the many languages and the issue of replacement and mayhaps the jackal who isn’t the jackal all combining and then afterward of course these latest iterations with sensual voluminous darkness and that classic hunter (of course a word there needs alteration) this time in the secret location and with the most preferred stylistic leanings.  And the one right before as well. 

A dark new obsession begins to take hold.  Who woulda guessed a similar iteration of mud would be unleashed in that already so promised land?  And now double fisting is in order. 

I really enjoyed the outsider and am curious to see what hbo does with the property.  I think of myself as a playful sex kitten but this has nothing to do with what I just wrote.  Yamila, I swear.  I’m such a fool.  Always haunted by the office moment.  And then accompanied with an water logged illustration.  Need to get over it.  Need to suck it up.  But I don’t have the chops.  I can’t cut the mustard.  I’m feeling very louche today.  Feminine ice.  It all added up after a while.  Or something.  Then I made a great advancement in a single increment of twenty minutes.  I may plan to read something big at some point in my life.  I felt good for a while there but it was not my doing but that is a comforting thing or something. 

Engaging in sin again.  But there is something new on the horizon.  Mayhaps all these classic texts can be a guide to something greater.  A new way to live.  I love Tiffany’s new uniform.  I am so impure.  And then again that same person whom I mentioned in the opening salvo was present though this time everything was terrible and I realized what a terrible destructive force I am.  As my vision becomes crossed now.  They were all there though.  I still have a day to figure things out.  It can and will be done.  Or something.  Need to quit this.  Fast car is coming my way.  It’ll all mean something.  Nothing to prove. obvious now why nothing works anymore, a lovely little warning of the inner deterioration of everything good.  

There are no more lines left to cross.  The loving homoerotic occult has it.  No that’s not right at all.  I am so perverse and awful.  I am everything wrong with the world.  Forgiveness can it come.  Anger.  Be careful what you investigate.  Need to keep with the text yet I am so obviously not worthy.  I just need to sing into a painter’s light and all will make sense.  Stomach burns right now.  Delete delete but it will always be there walls closing in please let me not ruin everything in the eleventh hour.  I need to drink a whiskey now.  No that’s not right either they’ll be drinking around me and it will all pass very slowly and today this afternoon there was the joyous jackal who is not the jackal again and control was utterly lost and then this was further perverted beyond measure and I am everything wrong with the world.  Ah the rich tortured psychology at play.  These are not exaggerated forms at all.  The blue is just us on full display just me on full display electric blue. I experience beauty in the midst of sin and the only thing I could think to do was destroy it because I am I am an awful thing and everything is awful you me me you it’s all terrible.  Wonder what’s happening to the skin now.  Perhaps eruptions are destroying.  Love streams merits another looksy but there is also so much much more to delve.  Everything is half formed now except for my fully formed tainted and ugly soul.  No coincidence the reason for the deep shame.  Does this partial repentance mean anything?  Doubtful.  Maybe it can be a start though.  Need to return to the classicism of sin.  Full of scorpions.  Of course the connection is one through time and language but with beady blue and bypassing the black and white iteration of that second iteration and there was the time when everything was thrown out and then self-destruction bubbled forth in such a beautiful way again.  He knows what he needs more of and less of.  Hard to pull the trigger.  Ignore that word from earlier no not ignore but its not the gestalt it was just a reference to the not seen anger except for the alteration of certain states though I’ve never sampled these fantastic machines.  What the texts up to?  Of course a lovely little gift.  I went to a department store today.  I feel like I need to shave right now.  Can’t shake anything.  No more lines.  Now very close to my eyes.  Means nothing.  How in the face of this have i.  maybe later the starry conclusion will come.  This is distinct.  I’ve ruined everything and all for nothing.  Need to get back to patrolling asap and charging through the battery in the second iteration or something.  It was all a miracle early on.  This is tainting. Everything.  Heart awful.  Spirit dying.  Brain decaying.  Drifting and falling.  All lost all lost fucking gone and slouching toward.  Old idea was the best idea.  Getting ready thighs. 

I need to start a blog about alternate dimensions.  I believe in multiple dimensions. 

The bilocation of Mary of Agreda has me. 

really appreciate mind melding father (also maybe indulge in new thing that is old thing mean)

Spent all the time I could in the carpet.  Not sure what to think now.  About anything.  New iterations of bodily solutions.  is this the Irish at play?  Always ravishing.  Always up to the task.  This is going to get very complicated.  I need to raise the trees; something tells me I’ve been summarily rejected but I can understand.  Mayhaps I just need to take out a new one.  it can all balance out in the end.  I’m about.  Listening to Black Flag’s classic Damaged earlier.  Made me feel good.  Advancements to the water.  Starting now the process of Discovery and loving it so far.  No, loving is not the right word.  That was an exaggeration.  Don’t drop that pipe on your knee.  Busy taking out trash today.  Couldn’t sleep well last night cause of lack of drink.  Little star again.  Nothing quite works.  Desire is diminishing though I suppose that’s not a bad thing.  Just got to finish revisions.  Need to stretch out this note.  Day is coming soon. 

Of course, new sin presents itself in the form of dynamite.  It always comes back to pantyhose.  What a brilliant invention that has utterly and joyously damned my life!  Is there a day that goes by where they are not consistently at the forefront of my thoughts? 

Truly, I am a worthless individual.  I’m drinking an awful lot lately.  I love that custom made little blue guitar.  I read a book by Sara Gran the other day and loved it and now I want to read all the other books she’s written and I watched a video with her and it was just so damn inspiring.  Of course he is wondering if his emphasis is untoward.  Australian crawl now.  Such an obvious ripoff later on.  Different octave, hahaha.  He had an awful desire.  He is such a jerk.  Such a terrible person.  spent time indulging in sin today.  All the time there are new masterpieces of sin waiting to be employed.  And that old text.  Is sin the right word when it comes to consideration of said text.  Would like to aquaman soon and will.  But other films before.  Already that remake that you saw weeks ago after driving a long distance is the most impactful thing.  She’s scared for you.  We don’t know who we’re shooting at anymore.  How postmodern.  At least no slimeballs are oozing their way under my doorway. Yet.  I played bass today. 

And then just the other day a deadly new obsession was taking hold.  Ice cold beer afterward.  So cold and uncaring and that is the great things of all, yes?  Using electricity in such a confident way only to be gloriously cut down.  icy.  Seen before long ago always unpleasant but it could all work out.  Hard to breathe and feels so sexy.  Begging for mercy and it feels so sexy. 

Listening to Knopfler’s new album lately.  Really like the tunes.  If I saw the man in a bar I’d buy him a drink, chuckle and say “great tunes, Mark but go a little lighter on the production next time.  just a little lighter!  Let those songs breathe a little more for pete’s sake!” 

With a night at Warsaw I make a theatre.  I’m afraid of being seen in the cosmic sense.  I owe everyone an apology.  But especially.  If I were to see I would immediately proffer.  Back down I am inside.  When I’m at night.  By body bruised. 

Of course I wouldn’t have even realized.  But then later it became clear.  The opposite sides.  But does she see?  I’m not sure but I think.  My only solace these days comes from the drink.  Is the mystics sinful? Everything is. 

I watched NewYork, New York last night.  What a film.  Bobmart at the finest.  Is everyone a fucking idiot these days?  The more I learn the less I want to k now.  Are there ten commandments of love?  I need to go and feed the pigeons now.  Almost done with that trek year.  Need to finish.  But starting something else soon. 

Of course now I realize I need the obsessive disease.  I can’t function without it.  Nothing fucking works without it.  How fucking sad on my part.  I suppose it’s good to finally realize it thought.  I’m only worth a damn as things are being destroyed.  That doesn’t even. I’m only fucking worth anything as I’m fucking it all up. 

Need to get that liza pet shop album and then listen to it over and over again while still hating myself.  I drank today and yesterday and I’m betting I’ll drink tomorrow.  I know the best movie I’ve seen this year so far.  I’ve read some good books lately.  I loved that book by sara gran that I read and it haunted and scared me and I woke up scared one night because of it and then I watched a little video of her and it was very inspiring thank you very much. 

There, done and done.  Soon my earholes will be feasting.  I didn’t realize I’d already missed the initial trip to rome.  That’s not right of course,  the translating on my part is all wrong but I get the idea.  I thought a great deal about hosiery again today.  My neck hurts right now. Nothing really works anymore.  You know, I love the teal orange hopelessness of it all.  I love how nothing quite adds. 

Good grief, all terrible abounds right now.  Something or another…oh yes, I remember now.  Sara was lovely.  that fixture of the noble elephant.  Need to see more no I mean listen more but of course the plastic broke got a good sticker though.  The dynamite was back again, two for one as it were and it was exceptional, same as the glory in this case with our beautiful rendition.  Laughter like cackling.  Sexy cackling and I was helpless to do anything else.  I’m going to go somewhere tomorrow and do something.  I read heroes in crisis number three today.  Then I finished reading a book.  then I took off  a shirt and put it back on again.  Can’t forget sweatshirt in two. 

san(nothing yet, icy one soon maybe be great, miss all i nothing

Smoke is drifting over my apple pie right now.  And that’s just the ending.  Knife to my gut.  Accidental prose is taking place thanks to a boy genius (one word).  I heard a nightmare. 

Confusion strikes me hard I suppose.  Moments have me.  I was listening to Joe Lally’s first solo album the other day.  I love that album. 

I see the fragile preciousness in things now.  Nothing happened.  Could something have happened.  There was complete emptiness.  Only a desire to inflict pain.  Something rotted and foul.  Blood should be coming from his mouth.  Spilling out in great waves. 

I was waxing poetic while walking backwards into the building.  I need to get myself a good leather jacket.  I need to get myself a good dominating Brazilian BBW.  Once both those things are taken care I may consider my life an unqualified success.  The little star was returned to me again.  How lovely.  And the now pink and black lethal flower as well.  It’s a shame I was never able to organize a session. 

All so minor.  Nothing compared to what others have suffered.  Yet you took away the wax premiere of the black dog running at night.  You took away the joy of being inside the carpet.  I fear this is only the first act but please let it not be true. 

I frequently imagine that one day I will wake up to my body is entirely comprised of crab meat.  Then I will proceed to eat my own body.  I think this would be a satisfying end to my life.  But who knows?  Only time will tell.  Time, patience, the right berries.  Maybe now I should listen to a Gilby Clarke album.  I’m listening to Monuments To An Elegy right now, arguably the Pumpkins most essential and iconic album; perfect for a newbie!  At some point I’ll also be listening to Thom Yorke’s soundtrack for Luca Guadagnino’s Suspiria remake.  I love em both.  I drove hours to see you.  Is that all right?  I was so innocent then.  Everything’s different now and I only know this coward. 

Expression of love.  In one sense you truly are it all.  I love how bad that sentence is.  All the President’s Men is a fantastic film with which I have difficulties.  What am I even talking about anymore?  I need donuts.  I think a new special journey is just over the horizon.  I saw Karol G in that Harley Quinn outfit and I promptly made a sticky mess in my rent trousers.  Can’t kick until I read all of Batman Damned.  Oh yeah, I was talking about that first issue of Green Lantern earlier at some point, right?  Great stuff.  And you know what?!  Heroes in Crisis has that decompression problem I always talk about with modern superhero comics but I’m damned intrigued so far; that second issue had some truly touching and effective moments!  Yeah, I’ve thought a great deal about Suspiria every day since watching it.  It was art!  It was pure fucking art!  I loved it!!! 

For one horrifying moment I thought I was getting my consonants confused.  But no, I was accurate.  Post F.  There exists two but seemingly no relation beyond the name.  this is all about trap (though I have often thought about glass traps this has nothing to do with that).  But now I see there are glories to be seen in both iterations. 

National guilt, eh?  Do you not see the link?  Did I see Winwood live and not realize it?  Mayfuckinbe!  The more I learn the less I want to know. 

It was deep comfort, the idea of pure domination by combination biological and mechanical cold cybernetic intelligence.  Grey then magenta and many other shades.  The Capitol Studio sessions I said aloud apropos of nothing.  But no, not nothing, something, something I need, no, not need, want.  One might say it’s an aesthetic change.  But that blue is a nice touch.  It looks like it contains good charming banter for when water and powder is hitting the glass.  Everyone knows how much I adore vanity projects but this seems far more genuine.  I just need to cut down some plastic trees first (not a call back to earlier score). 

Of course, I spent much of my day listening to Rockstar Supernova’s self titled debut album.  All these years later and they are still my favorite band of all time and that is my favorite album of all time.  I watched the movie Clockers earlier today.  I’ve seen it before.  I love that movie.  And the soundtrack. 

Baloney again.  Of course, I know what some of the next plastics will be.  I’ve it off long enough.  That light blue and the hanging silver steel.  Listening to the empyrean the other day and it felt so good.  But something else of course.  National anthem.  But yeah, many things down the pike (hopefully, such a fragile word) once the trees are raised.  I like towels.

Kill me please kill me he wants to die no please don’t kill me I was wrong I was so wrong I’m such a worthless fucking coward but no this can’t be please don’t let this be why does this disease called humanity still persist?

Somewhere, the most violent with her dark ravishing eyes also remained the most beautiful.  Deep obsession.  Of course, my total lack of self awareness was a big issue.  I owe you a very big apology.  Gosh, how horrific, a lovely wave of recognition followed by such terror.  I was and shall forever remain a complete fool.  Love em all of course.  Tiffany from the very beginning.  I need to stock up on several things.  electricity and extensions.  Where are all we?  Is Gilby Clarke the definitive rock star of the past 50 years? 

36 Chambers, love it.  Pleased to see so much rerecognition on this, it’s anniversary.  I remember now what I’ve been missing.  I was going to comment on something else but I forgot.  I’m forgotten and rightfully irrelevant.  The more sensuous side provided comfort.  The first glass always goes by so quick.  So easily broken everything.  Need maybe to start with Milton.  Is this only another danger?  Last night platinum blonde dancing to the river reinterpretation.  What an ass! 

mill9(the third one sighs...lost...and I...tango)

It’s so comforting to know that the phrase “you are nothing” sounds just as sexually charged in any language.  I am so deeply turned on when a woman tells me this.  My mouth is dry which means I need more wine.  I love to love the alien.  What a rich statement.  I don’t know anything (why do we have to live in so much pain).  There was a little error back there.  my mouth tastes like shit. That was some bad chicken.  Choking the chicken though!  That was a great time!  he longs to lie down in sweetest sin.  He’s been indulging in all the bad things.  believing the strangest things.  of course I’ve been loving the alien.  That new green iteration brought to mind the silver in such a splendid way that those old ancient texts must all be gathered.  Of course the other day so much like that little bird but not little at all so bountiful; the bird and the fish and at some other point the war time nurse tending to the wound she herself inflicted in another lifeguise.  Everything that made the difference is so humble and thin. Had the sun been utilized the obsession would not have taken hold.  I saw all the plastics in a cardboard body and I needed it but it was not meant to be.  So many bad decisions.  Ah, but the topic at hand.  The k oriented fear.  It was like slipping on a warm glove whatever the hell that means.  It was comforting in its coldness.  The small bit of warmth always present, always welcome.  Is this the fewest amount of words I have to spill. Perhaps the mind wanders; the heart never fed.  I was laying down in sweetest sin again today.  I am setting up all the horrible elements of my own destructions.  I can still make this all right, I know I can, please let it be so.  Just need to buckle down (I know what’s right in life).  It’s an effective and stranger mechanism that always works (need a plurality on the previous one there) but the stairs denouement was a bit contrived.  Still, I’m always eager to continue just I continue to reinvest in the far more successful cousin of mysterious alphabet.  A square entry point right there in the middle of the stomach and shrouded over.  Oh so wonderful has been my time spent in the carpet.  But I so desperately need to return to another font.  I can feel it right now.  Obsessions take hold everywhere and multiple muses threaten to gleefully tear him apart (or course he wouldn’t have it any other way).  It would be a great double – the cousins – but of course this current iteration (that is, the chief subject in this chronology) would have to be the proverbial opener and perhaps in that way the introductory texts – which have served well in making even further introductions to contextual and fascinating outliers – could be rendered even more poignant.  Yes, I was so steeped in sin I could scarcely see what was happening, it all went by in a blur and the sunlight and the skin being peeled off, this happened somewhere in the same space, apart but there and in the same not too distant moment, the desire and the sin, and the sinful desire and everything spinning.  The One of Ice of the widow’s peak and the strength in her arms.  Everything is so degenerate these days and I suppose I have my part to play.  New creations blossoming.  The flesh is so weak and savory. What a lovely kick to the head.  Further iterations being explored; suckling from the great source, sometimes in full technicolor and sometimes and in the ancient pages.  There’s that classic doctor and his expression of love not yet expressed and though the skin has come off and I wonder what materials would be utilized.  Boy howdy this year has gone by fast and I’ve been listening to Lana and Mac a lot and it feels quite good.  Yes, so much has been eliminated for me and I must continue on that path.  Getting back to the central thesis: he enjoyed it but this particular entry faded so fast.  But again, the desire to travel on remains so something must have been made right?  There is the jackal and there is the one who looks like the jackal and they are both the bringers of joyous destruction; again, the obsessions taking hold.  And dreams of the back breaking. Must block things out of mind.  Everything must be blocked, it can be done though must acknowledge the enslavement to the body.  Oh how grotesque.  Dark lovely eyes.  Goes back to the face hidden.  The most violent.  Right there in the corner is where everything takes place and where the deepest desire lives.  You are nothing.  Sweet words.  And now he understands the depth of that special kiss.  And somehow that all goes back to the alien love.  There is turquoise.  No yes there is yes that sounds or looks or feels right and it is all connected now through the color blue and what was heard earlier (one by the pool) and yes this was the anthem of sin that he proudly sang through so many days.  Always through the mouth of course.  This was where it all began.  Always through the mouth.  And he was doomed forever more.  But such a doom of his liking.  Tomorrow I’ll make a long drive.  Or will i?  the more I learn the less I want to know.  There will be many more iterations coming down the pike.  I’m speaking of course of the central thesis and I very much look forward to this despite the brevity of this current chapter.  But I am also speaking of that even four locale and the jackal and the little star and the most violent and so many others and the heart racing toxins and the transparency which controls everything.  He is very much looking forward to that as well just as it will surely destroy him.  She likes to undo.  A thousand punishments.  A thousand ways to torture.  A thousand ways to provoke submission.  This is obsession taking place.  Everything is going horribly wrong.  Need a rescuer but he tries to deny.  Reference beginning. 

catrabbitfishcaf

Hashtag domination is a lovely thing.  Nobody’s paying attention to a fucking thing these days. 

Man, I am loving this new remaster slash remix of the Never Let Me Down album!  Overall quite a fascinating period in his career.  From a very different artist I also really like the album Shadows Collide With People.  How many roses, I gotta go around asking that as soon as I figure out how to function as someone besides who I are.  damn, but I am really not a good looking guy!  Still, looks aren’t everything!  No, they’re the only thing!  Fuck, who fucking said that?!  It now has future and past elements from Outside though I just relate everything to Outside.  It’s funny how secrets travel.  The highway again.  I’ve been slave to flesh recently though I’ve also been drinking in excess recently!  Still, the work is going well.  It’s always the work. ah, Reeves’ involvement makes perfect sense.  It is such a beautiful feeling this gift has provided, thank You so much.  Its complete revisionism.  It’s completely adding a new context or something to something else.  It’s repositioning every odd inflection.  It’s fucking audacious and fucking brilliance and drawing out the brilliance which was always present.  It’s surgery in reverse and I may have to reconsider everything I’ve ever written and said about steaming feline intestines. 

She grabbed my head and slammed it against the door and I was deeply turned on.  I’ve been thinking a lot lately about submitting to loving authority and all the glories therein.  I spent the better part of my morning listening to Polish night music and reading about nausea.  Or did i?  the more I learn the less I want to know.  I will always lament the retiring of that Brazilian female body builder.  Will that perhaps be the biggest lament of my miserable life?  Only time will tell.  Time, patience, the right berries.  I drank a lot last night and fell asleep at some point.  I’m probably going to be sweating soon.  Speaking of that thing I mentioned before (I think it involved a Korg synthesizer laying down a beautiful bed; nothing synthesizes like a Korg) I need to pre-order something or something.  Wax and no wax.  Those numbers will run through my ears and I reflect on an utterly lush not quite classic which brings to my mind deep shades of purple and turquoise and I also think of rocks, lovely painted rocks.  Or something.  Who the fuck knows?  Ah, but now I will feast upon that gloriously ugly digital iteration and realize it was telling me to seek that empirical information from within.  Or something.  I don’t know.  It all became blue.  Consequences.  Spilled a lot of ketchup.  I see now all the spoken words I’ve ignored.  I need to blow my brains out and then be temporarily re-animated by voodoo (who do?) in order to consume said brains (in classic cuisine brains are chilled before preparation). 

I was having a philosophical discussion with a humanist and then I asked for cheese for dessert.  Then I watched a video a Brazilian female body builder torturing a guy with headscissors.  I’m going to eat a piece of fruit here fairly soon.  There are so far three sides of the Polish night music I enjoyed today.  I enjoy the concept of sides.  And don’t even get me started on walls!  Oh, I love walls.  I always love hearing about other people’s favorites.  In the comments below feel free to provide a list of your favorite albums!  I need to exchange money for conceptual clown killings soon.  My eyes need to traverse more black and white stranger oriented iterations but this time explicitly based in philosophy.  Who dares enter the dark labyrinth of the human mind?!  Tee hee, I always crack up (pisses pants!)!

You go where they take you, that is the glory; leopard on top and black on bottom and in between the sun drenched country shade.  Admonishments therein, berating.  Humiliation.  Oh the sweet suffering. 

I now I am wondering about the imaginer.  I’m on London time of course (I hope they use quartz).  What is taking so bloody long?!  Ah, but I’m used to do a different method is all (one which may involve conductors).  Don’t be so anxious.  I prefer to get my grimy hands on the previous ones.  They just feel so much more comfortable.  And to think I was in the zip code and didn’t even have the common courtesy of a home invasion?!  The famous photographer accompaniment. 

I like my ice to be waffle flavored.  Make no mistake: it is me.  the female gangster on Venus.  Of course he would not realize until much later on (if we were talking about past) the extreme sensual impact of that all-encompassing mask.  Sweet ivories offer the comfort right now.  Of course, we can all richly recall the days where she would tickle the plastics in the early morning sun.  things drowned out eventually but I take solace in the fact that it was all my own damn fault!  What a terrifying number but I won’t remember which soon enough. 

Different techniques were necessary to properly handle the nausea.  And after all the searching last night he came up empty except for bad meat and bad cream.  Of course (not)electronic Klaus was well within sight or is it grasp but the lights were all out, the streets barren.  Anthropomorphizing is not precisely what’s taking place but somewhere he was a bit too memorable and all the while he lunged to viciously kicked into those massive live wires.  Of course now he sees the true cost of the cells (not the cells) and the scope but this is all only richly the very beginning and somewhere there is a phone ringing but he dare not answer. 

You know what?!  I already brought it up but I’m going to fucking mention it again because that’s just the kind of prick I am: I fucking love the new remaster slash remix of the Never Let Me Down album! 

Of course the correct answer twice in a row is that it was an aesthetic change between a case of want and a case of need. 

one oh oh four (outside image, decade later, all the same, heart on fire)

Blood red flowers in the hair and a muse is reborn.  Such an arrogant word from my lips.  I truly am despicable.  When will I stop writing these words?  I can remember everything.  He was desperately looking for a replacement; such a hopeless fool.  And what he found was so far beyond his comprehension.  In a spring dress as true journalism arises (he would of course later learn that true sailing is dead).  And nothing else besides.  Every thought in every moment and then an encounter later on after the fact and I was so very wrong about everything.  What have I done?  He sees another life and another chance encounter he knows will never come.  Out on the patio, no, out on the deck.  Or something.  Some fucking thing.  Good grief, where is she?  But out there on a cool summer evening, glass of wine in hand.  What have I done?  Why does he still feel anything?  He takes so much for the numbness to kick in.  I am nothing.  The doctor is in.  the voice was too low, I never understood a fucking thing.  I need to have some hot tea or something.  I see it all now through a prism of joyous obligation.  Please forgive me.  I so long to kill myself.  I see this, I look back and see you and I often wish a loaded gun would materialize in front of me that I could stick in my foolish mouth and promptly blow my worthless brains.  What was this so close approximation to love he was feeling.  He should have gone out dancing that night.  I’m such a fool.  I’m such a worthless individual.  He will dedicate that song and many others to you.  Perhaps one day there will be true success on the table and then something else could be organized and that would be a blissfully dishonest and cherished moment.  Dishonesty from whom?  I don’t really know.  My feelings are my own and they are not.  I could never be deserving and that is so utterly proper (I think, as my head goes light).  My heart bleeds and my spirit sings a sad song.  There are so many likes.  He should extinguished everything a long time ago.  Let’s not beat around…I should have extinguished everything a long time ago, starting with myself.  Reading over the same words again and again and realizing I have always been and forever will be nothing.  Let him torture himself.  It is deserved and it all amounts to nothing in the end.  Spring dress.  And blood red now.  Kissed by the moon and stars.  I see the error in everything now and I was always wrong. 

Do you see them at dance now?  Do you them embracing?  The talks.  Always those were everything and now they continue about anything, about all, already hundreds of thousands of words dedicated; her appearances and pieces of all his nothing in everything that’s been written down. 

Flowers again and a desire to be embraced.  Happened once.  He is less than nothing.  To be the center of your attention.  To have you favor.  To have your love.  So hard to be so open.  Mysterious watcher.  No one knows who is on the other end of the glass.  In words he finds misery and solace.  Only in fantasy does he find love. 

I’d like to look through your things.  such a pure and natural desire.  And this case found in the midst of precious thievery.  These gorgeous memories are not my own.  He felt real love.  For once he believed he could be happy.  He attended every event.  This was all so brief.  That’s when I realized, just right now in this moment.  I want to be with you everywhere.  He laughs a bit now at the happy thief but the hearts knows it to be true.  Somewhere with music and water and words spoken in a mysterious language and a tone of such loving wonderful comfort.  Squeezed so tight and tender.  Days of abandon, days of love and devotion. 

All these soft evenings that never came true.   I feel the breath of the sunset and I know it’s a lie but such a glorious lie and there are tears in my eyes because I want it so bad.  He knows exactly what music would be playing and at least there is one dance for which she will always be present. 

I’m so fucking worthless, nothing I do matters.  It was always going to be this way.  Of course the only sane option was to leave him behind.  One mind is always somewhere else.  Ah, I see things so clearly now.  I don’t know anything.  I don’t know anything. 

Things cease to make sense and cease to matter.  I suppose that’s okay.  She never let me down.  he wonders about the physicality of it all and about the possibilities.  Absolutely nothing could ever be different but this does not stop him from wondering.  Delayed communication.  What help?  Do you remember celebrating the holiday and the desperation on raw display.  Don’t try so hard to make someone laugh. 

Zero really is my number.  Lets laugh and talk about torture.  Lets run and fall down.  she listened to his meaningless words and for a brief moment he was in her favor and that was everything.  It was all that could ever matter.  If only he’d extinguished soon after and that could be the only lingering sensation.  Or even better, if he could somehow eliminate all traces of himself, present and past and that she could not even recall even the faintest hint of his visage, voice or utterly worthless feelings and desires.  He now asks forgiveness for all those things. 

Please never settle.  He had nothing to worry about.  It was one of the only beautiful things he ever felt.  Warm embrace and warm invitation.  Everything so undeserved. 

I cackle as I realize there will absolutely never be a limit to how many words he can spill in her name. 

pre-to-g(oneohfiveoh)

Could Load be the definitive Metallica album?  Only time will tell.  Time, patience, the right berries.  Still, my passion is equal to the task.  For now, I just wait.  But what I’m waiting for has very little to do with rock music.  Or does it? The more I learn the less I want to know.  No, nothing is really true but even that statement is false.  I’m making light of something to hide the fact.  My heart swells each morning and I am so grateful. Thank You.  But yes, now just the waiting.  Maybe it’ll never happen.  But that’s okay too.  At least I’ll know.  You made it. 

I may have lost something here but I suppose I’ll never know.  Doesn’t really matter.  I need to drink some café.  Thought gang makes sense right now though it somewhat simultaneously lamentable and not lamentable that I missed out on the monkey fur.  No need to indulge in that avaricious side of myself so frequently.  Or is there?  the more I learn the less I want to know.  Still, I am looking forward in time.  didn’t realize the true origins at the time as I was walking backward into the school after she gave me a little smile.  The horrors of suburbia would haunt me forever more afterward. 

Poppies.  Of course, now I understand.  Lethal flower.  Lethal flower was the means during one of the most recent times.  There was a pink addition, no, a pink substitute and that made all the difference in the world. I’ve been indulging in all the awful parts of myself lately just as I make this lovely rediscovery.  You know, I really like that movie Out of Time with Denzel and Eva.  I never get tired of that movie.  That’s a classy little sunny noir. 

Read the books.  Sartre.  I know nothing!  Need to slick the hair back.  It took the partner to realize what the three sides meant and the slick coordination taking place in front of it.  All seeing eye.  We must be careful of what we read and what we set down on flat surfaces and turn over.  Need to invest in the hawk iteration, figure out what’s going on that micro level.  I’m going to head to the book store soon.  I’m constantly thinking about hosiery.  I recently had no choice but to delete a repeated word.  The raids are masterpieces of the arts.  The sentence links in with something else. 

And as she orally raped me with the heel of her very fashionable high heel shoe, my heart sang with joy.  Oh to lie down with sweetest sin. 

I know nothing.  You’re going to show me what I am.  And now the favorites are in play.  He has real magic. 

I see now the queen of truth.  I am traveling to these regions.  Her skin is infinity.  The rich compensation taking place.  I understand all about our damnation and the seduction inherent inside infinity.  Blood sacrifices all around the merry table. And still we dance the capricious choreography of dulcet sin. The aroma of sex hangs over us all.  And we smile and have another cup of red wine. 

I see things clearly now.  No, that’s just another terrible sentence.  I’ve run out of things.  my life was with lemon and salt.  I see an alternate path.  There’s an entirely different place…with me somewhere there.  what could have been.  Did he let things go too easily?  Did he renege on his responsibilities?  Does he need to ask for forgiveness?  Yes, that much is certain.  All these worthless individuals taking up his time.  where is the morning?  I think…is there a dream of her’s which never really came true?  I don’t want to cry anymore.  In front of the…number five on the second of Sign.  Do you remember approaching while she read from a book of prayers?  So much to say.  These memories.  They can live again.  Forever.  That was the promise.  Please let there be another chance.  The mornings at the church.  There was no understanding anywhere.  A desire never fulfilled.  Everything is so simple now.  Break away.  Make a path.  Leave and rediscover.  This was the alternate which could never work, yes?  No one knows anything.  Please be happy.  If there had been some way. 

My belly full of fresh liver and blood.  Ah, the inaugural sin.  And now these violet streams of midnight.  And I’m afraid of the light coming in through all the openings.  We are in touch with the ancient ones now.  Read the books, he said.  we’ll have to take it out to lunch.  Some shit.  I see the source of comfort amidst the terror, her hands around his face.  Don’t describe the dark eyes. 

Well, I don’t know so far but there was interruption.  Unconvincing growth of plant life.  First need the florida box and then to be pelted by gamma rays from the seventies.  Brazilian domination has me.  Good corning, I unexpectedly have to be out of crown and am in nowhere today and tomorrow.  I will be returning late tomorrow. 

My local conglomerate did not have Elvis Costello’s new album which means I’ve no choice but to order it online.  Still, my passion is equal to the task. I’ve been reading a fair amount of King and Barker lately.  Burroughs has me.  Those evil flowers on my horizon. 

Better team?  Maybe never. Marks the spot.  Still, was all appropriate in the end.  The skinned alley.  Named after but I just don’t know.  Preferred the before iteration with candles.  This one has never been good with the conclusions.  Despite all the sides of the square there was still too much speed.  I weep for my attachment.  They had the opportunity.  I can be comfortable with this.  Should be said that regardless of the period (punctuation) some of the very best was had right near the end there. 

This detachment is no good.  So many things happening in such a short amount of time.  Please give her the strength. 

I bought a couple books yesterday.  I recently drank coffee.  I’m disgusted by own existence.  The glass prison.  I’m looking forward to something tonight.  Apostle.  Need to fill in the hitching hawk iterations today.  Holofoil has me. 

No answer necessary.  Please be happy.  All with love. 

3m3c2 (though numerically probs wrong as other mentions elsewhere before and after or some fucking thing)

Andrew W.K.’s most recent album.  I was slow on the uptake as I often am but I greatly like.  I cried the other day.  it’s helpful to have a good long cry.  I’m reading The Talisman now.  I’ve never read it before.  What did I watch the other night?  I watched Hold the Dark after eating Lucky Charms cereal.  I love the cereal.  I loved the movie too.   Read a Burroughs book the other day and loved it.  I gave in to sin recently and loved it.  Even now I scatter as I am terrified of everything. 

Oh wow, I recently read Brian Azzarello and Cliff Chiang’s entire 35 (plus 2 bonuses) issue run on Wonder Woman.  It’s a truly beautiful piece of work.  And man, Chiang’s art really set it apart.  I’ve also been going through Grant Morrison’s classic Doom Patrol run.  It’s increasing my brain power.  And soon I will be able to blissfully combine a couple of those things again as volume 2 of Morrison’s Wonder Woman Earth One trilogy is released.  In terms of post Crisis stuff I would now place Azzarello’s run alongside that of George Perez and Greg Rucka.  Will Morrison’s completed run stand alongside those as well? Only time will tell.  Time, patience, the right berries.  I think I told the truth.  I try.  I don’t really know much of anything anymore.  I had to spit out a little bile to one so kind.  I don’t understand what’s happening.  Swimming in braille.  Something along those lines.  In a circle. 

Like we’ve always known each other.  Tales of ice cream and escalators; feared descending (oh don’t be so dramatic).  Little walks here and there and the desire to swim with nothing in between us.  Laughter.  A confession made out of fear as everything you (me, I) do stems from fear.  I am a coward in the truest sense of the word.  I am an awful person.  necessary and unbridled confession.  I crossed my arms like an X at an entirely unrelated function.  It felt lovely, the waiting.  Form and free.  I understand that now.  And indeed there was quite a blissful shadow for some time but all good things must come to an end.  A question mark there.  anything good in this has absolutely none of me in it.  I am human, that is definitely true.  No disrespect.  That was a complete lie.  It feels good to let go of everything but he’s run out of any inventive ways to display.  Could not possibly be in that moment, not with the rampant paranoia.  It went by so quick and ended but with the loveliest of close calls. 

I am completely tainted.  I look in the mirror and see an ugly face, how disappointing that it never changes.  I open my mouth and all my words are clumsy and meaningless. My hands are now useless.  I don’t serve.  I understand what that means.  Any good feelings given to me are sadly misguided.  At  many times during the day I found myself saying out loud things like I want to die and I wish I were dead but of course those are all merry jests because I am nothing if not a happy trickster.  I drank coffee today.  Your warmth felt awful.  Your compliments felt awful.  I hate to that look of tenderness directed toward me.  please don’t waste such beautiful emotion on little old me.  you have very much the wrong impression.  Everything is so superficial coming from yours truly.  All like astronauts.  Asking questions that it would be best not to answer though the answers would not really change anything.  Get out of your own head and realize this elaborate drama is just more nothing coming from your second rate mind and worthless spirit.  Please forgive me.  do you remember the color of my room (where I will live)?  It’s an electric shade of blue.  The flowers wilted.  I drink a glass of nothing.  We’ll never come in with the tide.  There is no meeting at the costumed ball.  I don’t know anything anymore.  Words, I can’t even.  Must disguise everything with farce, eh?  That’s so you, so worthless ugly fucking failure you.  No use in complaining though.  Hell, it’s my own damn fault.  Miss universe, eh?  Though of course I did not quite say that in the proper language.  no flattery from lips.  They only spoke the truth of the other as they denied it of myself.  I am truly awful.  Yeah, the horn deep in the braille.  Irish legends and stone mermaids have me.  or some fucking thing.  I need another drink.  Always.  He doesn’t want to kill this but…oh jeez, there he goes being so dramatic again.  What a fucking baby!  yeah yeah he doesn’t want to kill this but he must!  It’s the only right thing to do.  And once a plan is properly in place he’ll never be heard from again and everything is so melodic now and again death is found on my lips but please forgive me that’s not what I really want or I mean what he wants or something there is just so much conflict and I’m not a good person I’m an awful person and why are these emotions coming at me don’t direct anything at me, nothing makes sense anymore.  Blue jeans, hahaha.  Or something like that.  He saw black too, a window looking out on black.  And under the black?  Someone must know what I’m trying to say and I’ll probably keep fucking saying it for a good long while. 

At one point I may acquire that bumper book of magic but gosh the possibility does scare me so. 

And The Little Star returned to me.  I cried again.  I’m so worthless.  I don’t know what makes me happy anymore.  Does that really matter though?  Probably not.  Lying in sweetest sin.  Jackal.  On top and arms raised triumphantly. 

Oh, that Prince Piano & A Microphone 1983 album?  Just lovely.  It was such a necessary and intimate experience to light a few candles and just listen.  The presence right there in the room.  Lovely immortality. 

I now know that Martian Time Slip will be the very last Philip K. Dick book I read.  I’m saving it for dead last as I brazenly work my way through his entire bibliography.