s5

Ah, now I realized a bit too late I was leaving someone out; someone very very crucial.  But what to do about personification?  What is the proper pronoun to use?  For surely this has just a big a role in the things as anyone else.  And now thankfully he tossed it all into the trash.  Right next to his bleeding heart.  Hahaha how melodramatic.  How trite!  And how long will that resolve last?  Hopefully at least the span of an hour. 

Here is the difficult part though.  He cannot recall at all when this particular bit of enslavement began.  But no, that is no the proper word. Any word or phrase which takes any bit of responsibility away from him or even suggests that it was somehow out of his control needs to be banished.  Please do not raise any bullshit about differences in willpower. 

There is one memory from things did not have such sharp clarity. More calm searching would be needed to recover the actual name.  star comes to mind but that cannot be correct and is likely being confused with another monumentally important figure. Ah, so clear now though.  The word office is applicable but not because it described a place.  And things were hanging off the edge, threatening to fall at any second.  This was so crucial.  This was a time of discovery.  Innocence has never entered into this but to be able to go back and halt everything at this one moment….  And from there can you recall the initial searching?  There was so much, so frantic.  And on those rare occasions where glass was not needed….surely there was nothing greater. 

No, see, this is the fucking pathetic mistake which was and shall be made a million times over.  There are many better things.  or maybe there is only one better thing, one or two, but they are so all encompassing, so obviously superior that it only clearly illustrates what a useless and sad fuckup I am.  But there is odd mysterious power at work.  no, again not true.  Again, he is simply trying to let himself off the hook.  It must be lovely to attach mysticism to things.  hahaha, I am laughing again.  Man, I am so fucking worthless.  Fuck, I am so unbelievable fucking ugly and putrid and nothing I do has any fucking value to it because it all comes from me and anything said or done could only pure shit if it comes from me. this is crucial to recognize.  Forget mysticism you worthless fuck. Forget thinking there is nothing better.  Or course there is.  And he has experienced it.  But the foul rotten heart inside him was screaming for something else.  Screaming on repeat.  Hahaha what a bunch of useless words.  Ah yes, those initial findings, that particular one remains but there were so very many.  And then the find of the century which somehow combined everything. 

Last night laying down I was actually driving along the freeway.  It was a very cool night and I was in a convertible with someone and it felt good to have the top down.  I think they met a prostitute out by the airport.  At once I understood that process of enslavement I would like to use as a scapegoat for myself….i saw it in them….they were me…we were all exactly the same.  I looked at the scars on his abdomen and face and they are the exact same ones I have. 

Plastic bag inside another plastic bag.  Frantic when the plastic was used and it all seemed so necessary but the spirits left and that remained was my horrible rotten self. All reactions only amounted to the unshakable intrinsic evil which always has a drink and laughs but this is not a scapegoat either and now I see you will stop at nothing to try and pass this along. No, that intrinsic evil you speak of is only yourself and nothing else.  And that deranged laughter is coming from your own mouth.  You just realized it a little too late because you are so fucking unbelievable stupid.  Ah, that piece of blue inside my mouth.  Depraved and deranged.  The mechanical devices keeping the legs so rigid.  This is all the same thing.  Can’t remember when or how it started but forever afterward it was always present  sensory was the priority.  That’s not quite right but the desire to obfuscate is so strong.  Wrapped around.  Vision blurring and breathing in deep.  A thousand different things imagined but all coming back to the same source in the end.  Fuck,even that isn’t right.  Focus.  Central.  And yes, you found the constant which encompasses everything and gleefully built a towering altar to your own hateful self destruction.  I must clap for you. 

Flash forward to bright lights and looking around and snatching.  No way to obtain the genuine artifact.  Or maybe there was.  Questions popped up and out.  And then again through the glass all things are made possible.  And on this very day.  a very decent number were visualized in the two processes, the two ways.  Dynamite.  Dynamite and red and black on top.  And there is such a strong shine and the cover was quick and if only…possible to… and likely is.   Mask, think of the mask and sometimes the possibility of.  So then maybe….  And through that a swift trip and the plastic out of the plastic which was gained by plastic and over and over and over and ah, yes this is the one and envisioning dynamite again.  Dinamita.  Of course, there is another part of him which breaks away and will desperately search for more. 

This is stronger than ever and wraps itself all around him and squeezes and bares down.  and it is lost and then so easily found again at every single turn.  this was the open invitation.  Was curiosity and exploration the very absolute beginning?  It’s possible.  But it doesn’t really matter anymore.  That beginning lasted a few seconds and the unholy obsession is a lifetime. 

s4

Multiple goodbyes.  Saying goodbye to myself and this is perhaps the best goodbye at all.  Mistaken from the beginning.  A mistake from the very beginning.  Unknown conception and then lack of wanting.  That’s okay though.  There has never been any harbored resentment.  The rhapsody in blue may never see a goodbye and there is something appropriate about that. I think.  Head goes light.  Still seen, by chance, by desire, orchestrations.  Maybe one day at night joining with the music playing.  And who else?  Writing water for however long, but that was already the departure.  Recently something much different.  So integral early on. 

The jackal who is not the jackal was better than ever.  Sheer perfection just as that type of perfection arrived from another location and immediately assumed complete control over everything. 

And then of course the familiar emptiness.  But I already spoke of that, didn’t I?  this will surely not be the last time.  all emptiness originates from me.  I create it and fill myself with it and spread it around.  Try as I might I can create nothing but emptiness.  Cannot say this was a trait passed down.  it is unique to me.  because I am something execrable.  Pulsing and writhing.  Greeted happily and I don’t understand why.  I understand everything now through the needle point.  This act of killing away is for the  absolute best.  Is there any way out of this? 

What did he see?  They all looked so tired.  No, there was another…can’t think straight.  Was there ever a moniker.  Addictive issue in the past breeding another in another.  Don’t drive but the words did not sound like those words.  And other clues?  Dressed in sacred garb and desire renewed.  Jumping around.  Ah, I see it again clearly through the neon lights, shifting figures.  Lost years, so much lost and wasted time.  all my fault.  Better not be….  Hahaha, time for laughter.  But all false.  Nothing good can ever come out of my actions and this is all one terrible web. Did not realize the relation.  Very dark on this very day.  and lovely.  No more words spoken.  We are both so weary.  No fix after a certain time.  had to apologize but of course it all amounted to nothing.  Lost and then renewed again and then lost and then renewed again and now may it all go away.  For I am something terrible and I infect everything. More laughter and remembering a pact.  This is all so blurry and illusory.  A staggering amount of time.  and maybe not it’s all gone.  Made a mess of myself and created nothing but emptiness and misery.  So many memories of absolutely nothing.   And nothing consumed him and made a mockery of him and completely controlled him; a very specific spirit moving around and pointing and rightfully laughing.  Coal. 

and what of the previously mentioned.  So cold for so long and now…maybe sensing the end.  Even less meaning.  I am an awful thing and everything is me.  fuck, I am so utterly worthless and disgusting.  But in that final moment he was only envisioning the color and the central line and imagining the sound which proves the particular maker.  And all the derisive laughter and all the scenarios and he realizes much too late that his creations are utterly meaningless and he has populated his brain and heart and spirit with empty husks and the only emotion they could ever feel toward him is rightful hate.  And through the farewells there were even desperate flailing attempts at new creations and they all surely would have gone the same way and he knows this but still attempts anyway.  While the bag of promises awaited him and its horrible contents which could never fulfill anything and which always resulted in mere spasms and silenced screams and shaking limbs.  Satisfaction was evil and only served to hollow him out even further. 

I’m fucking mincing words because I can’t put anything right anymore.  Time and again I tell myself….   But this is for real this time.  he says this all while drowning in excess.  Cut off that part of yourself.  There is no one more hypocritical than I. 

Tiny bit of solace…in the storm of last summer. Even this is illusory and fleeting. 

Can’t think straight anymore.  This is all going away.  Last kinds words of the jackal who is not the jackal;; the absolute kindest and what a fine final note to that particular song.  Everything is so underserved. 

And that tiny bit of solace is rooted in lies just like everything else; nurtured in sin.  There is tenderness anymore.  And that is richly appropriate. 

Any positive perception is completely false.  My insides are rotten. 

That other…was it from years back?  I think so and then at one point the background became the foreground.  Truly…perfection for all manner of the fantasy.  And the strongest degree of strangulation must go to that one.  the last time of being good to see again.

Now I see how far reaching this is.  Because we all come back to it.  All of us but his is the hand which guided everything.  He was too fucking stupid to realize it.  He has been so fucking stupid and worthless his entire wasted and useless life though at least thankfully he now has the good grace and common sense to disappear from everyone.  There is only ugliness here and it is no one’s fault but his. Wish for the best now for you and I deserve the worst. 

How strange that I am unable to find the words to sum it all up.  And yet is this not the most indicative of what it truly all meant?  I am far too repulsive.  There was the one singular obligatory moment and it was so undeserved.  He wished he could properly apologize but that is quite impossible.  The only logical thing to simply exit stage left.  Snuff it all out, starting with yourself.  Erase me from all your memories and this will be a much better place.  All those awful forced meaningless moment.  Please forgive me.  he can make this the last time.  for real. 

s3

Later on, the same digression.  Returned to the same physical location on the second, sort of a repeat of an action committed the day before but actually started the day before that.  A curious find and once more brought back to so so long ago.  I believe this time there was a long white box – the type which may hold an assortment of sports cards – but this can’t be right, can it?  And where did that go? 

Ah, I see now.  Was I even mentioning this last time?  of course right after the discovery of lines and ridges.  Everything so glorious and commanding and awful.  We cannot forget that there is nothing more awful than me. fuck I’m just so fucking awful.  I fucking hate myself so much.  Vile individual.  Gotta just eat the gun, pull the trigger and blammo instant scrambled brains all over the walls of my posh flat.  What’s happening to me?  is paranoia present at all?  I have no idea about anything.  Something is inside my head, crawling around in there, can barley think straight.  Did I mention replacement at any point.  Of course right afterward, like I said, the lines, the ridges, another reality opening up, replete with laughter and mockery.  Gingerly tied and flat and then pressure and strangulation and laughter, strangulation from the floor contact points.  So perfect.  And affection through the thin .

Everything is empty.  And everything comes from me.  that is a very unfortunate realization.  But a needed one and so very honest. 

I’m dancing in front of the opening curtains now.  It is a very freeing feeling. Though I suspect that piece of broken glass will be used on my wrists and not anything else.  That’s the reason I don’t own metal.  Too scared that I’d use it on myself.  Of course that would be the only proper thing to do. 

How odd to be using one addiction to subjugate another.  And yet how richly appropriate.  He was going crazy earlier.  What a pedestrian phrase but it’s the only one that fits.  Couldn’t think of anything else.  Around my face and arms and legs and everything was too perfect but this was the source of all the problems.  No, of course the source was me. it always comes back to me.  I am an ugly evil disgusting thing.  And everything is me. 

Jumping around in the narrative again but its all related.  Is there love in the strangest of places.  Traversing upwards.  No, think more carefully, what a stupid thing to say.  Need to get this off my chest.  Lot of bad writing tonight.  But need to say this all because it is there and so controlling. So many from so many different places.  Produce.  Self checkout.  And then please one last great one from somewhere else.  Need the strength. To murder the awful evil side. 

There is a repetition taking place.  After the departure other swooped to take the place. There was bountiful beauty.  But sentimentality is hard to break.  This is so obvious. 

But here, now. Somehow seems less profound but really is not.  But I know why it seems less profound and that is due to the relative time investment.  You see, it has been so difficult.  The acquisition of knowledge.  Early on, working.   But only once.  Nothing similar.  So sheepish at the very beginning. I can no longer recall how the initial realization even came about.,  one of my many seeds of corruption. Does it really matter how?  That is the interesting thing.  The external origins are not important, only the ugliness that comes from inside.  The external does not determine anything.  But the internal is what dictates and manifests as something vile and repulsive.  Should have blown my fucking brains out a long time ago.  No one would even really care.  All over in a month or so in terms of mourning and questioning. Should have left bits of brain and fragments of skull and much blood all over the walls of my posh flat long ago. 

Ah, but memories….  Whatever.  Was the first encounter yellow?  This has all come and gone.  Multiple identities.  Was the first encounter soft yellow. In the end everything was more beautiful than has ever been imagined.  The throaty laughter.  This was everything.  Reverse and forward. Boiling heat.  Multiple names. Again I should have asked the commerce related question.  No, I am wrong and terrible and all at once nothing makes sense due to my disruption.  I am drinking again and this is a good thing.  Always the question hung in the air. And there it shall remain until we all are rotting.

Odd thought just occurred to me wondering why there are only two of us.  And for the times when two does not suffice I have to wonder why that was set into motion.  Mayhaps it seems I am having something of a crisis.  Oh well, it doesn’t really matter.  Nothing matter. 

So many little boxes.  And boxes in boxes.  And the tentacles.  Wrapping around everything.  I could not see straight but I was not deceived.  I hate myself.

But wait, I am doing a disservice to a great service and one integral to his self destruction.  See when the heart is pumping so fast and dancing so alive with the thrill of sin.  You are putrid and vile.  So many different colors and a question regarding preference.   And then the flattery of years.  Do you know what this word means?  Wait, that doesn’t make sense right now. Is it numbers or taste or something else.  I’ve had too much booze to know.  So important and yet taken for granted.  Try to recover.  Ah, but recovery is such a self serving mechanism.  All you really mean is the benefits for you.  How predictable and disgusting.  There were tiny little boots and this was grand.  Everything was so strong and sturdy and this was how it should be and it all disappeared one day and I will likely never know why. 

s2

I’m only on the second iteration and already I’m jumping wildly ahead.  In some ways it is present day while in other it more definitely a decade or so ago and still in many many other ways it actually roughly three fourths or so of all moments that took place between then and now.  Two lovely and dissonant things crash around me.  lovely isn’t always the right word.  What did I speak of yesterday of course but a black out and everything it has influenced and controlled since it’s first revelation including last night and today and right now.  Of course there is the matter of a replacement which is the current topic of discussion (not a disappearance, something happened today, why am I so….) 

Of course those last couple items are indelibly linked.  How could they not be?  But course the context was not really discussed, was it?  No, that’s not the right word either.  Something far more schematical is necessary.  But difficult if not impossible to delve into at this time.  so the first appearance of the second item.  Impossible to trace really.  Of course now with the bare minimum of thought and exploring back through all those meaningless and desire and repugnant moments (made awful solely by me) I see now it was evening of a distinct shade of green and something happened, something brought and then brought back and then brought back again.  Yes, this is not the first but it could possibly be the only first now in existence.  Surely, countless roles afterward.  And who can say what, if anything, was spoken.  But the time invented, the thousands upon thousands of moments lived – an entirely separation existence and not even the participants realized what was happening. 

Now everything is an odd grey.  Is this similar to the time before.  Feeling nothing now except for my own endless emptiness.  Strange, so distracting initially.  Still present but not even the benefit of distraction, simply gifting the knowledge of my utter worthless as a person, my inability to function, think and feel in any meaningful way.  But some many compulsions none the less.  Many small current happy travels.  And in person on his knees, looking around.  Geometrical in his fingers but only at the beginning.  Of course the insides find their own necessary way to strike a balance.  So again, what reminds is nothing more than a reminder of failure.  Soon again his intentions will be put to the test and soon again disappointment shall be the end result.  I’m drinking again and once more reminded of the sage words which were repeated earlier in the evening; the description so poetically apt.  ah, which brings everything back.  The presence surrounding those words.  There were varying shades of blue and now I see a tenuous (very) but tempting link which connects even further to the perhaps only known beginning; that being a particular shade and the required components to achieve it.  Dark wave.  Depression and laughter. 

Emptiness again, no more power and comfort to be found.  Everything is so awful and fleeting.  I’m falling down a very very long shaft, seems endless.  Appropriate. 

But what was I speaking of?  Ah yes, thoughts of thoughts and implantations.  Of course things always result in something crucial being harbored for so long. But this is all illusory.  He believes.  There is no point in wondering and the sin lays a trap again.  But in order for him to fall into it he has to want to fall. The sin is inside of him, he creates it and then loves and nurtures.  He sins because he is evil. Everything is so black and white now.  How weak I truly am.  Read the books.  Already started. 

Reversal now, despite the happy travels, surrounding the eyes, imagined eyes.  And a familiar smile.  Give him a pat on the back.  Keep reading.  And then side by side, how often side by side.  Looking down but you cannot look down, what is the difference between the two realities he is constantly living.  And then once before so very dark and full of the needed dulling effect and numbers were diminished for a moment and there was wonderment but of course no fulfillment, fulfillment could never exist.  And it will always be impossible to know where the desire meets the truth. 

Very unhappy now but its deserved so it doesn’t really matter.  Made a joke about killing myself earlier.  No, wait, I think I only really made a joke about me dying but not necessarily by my own hand.  Can’t tell what’s relevant or not. 

Nothing is working quite right but maybe that’s something of a blessing currently.  We’ll see what comes in a very short amount of time.  perhaps the craziness will start all over again.  In fact I would say that’s a certainty. 

Of course I haven’t expanded on anything I’ve started but that is forthcoming.  And this will surely be far far from the only time there is word of the replacement.  Again, so many different roles.  Devourer and electrician. 

Occurs to me know for that same blue to appear down below and how exquisite that would be.  With a shade of clear up above.  Over and over again these.  Now with the addition of the surrounding of eyes.  And of course the still of laughter, be careful of the algorithm.  Seeing now even further ways of replacement employment involving a newer favorite configuration.  With two and what below forcing what is above, the still of laughter again, so resonant as the color and the clarity, the smile, the secrets around the eyes, secrets which may even be real.  What is the electricity surrounding everything?  What is the impulse that draws itself near.  The most recent real moment reoccurring inside again and again.  And then is diverges.  The genuine reaction followed by the imaginary.  Reaching down.  tenderness.  Admission and more sweet laughter and for the moment everything is lovely but that moment is not real and everything is in fact a sin and I am awful again and full of hatred only for myself. 

s1

It is possible no likely that much of these linked writings will only make sense to one person.  actually, I don’t know if that’s entirely accurate.  Oh but who really gives a flying fuck.  That does not matter at all.  Everything is going down.  destruction set into motion so carefully neither he nor I even saw it coming.  There was at once the question regarding the very first instance.  Already things on a skewed foot.  But why?  So much imperfection.  No, nothing but imperfection.  And despite the deep deep delusions there is actually no goodness present, nothing at all worth saving. 

Slice me open right beneath my belly and nothing but blood and lust will spill out.  Of course there were flying saucers over Istanbul and this had me utterly transfixed.  I am burning desire.  No, that sounds too nice.  I am evil.  I am disgusting lust.  I am repulsive desire.  Electricity runs through me while I scream and it is all so enjoyable. 

The manifesto occurred to me then as it was all coming back (in black albeit a more feminine tone) to me, and once again he found comfort and power behind a mask.  Though simply substitute two of the words for corruption and everything would be correct.  It’s silent now.  Now it’s dark. 

Even now in this very moment there is no control (all deranged).  Sweating so much.  More than ever.  What is this strange reaction?  Why has it been so forced throughout the years.  Back to that question.  Of course that beginning is not really the answer.  Something else and so recently with it’s twentieth taking place.  And now the terrible sins come in multiple languages. 

Yes, there was a black out and everything somehow spun out from there.  but what of the other, so crucial component?  What about the tactility?  Where on earth did that come from?  Of course, these things are not entirely separated.  But imagine, go back.  He recalls the first instance of witnessing what would be a life changing and life destroying revelation.  It seemed so good.  No, it was, it was good.  I could have and should have gone to the church today instead of the action I actually took.  Doubling down on sin.  Back to back, eerily similar.  His timing was impeccable.  Of course now I fully understand the damnation caused by research.  I have no control whatsoever.  But even that statement has to be lie.  I just can’t stop lying.  There, I’m back to no control again and like that I’m back to another fucking lie again.  The no control statement cannot be true because it would absolve him of all responsibility and that is a preposterous notion because it is entirely one hundred percent his own doing.  The mind is a world all its own. 

But where was he.  i.  where was i?  the premiere of course.  It had a vibe, yes?  What did he feel in those moments?  Hard to say at this present juncture.  Mayhaps the first inklings while hoisting himself over the roof.  Excuse me for a moment while I fix myself a good stiff drink.  This beer and cheap wine is not doing it. 

Drinking again now but the self loathing has not gone down one iota.  I must be developing a good yet bad tolerance.  A very wise and lovely woman sang a lyric about tequila and clouds which sums up the feeling better than I ever could

But it was all so relatable.  Was that the entry point.  Why was there not delving beneath the surface of things, under fabric?  What happened exactly?  Can he remember. Everything feels retroactive because all the imagery now is similar but was it always this way?  What was the very first impact?  A shard of now as I seek blissful suffocation.  Of course supplication would likely be the more appropriate course of action.  I am bereft of decency.  I am something ugly and useless.  How did this start?  Remembering now.  Dip.  Ing.  So early on but even that must have been much later.  No.  there was a cat.  Kat.  Pink pom pom nearly touching the ground.  Why?  What the fuck was happening?  All swirling together (love, vengeance, motor oil).    Every moment spent inside his head.  Always in his head.  Ah, the crushing mechanical arm, the swat and then the brief crush.  What transpired?  Plant toxins prior to this, many years pior.  Not understanding anything. 

Yes, there was red on top before, wasn’t there?  very early on mayhaps.  All blended now with Colombian.  But that had to be much later, still going on, deep seated early on or something, clay behind the recliner.  And before that, sitting aloft, looking down, venous.  Everything so unusual and good.  Where did the mask come from?  He, no I, bought nearly a dozen masks this very day.  but the original?  And the orchestration of capture.  Everything taking place inside his mind.  Dooming him.  Damning him.  Pleasure sending him to hell.  Yes, fully decked out, can’t forget the strip of leather.  Ah, and the rehearsed words still continue, not needing to echo. 

This hasn’t even started yet.  The one in red, she hates me.  color placement, red in the middle and a sharp strip above.  Lovely.  Truly lovely.  But not started, rekindled.  I am an awful thing, everything repeats itself.  Not even really begun the black out yet (Japanese influence, hahahaha, nearly die of laughter, it’s all related, we’ll all see, and now so many different taunts in different languages as he, he and I open our mouths to scream and—

I’m going back.  How can I eliminate anything if I go back?  The mind.  My failure.  My worthlessness. 

With great clarity and following prodigious searching (more looking really) I came to realize the freedom I ignorantly and arrogantly ascribed to myself was actually brilliant trickery and I am in fact more enslaved than anyone and it is entirely my fault.  Is he evil?  Is the recommended thesis statement is necessary perhaps this is the simplest one: I am evil.  Everything else spins out from that.  I am sad.  I am weak.  I am awful.  I am disgusting.  I am hurtful.  I am diseased. 

This is only the start of things.  how truly awful and useless I am. 

But I can’t take anything back.  And I am nothing more than a deeply repugnant and hypocritical slave. 

prelude, express love, glamorous (short, how appropriate)

I’m breaking a cardinal rule here.  or am i?  the more I learn the less I want to know.  I recently watched the Harmony Korine movie The Beach Bum and absolutely loved it.  It seemed to be a spiritual sequel to Spring Breakers and a spiritual brother to Serenity from earlier this year.  Savvy readers will no doubt recall that Serenity is likely my favorite movie of the year thus far.  I did not see The Beach Bum in theatres and that was due to my own negligence and I have to live with that for the rest of my sure to be miserable and worthless life.  I need to rewatch em both back to back.  I watched Aquaman again recently as well.  Or did i?  the more I learn the less I want to know.  I’m going to listen to some new music soon.  Horse.  He’s drinking again.  He means me. 

I recently watched the child’s play remake.  Or did i?  the more I learn the less I want to know.  I think I’m going to order an autographed copy of Bear McCreary’s score to the film.  Then I’ll listen to it.  i fell deeply in love with Aubrey Plaza as the mother in the film.  So much so I wish she were my mother.  Then I would literally and figuratively pour out my entire soul to hear and launch into her embrace and let her comfort me and I would cry and cry and cry and it would be beautiful.  She is so lovely.  I am going to watch the first season – and maybe the entire series – of Legion just to see her.  then, if all goes according to plan, I’m going to blow my brains out. 

I’m going to steal a bunch of gold and then hide out in an Italian villa.  I’m listening to music while I write this.  That autographed copy should be arriving by mail shortly!  And when it arrives I may so excited that I’ll tweet about it!  so much empty sexual expression going.  All feeling so terrible at the end of things.  of course, I think as my head goes light, how utterly proper.  Clearly trying to be steered in a more correct direction.  Which is a wonderful thing, is it not?  A necessary thing. 

Butterfly in the rainforest.  I was inhaling her and inhaling the rain forest. And everything was beautiful. You’re okay. 

How to explain.  There was initially so much uncertainty though everything had gone oh so well.  The maritime city.  Lost on the ravaged streets.  Had to go back and forth and try to figure it all out and eventually depending on the kindness of strangers.  Not exactly low men in yellow coats but at least yellow hats.  Mica was present during a long wait.  Strings while grief was being painstakingly processed and everything red on us and in back.  But blue in front and outside and so lovely and there was no need to be concerned about the tardiness.  Tee hee, how so much of the mood setting was from the familiar, first with marine themed touches which have already been mentioned and then with the entrance to the island.   Pause.  There it is.  Recognition at once and the locale was perfect.  Ah, the subsequent ambience.  Though it can be truly said I have consumed far too much meat lately.  What have you been filling your heart with?  Simple arrival all within minutes.  No trouble traversing the layers.  New outer layers for just such an occasion all carefully color coordinated.  Later on there will be blood but all happiness.  For now there is simple pleasant loss.  

A lot of nothingness is coming our way. It’s going to all be over quite soon.  Don’t let it all slip away. 

This is important and necessary.  Before everything else that is to follow.  I need to remember this blissful prelude, the only bit of good here as everything else withers and falls away because of me.  Just gotta hang on to this moment.  Pure expression of love. 

crocodiles

I should have been a corn baron.  Of course multiple visages behind layers of latex.  Grubby pages have and had me.  he’s going to the store soon to buy physical copies of pornography; is it nostalgia or is it luck?  I ate corn on the cob recently with black coffee; this was my lunch.  Sin begets sin.  Sky.  Heaven.  Both of those things abbreviated.  All to the tune of wearing someone else’s scalp.  Jobbers were running through my mind as I journeyed through the secret life of plants.  I reserved a hotel room recently.  I listened to some movie scores recently.  Suites.  Of course there is an application for both those topics, eh?  Suites for the sweet.  How fascinating.  It all reminded me a bit of a cherry bomb really.  Ahead or behind the time?  chagrined to know that the standards have not been met down that path where secrets travel.  But is it superior to current iterations?  I was going to hose a viewing for the day of birth which is generally not a day really worth celebrating. 

With horror, I realized I forgot the construction but then seconds later I felt relief upon remembering I am actually a dog.  Not sure if I will take a trip into the funhouse but actually that is not true and I’m pretty sure I will.  I went to a bookstore by water the other day.  extraterrestrials and eating disorders.  Of course the golden study of magic will likely works its way into things very soon.  What are the dangers inherent in these texts?  Maybe not the aforementioned text.  Of course, those forbidden books, the text which has never had any conclusive findings.  Everyone these days is talking about the whistleblowers and I’m pondering the waves gravity make.  The sphere we’re looking at which creates gravity and then light and radio waves bend around the craft and as I look up I can no longer see anything.  My neck hurts.  Waiting for the mentioning of bodies.  Back to back Italian creators and a man of indeterminate accent.  Eerie.  Hopefully I will be ABEL.  I see now the importance of Keel’s texts but I am so reluctant to truly delve deep.  I drank too much coffee earlier.  Of course the other night I took lsd and danced the night away and found large blocks ambient color to really be harkening back to a needle point (understanding now the significance of researched and piercing) opera and some pink socks and something very strange and frightening in the corner there of my place.  Probably was the kindest but the brisk helped. 

The messengers of deception  now with decades behind us.  The cross cutting of radio shows.  Have we ever considered the possibilities of mass deception behind the deception.  Not mandela but maybe this could be related and there is always the dulce myth coming back onto things.  underground or from above?  And the reaction of dolphins.  My mind can scarcely comprehend.  Implications that we are being deceived.  No, beyond that.  Move beyond that.  But my feeble alcohol soaked mind cannot compute.  Does not compute.  Don’t not compute.  It’s saying that the connections are to an even larger more all encompassing phenomenon and maybe the speculation was wrong all this time and these forms in and of themselves are mere illusory…no, that’s not quite right.  Not illusory.  They are…masks, yes.  I think i start to understand now.  It’s like a Chinese box.  That’s not you.  Jacques is there again and I have not fully grasped the significance of the cults.  Ancient texts.  Secret texts.  Before very careful about what you read and who you listen to.  A man in a tan trench coat walked across the room of the broadcasting demonstration and in front of the learners.  The room smelled like pine sol.  He swore as he walked and was drenched due to lack of umbrella.  I met a lovely reporter there whose name I cannot recall but maybe with time I will.  Stairwells and then everything was behind the glass.  I did good for once. 

Interdimensional hypothesis in the morning.  What your eyes see can be bad for your health.  She had a nourish appearance and I was befuddled.  The secrets we keep damage things in ways we are not aware of.  No, I mean to say they damage things in ways we chose to ignore.  What is the eighth tower?  These treatises on magic; I believe soon Moore will be releasing on.  I saw several orange volumes with strange symbols and they were terrifying and now I cannot stop looking over my shoulder.  I am not sure how those genealogies could have been derived and fear that further investigation may prove devastating to more than just my mind.  And still there is a number of letters which remain undecipherable. 

The white goddess.  Where did this come from?  What are these influences which have been immortalized?  Objects appear and then disappear.  Different shapes.  Nine different shapes were remembered.  We’re sailing somewhere.  They said they saw that man floating.  Horror.  They themselves were whisked away.  Underground tunnels but then…far above everything else.  The place was messy.  Dreams by the mother and children, being taken from the home, mother hiding in the closet and the children are taken, children crying for the mother and they are taken.  Then at different times different experiences, by the car, other places, horrible feeling of dread preceding.  What is there behind the scenes?  Secret school.  Has this all been some sort of terrible preparation?  Long trips to the continent.  The awful knowledge will takes it’s toll.  The contact which allegedly took place seems to be a sure path to eternal damnation.  Scrying.  Does this all go back to the morning of. 

In lighter news Shania twain has been wearing hosiery (often fishnet pantyhose) in a slew of recent interviews and for that I am eternally grateful. 

While writing all this crap I was largely listening to Mike Patton’s excellent score for the movie 1922.  While stuck in traffic the other day I was largely listening to Vangelis’s excellent score for the movie 1492: Conquest of Paradise. 

undiscovered in ch, new phi insp, miss jackal not jackal, everything weakening

And suddenly Tiffany is using fishnets again and she has made me the happiest man alive. 

I’d forgotten how much I love the song Word on a Wing by David Bowie from his NAME album Station to Station.  Odd that I could have forgotten since I absolutely love that album.  I dunno, I’m just stupid I guess.  But that song is immensely important to me.  there was las vegas first and then California.  Former friends.  No bitterness.  I’m listening to Tyler the Creator’s new album.  I hear it’s a breakup album.  Need to analyze.  If I obtain a physical copy I want it to have a pink cover.  And such is the nature of wisdom.  But getting back to that first thing I would later relate the sordid tale via microphone to a group of devoted listeners.  Where did it all end up.  Hopelessness.  So much money left behind.  I did spend wisely.  But I suppose it all makes sense.  I just started reading Thomas Harris’s new novel.  Or did i?  the more I learn the less I want to know.  The end has come and gone.  I’ve been listening to the new Madonna album lately.  Full review to follow shortly in an upcoming post.  I love the recent iterations with the uniquely feminine restorative power and then trains and clocks and small dire dangers.  Labyrinthine inspirations have me. 

Judy.  Breaking glass in my room again.  I see it now for the sign it was.  So many pieces everywhere and now it makes whey it felt a few days before.   Even more shaved down.  that phrase always interesting.  Haha, of course, how right, another grand who realizes we haven’t advanced any farther.  Is someone looking to break down my door?  Say it’s not true.  Lion goddess again in purple and then teal.  Of course, these were blocks, right?  Blocks of sound, constructed and the men on the battle field and maybe it all relates to the 120 days of Sodom and perhaps barry is present yes this seems appropriate.  Must wait so long for this language.  humor in the dark.  I see it now.  The brass layers on the interval and what became of the barracuda iteration?  Forever inspiration.  I understand no I don’t but glass traps will always have me.  right from the beginning when I was naked and then doing all those pushups and then fighting the guards and then rubbing butter all over my body.  Of course, I see now how the electrician works at the motel.  How often I’ve been drilling.  We haven’t gone any further than this.  So true.  My name is pena (not quite spelled right). Read the books.  That slicked back.  Incomplete.  I’m going to show you how weak you are.  the very first time driving through the boiling summer and tilting and not understanding but knowing I would or I wouldn’t even need to as I entered the free.  At least I know how to whistle.  I hope you’re both having a drink together. 

I’m watching the movie 1492: Conquest of Paradise.  Or am i?  the more I learn the less I want to know. I find Angela Molina as Beatriz Enriquez de Arana to be utterly enchanting.  I don’t I would have left her had I been Gerard/Chris’s situation.  Apropos of nothing, the more philosophical side of things has been liberating.  I was driving last night.  I quite like the new Gloria Trevi album I’m listening to right now.  Lots o’ highlights, lots of propulsion and rough loveliness.  Mayhaps I’ll go and see her live again.  Man, the melodies and vocals are seriously on point.  I’m going to get stupid and needlessly hyperbolic and say it may be from top to bottom her overall best vocal output!  I’m on the fence on the production however. I’ll need at least 57 days to make up my stupid mind.  Sacred geometry keeps getting flung right in my face.  I did not realize the amphibious connection between Stephen King’s The Lawnmower Man and my favorite Peter Gabriel album but in retrospect it’s all so obvious.  So beautifully obvious.  Something of the end of an era for me today and a rather unmemorable ending it was.  Oh well.  Two of the best will always remain.  “just like the rest of you.”  Mica Levi’s scores for the two movies she’s scored are so damn fucking good they make me want to eat a big bowl of sugary cereal!  I was extremely excited to learn that William Friedkin’s fascinating film Cruising is finally getting a deluxe blu ray release!  I’ve already preordered!  When it arrives I will watch it!  Then I’ll watch it again!  I will need to invest more fully in imagination or something.  What am I talking about?  Removing the collection.  Of course safety in the minded as yielded through meditations.  More scoring.  Not quite right.  Ah, that first grey note is so them.  Takes me back to my years writing for a widely circulated periodical.  He remembers the beautiful boss wearing patterned hosiery and wanting to be shrunk down and forcibly wedged between the soul of hosiery clad foot and her black leather high heel shoe.  Teal shirt.  Those truly were the days.  “Earthfuck” written in black magic marker somewhere nearby.  Yes, you see those were the days of anticipation and neck aches and deep insecurities and spring dresses from the future and obsessions taking hold at potlucks and this is simply oh so beautiful and what I see in front is grey and looks oh so similar and he would be accused of an inappropriate combination but it was creative commons; I have not seen the accompanying Vietnam war as told in 3 letters.  Yes, takes me back.  If only I knew then what I know now.  Neck hurting now.  Need to wait for something physical with the darkness and that fire bird in the center.  All forgettable but want to focus more.  Hands increasingly shutting down and whole body going crooked. 

I did not have my meditations today.  Despite the overall disappointment I’m realizing now there was some goodness.  Confused by all the score accolades.  Maybe I’m tired of the one making compositions who relates most to the last letter.  To lie with her in sweetest sin.  All the  bright red atop the chef’s head.  Oh to be eaten alive. 

mill31&32&3m3c3(maybe?)

I’m thinking of changing my name to The Banana Brothers and taking credit for something not mine.  I recently ate nine hearty bowls of Kraft Macaroni and Cheese.   Or did I?  the more I learn the less I want to know.  I was reading from two separate books last night.  One has broken glass on the cover.  One has skulls on the cover.  Apropos of nothing I was recently unable to resist the lure of Diana’s fishnet pantyhose.  Hosiery controls my actions to an alarming rate.  I like to smell books when I read them.  I need to go to the liquor store later on.  Already, I don’t like what I’m writing here.  time to return though plentiful were skipped.  I see now how this all relates to  disconnected iteration involving cigarette being smoke by a non human entity.  Years having passed I need to break out and return.  I’m still bristling, not quite sure what to think.  I suspect it will only all make sense to me once I’ve absorbed it all.  Are we disappointed the apocalypse has not yet taken place?  We have a beautiful right to be cynical.  Confrontation in the stairwell and then I made the jump across the building, abandoning all negative attitudes. Apropos of nothing I just realized I was a brick in another life. 

I’m very happy now that Steven Knight’s film Serenity starring Matthew McConaughey and Anne Hathaway is out on blu ray and I plan to set aside my entire weekend to watch it as many times as possible in a 48 hour period while drinking Jim Beam and consuming frothy bowls of Cap N’ Crunch cereal with soy milk (cause cows are for calves).  It is easily my favorite movie so far in this great year of 2019.  I drank black coffee this morning.  I guess now molding two together because they feel of the same piece.  Actually that’s not really true but I think I’m seeing a through line here.  a welcome return, actually two welcome returns and maybe I know too much.  We can only learn so much and live (I need to travel back and dance the tango; I don’t cry much).  Maybe it’ll all feel right down the line but right now I regret the change but do not place any blame on the interpreter.  There was giddy inappropriateness right there in the church but now it was not a church but actually the setting of a grand reenactment or maybe it was a church and at one point there was a stuffed dinosaur and of course because of that I am now considering a new nightmare, which will always be amongst his favorites, especially as we consider skinning cats.  I was smoking a pack of kools the other day and it felt right.  Kools and coffee.  I need to buy a suit but not the type of suit ya’ll are thinkin’ of.  I need to buy a membrane. 

He spent part of the morning buried under Brazilian bbw (a lovely 350 pounds at least) Mary’s massive and punishing ass and found it to be an exhilarating and satisfying experience.  Mary’d put on a bit of weight recently which really enhanced the experience.  She talked politics during the act and he was unable to respond.  I need to order some books soon.  Skeletal horse just arrived by snail.  I need to move things around.  I need some boxes.  I need to use some bleach.  Chemicals have me.  when I open up that club I’m gonna blast some techno and drink a lot.  Wondering if the father was a big exaggerated.  Interpreter error may be to blame in that sense.  All mute joe wants to do is fuck and hence the nurse later on.  Font is important.  I need to find out the font he’s been using and then I need to purchase white.  Helluva color, white.  Helluva thing, killing a man.  He was looking at her in a very formal location and all of a sudden he realized she looks very much like Consejo Mundial de Lucha Libre luchadora Tiffany with whom he’s been unhealthily infatuated for years which he was now and forevermore infatuated with this lovely woman and then when he noticed she was also wearing flesh colored hosiery he nearly died of ecstasy and longed for her to use his face her footrest after she arrived home from a long hard sweaty day of good honest blue collar work, really pressing down on his face with hosiery clad soles and berating him in the English and Spanish languages. 

I’m investigating matters of before and after science.  I finished reading a book today.  I drank black coffee today.  I felt angry at one point and that anger was bolstered to an irrational level due to bad choices on my part.  Temptation and sin of the cheetah print variation.  There was a lot of paperwork to fill out.  Handshakes are very civil and appropriate.  I need to continue along with a thousand year narrative.  Very much on the nose there.  I watched a movie two nights ago that I loved.  Red and black arrived by snail.  I had so much and now I forgot it all.  Homicide by apple.  Distress.  We all have to be careful when in the lethal world of milkmen.  I can’t remember if I’ve talked about cereal already.  Immediate feelings of emptiness much deserved.  Nice to break things up with…I don’t know…free form something or another.  I’m drinking alcohol from a dirty glass.  There was a sturdy woman in pantyhose and black heels earlier and I found her to be utterly enchanting. 

Ah now, I remember where I was.  Not really.  But back to back.  Winners. All in different directions. But I am very involved. Maybe I’ll eat a sandwich tomorrow.  Maybe I’ll slit my wrist.  Won’t really make much of a difference.  Oh yeah, I forgot that I planned to drink in excess tomorrow but I should still be able to work that in or I could always switch it to multiple other days.  Or something.  What the hell am I even talking about anymore?