design ofdidn't liek mec (avoid Siberian Q)

 Big bucks.  Of course I’m think of wearing a white suit and walking with a limp.  A wrinkled suit preferably.  Check out this chicken outfit.  What?  Chicken outfit!  Brief and brief.  Inventing the language.  Red tint in the bar.  I feel so depressed right now.  Grey clouds inside my head.  They are unusually heavy. Someone blathering on in my ear.  Everyone tells me about their lives and I don’t care.  I wish just about everyone would never talk to me. Nickel plated.  That is the one which is catching my buyer’s eye.  But I don’t dare do it.  Because one night I’d just decide to cash in my chips and then BLAM! my worthless brains stain the dry wall.  In another time I was listening to a couple women discuss a bullfrog and dry humping the drywall.  That spun out of a deep sense of disappointment.  Over and over again.  Anyone could have written those particular songs.  Been listening to that collection of Nancy Sinatra songs called Start Walkin’ recently.  Or have i?  the more I learn the less I want to know.  And some other stuff.  The Sontag book is comforting so far.  I don’t really like it when people comfort me because it feels fake and icky.  I really like Iggy Pop.  I’ve been reading Garth Ennis’s Punisher comics and I’m liking what I’m reading so far.  I feel so tired.  Ayelet is so beautiful.   I’m halfway through that miniseries of her’s and she is so lovely and SEXY.  I know what I’m craving.  Something about little cafés and bars.  To be away from everything and be able to be inside a little café in the afternoon and a little dive bar at night.  The only discussion I want is about the only things that matter which is almost nothing.  And it hit that the joel photos and the cipher and the millennium antics and what’s happening outside and industrialization are all connected and all part of the same coin but the phrase the same coin doesn’t make any sense at all here.   I might watch a horror movie later on.  It’s all my fault.  I’m such a worthless person.  Macaroni and cheese the other day.  So cheesy.  It was at the so cheesy part that I utterly lost it.  Stains for days.  Why is all meaning disappearing.  Freddy vs Jason is my favorite vs movie.  Peter hook is such an inspiration.  I forgot to bring my copy of opium confessions today.  I need to carry it with me at all times.  It’s fun to remove bad things from your life but for me to be fully successful I would have to remove myself.  Back to nickel plated again.  Maybe pearl but I think I prefer wood.  I’ve always been a wood man. I remember now the way you said the word torture.  It was so cute.  I remember a nice purple shirt.  I remember fish and chips (TEN DOLLARS FOR FISH AND CHIPS WHAT THE FUCK?!) and how they had precise geometrical shapes and I remember strange dogs and overcooked red meat and odd pasta and newspaper articles and discussions about the depiction of the native American Indian in pop culture and the Italian who wasn’t Italian and so much bullshit because I was so full of shit but this yes this is what he wanted and wants probably maybe though in reality everything will always be ruined because it always comes back to and down to him and him is me and I am a total piece of shit and all these moments are on constant playback and they flash before me over and over again and so I am constantly reminded of what a useless failure I am and only one way to annihilate these worthless thoughts and memories (worthless because everything coming from me is worthless) and we’re back to nickel plated again (pearl or wood?).  things  I like: kate bush’s music and gloria estefan’s music and thalia’s music.  And that last bat for lashes album had some things I could wrap around me.  I like Iggy’s avenue b album a lot and Danielle de niese.  And bebel’s albums have felt really good recently.  I often don’t feel as bad when I drink alcohol.  I drink a lot.  I suspect that I drink more than I should.  Rubber ass.  Diana vs.  can’t even fill this up.  Can’t even make this quota.  Cause there’s nothing to me.  I need to read Ada’s instructions, maybe that will help.  I’m a sinking ship.  My brain is a sinking ship.  Would like to learn kiss me on the bass.  Looks well within my sucky ass capabilities.  My stomach hurts right now.  Lots of times it feels like I’m experiencing everything through a pane of glass.  My stomach does hurt.  Esoteric beliefs.  Feels like no one’s really done an in depth analysis of the communion stuff.  I ate oreos the other day.  Where is all the true beauty anymore.  I don’t understand anyone.  I love being by myself.  I don’t like looking at people and I don’t like listening to this them.  Haris’s music has made me feel calm sometimes.  There is something illusory in my brain that at times approaches beautiful but again, it is illusory.  Fantasy.  That chunk of time came and went with no appreciable difference made.  Par for the course.  I can’t find any meaning anymore. True?  Just got to get it out of the system.  My eyes look tired.  There is no spark of anything left in them.  Maybe if I started playing Pengo at all hours of the day my life would make sense.  Maybe then I could be someone.  I liked that Gore movie I watched the other day.  Liked it a lot actually.  Blue.  I’ll have to show it someone and then not talk about it.  I prefer not talking these days.  I prefer nothing.  I’m going to eat a rotten apple.  I didn’t sleep well last night.  Too much haunting imagery. 

MY FAVORITE MOVIES OF 2019!

 

After months of teases and building anticipation here is my list of my favorite movies of 2019!  To be clear, I’m not saying these were the BEST movies of that great year!  They are merely MY PERSONAL FAVORITES.  I have shit taste and I’m a stupid person.  obviously I didn’t see everything that came out in 2019 but this is the list set in stone.  So even if I see 10 movies tomorrow that were released in 2019 and are all better than these 10 I would still not change this sacred list.  I started drinking around 10 am this morning, trying to quash this awful feeling.  It is the feeling of being a worthless person.  the alcohol doesn’t make me feel better necessarily but it numbs me and that’s good enough.  Sleeping also helps.  I love being asleep.  I’m probably going to make a big purchase soon.  Spending money makes me feel better in the short term. 

Before I start a few honorable mentions that remained just barely outside the top 10:  Serenity/the beach bum – I can’t separate these two flicks given their kinda similar setting and the lead actor (who’s gamely destroyed all the good will of the McConaissance but seemingly boldly as a choice!).  Serenity has one of the most audacious and ridiculous revelations and for that I give it made points!  And Beach Bum is just silly pretty crudola that I love and goes good with the other films of that director’s oeuvre.  Knives Out  - this is very entertaining and suspenseful and funny with some nice symbolism stuff.  Great time.  Also, i always try and single out my favorite show of the year and that was WATCHMEN which expanded bueatifully upon the mythology and created it’s own zany crazy intense beautiful thing. 

10. Hustlers – love the Goodfellas feel of it all!  And Lopez’s performance! And just all the life goodliness of it all!  It was just a great honest HEARTFELT film! 

9. The Forest of Love – Every Sion Sono movie is a like a large sandwich of crazy shit.  It always leaves me exhausted and in love with the artform of cinema and even more regretful that I’ve wasted my life and that I’m a worthless person . no one else is to blame, it’s my fault for being so useless this movie had Sono’s classic deranged characters and bizarre thick plot.  Love that monologue at the end.  What a damn movie!  

8.     Crawl – great lark.  And I love great lark.  And ends at just the right moment.  And has a dash of Pepper! And a cute dog! And a strong performance by the lead actress! Perfect lark!  I can put this on any time, even when I just want to die (which is almost always)! 

7.     John Wick Chapter 3: Parabellum– the John Wick series is the current gold standard for Stateside action flicks (along with the Mission Impossible movies).  They are symphonic spectacles that captivate me!  and the immersive mythology is icing on the cake.    

          6.     Joker – certainly the most controversial of the mainstream movies released last year! I remember going opening night and seeing police officers in all the nooks and crannies of the theatre. I’ve lost my ability to write.  Criticisms are apt: it is a shameless Scorcese rip off.  But it has a great and scary and tragic lead performance by Joaquin Phoenix and raises genuinely interesting questions about social services in the US and about our gleeful propensity to make “others” out of others.  I dunno.  I hate myself

5. Burning – haunting and beautiful . Can’t get it out of my head. 

 

4.     Dragged Across Concrete – new cop classic.  And I love cop stuff.  This one so gritty it makes me want to eat a sandwich or gouge my eyes out.  I celebrate this director’s entire filmography. Masterful filmmaking here.  It burns brighter than a            thousand evil mad sorcerers. Seriously, this is crime perfection with a great performance from Mel.  Great fucking writing and atmosphere and whatever.  This a perfect crime epic.  Please give me more movies like this!!  I really hate myself because I’m an ugly worthless failure.  Time to just call it a day?  

 

3.     The Lighthouse – this will be my midnight movie for years to come! Just a perfect slice of something!  Dark comedy or odd Bergmanesque quasi horror or something!  It’s dark and gorgeous and hilarious and stirring or whatever with two amazing actors and every scene is golden and it makes me squeal with girlish glee! 

2.     Dolor y Gloria – I adore Almodovar.  I can’t say if this is his best film because he has too many amazing films.  But this one deeply touched me.  It’s all about the glories and restorative properties of….    Banderas’s best performance?!  I’ll be watching this one until the end of time.  Beautiful movie.  Lovely.  Perfection. Restorative powers!  Oh I’m so grateful for this amazing movie!   

1.     The Irishman – This is a sumptuous film.  The type of movie that makes me want to postpone my suicide! It only could have come from Marty.  Effectively closing the book on the mafioso genre he helped usher in (that final shot could not be more perfect and haunting as a capper).  I’ve had this movie on in the background for the past 3 weeks while I’ve stewed in debilitating self loathing.  Oh God, I really hate myself but its only because I’m a worthless failure.  Usually I’m glad that I don’t own a firearm because I know I would decide to use it on myself one night and just check out for good.  But it’s for that same reason that I sometimes wish I had one.  The Irishman and the movie he made before this one (Silence) are the epic one-two-punch that perfectly closes out a towering and legendary career!  This is a rich flick.  Compelling! I get lost in it!  And all the leads do expert work!  The gang’s all back for one last hurrah! Going out in style.  Leaving it all on the table!  Pure cinema!  

there's my list! nothing's changed! i still suck! i'm still a loser.  ugly worthless individual.  my head always feels full of grey clouds.  it's worse in the morning i think . whatever, doesn't really matter i guess

 

another throwaway, still old and useless

 

so i have at last finished Tom King's run on Batman (granting that the Batman Catwoman miniseries just launched), culminating in #85, the conclusion of City of Bane.  And i can say now that it is a MIXED BAG! isn't that brilliant analysis.  i found much of it to be meandering.  There was a quite a bit of filler.  On the other hand it made me actually LOVE Thomas Wayne who was a character i had abosloutely no interest in after the AWFUL Flashpoint story from a few years and all that button and clock crapola that DC put out.  So yeah, I would really like to see that iteration of Thomas Wayne in a feature film sometime down the road!  i dunno, lots of literary allusions, lots of needless jumping around in the timeline (which looks to only continue in the Batman Catwoman series).  a gigantic amount of bat cat.  Some really pretty art.  I don't love this run at all (except for Thomas Wayne stuff), much of it was overplotted and the Knightmares stuff was bleh.  But i don't hate it either.  As someone who's never been much interested in the comics version of Catwoman this run didn't do much to change my mind (maybe the problem is with me then?!) but all the romance and wedding stuff wasn't bad either.  I didn't hate the run! it was just somewhere in the middle for me.  I'll probably forget most of it in not much time.  Looking forward to see what comes next.  I think maybe the utterly rancid Heroes in Crisis tainted my Tom King feelings a bit.  maybe i'll reread it some day.  also, i'm tired of writers having scenes where ALL rogues (aside from the main villain, ie Bane in several scenes) are either easily utilized or easily dispatched.  ENOUGH.  wait, i remember liking the war of jokes and riddles but now i can't remember much of it.  always nice to see poison ivy.  didn't like the booster stuff that much.  the wonder woman stuff was fine but that story had already been done years ago with Superman and Lois. i dunno, i feel like i'm being mean to Tom King.  GREAT RUN! The best of all time maybe! ugh, i didn't really like the freeze trial stuff either.  man, i guess i'm more not a fan of this run than a fan.  eh, all this decompression (Miller packed so much in 4 issues) and all this deconstruction (but not at Moore level! nowhere near!).  I liked the KGBeast stuff.  oh and the Alfred stuff was kinda cheap.  Gotham Girl is kinda cool (and i liked Finch's interpretation of her, not sure about the platinum kryptonite thing, i like someone like Morrison could have done something hip with that).  and I liked the beach stuff!  ugh, but all the slapping and moping. and the Alfred stuff!  and all the retroactive planning!  Damn, what a MIXED BAG!  

 

on a side note, i've always loved The Ventriloquist.  always happy to see him.  I need to pick up that Azzarello trade.  Azzarello's stuff always ages real well for me.  could that character work in a feature film?  I think so, but probably best as a side villain and not the main antagonist.  I’m going to use thrift to acquire the sequential iteration of steak being the most stressful meal to cook, you know?  I didn’t properly appreciate the first time around.  Mayhaps I’ll also use it in the service of precious metals.

 

I need to figure out what all this scratch and dent shit is all about.  Coffin has me.  Oh, and I just discovered, unrelated but maybe kind of related in a real roundabout way: she has her own channel.  Separate from the glam.  Dear God, let this not be another glorious delusion.  And already, in the deep black.  On another unrelated note but kinda related in a roundabout way all the holofoil chromium shiny shit really works for me.  Got a head full of bad wiring I guess.  Probably has to do with the formative years.  I’m all washed up.  Once I get my act together I will be ordering a box. Boxes are everything.  Gold emblazoned I think.  Foils again.  Foils and hosiery are everything to me.  And being electrocuted.  The hotel again last night as I drifted away.  Late at night I drift away.  Takes me back to some great wasted years where every night culminated in a loving imaginary language and even once when they were trying to take me away I was not scared ( I was drifting).  But yes at the hotel again, forever and a day.  So perfect, surrounded by the red, so empty.  How everything is empty.  Nothing everywhere.  I was at the hotel but not the motel.  The motel usually comes later (an old hell, nothing like it).  It’s all meaningless.  Maybe that’s why I squeal with glee when I hurl myself off the balcony (not quite a balcony, can’t think of the word, faceless commercial hub makes sense, everything nondescript, connection impossible).

Now I understand the meaning of scratch and dent.  Of course, I think as my head goes light, how utterly proper. 

And then with the window open and the thoughts of summer dress (never seen) my mind wandered back to the writings of O.  I can’t recall if the missing iteration ever turned.  But of course, who else would know but i?  new year, new life.  That was near the end, yes?  Not quite the end but very near.  Setup.  Classic beauty.  Madness.  Love white and black.  Magenta of course.  And then white and red once.  Perhaps teal as well.  Did these things really happen?  So lovely.  Thinking about magenta underneath, red underneath, black underneath.  So lovely.  Completely subsumed.  At mercy.  Under. Now the desperate retroactive search.  The names.  What were the names?!  The answers lie in the tortured and blissful memories.  Oh to lie in sweetest sin.  Oh to die in your arms.  I miss you dreadfully. 

 

throwaway, old and useless

 

perhaps against better judgment i am excited for the upcoming The Stand miniseries.  Or am i?  the more i learn the less i want to know.  i was a big fan of the book when i finally got around to reading it.  i found it to aggressively live up to the hype.  i am happy with the casting choices of Flagg and Mother Abigail.  if i were still into toys i'd check out the raw10 toys.  they have a boyish charm to them that would make me feel like a kid again.  coffin comics.  i've ordered several comics recently.  all this funding.  i approve of this new way of doing things.  collecting coffins and frogs and black magic.  i recently watched the director's cut of American Gangster.  i saw the theatrical cut in theatres very long ago, the day of release if i remember correctly!  i've been reading and loving an Elmore Leonard book these past few days.  i cried for several hours a couple nights ago.  i am still very much in Dern's corner. Now I’m reading and loving a big Clive Barker book.   the book i'm reading (was) has an orange cover with a dolphin on it.  i feel so empty all the time.  a new joker series?!  is there any character more overexposed in comics than the joker?!  i'm not excited.  but i dig the artist so i'll probably be a sucker and buy.  i'm also way behind on the batbooks so maybe i'll like punchline.  who the hells knows.  i don't know which author i love more between Elmore Leonard and Barry Gifford. Not sure why I feel the need to choose.  how dumb of me.   i am excited for the crime syndicate series that was announced though! im a big fan of the syndicate! superwoman!  yes.  embargo lifting.  i have some doubts.  but i am excited.  pink cover again on the way.  i like this trend with ridges.  superheroine cosplay has me.  my middle name is earl.  i read the gail ethan sensation thing and didn't like it very much and now i remember that i don't like the way gail writes diana.  never have.  never will!  and now i see that this new celluloid iteration will crib something from Ghost Whisperer year 4! the greatest of all years.  and now that the appraisals are trickling in my excitement levels are growing.  i ate garbage for lunch.  i need to be able to watch that cup.  it looks great.  and the sister of the small temptation, stunning.  and shani like i've never seen before.  submission at the end with the namesake (lady before) of the woman whose appraisals i was just discussing.  actually, half a namesake now that i think about it.  and the most violent.  28.  i missed 28 and that is the reality.  but in this day and age nothing is truly gone forever.  i'm going to go to a department store soon.  i'm going to buy a lot of captain america comic books soon.  glory as well.  and fighting american or whatever the hell.  or maybe not.  i don't know anymore.  odyssey too.  gotta catch up.  i do so love.  

 

a convincing jobber is so important.  such nobility in the jobber.  such satisfaction.  

i get the controversy but i am a liefeld fan.  looking for the cap lot first.  then i need to figure out all the image stuff.  the bibliography.  too much blood.  too much youth.  

 

its incredible to think that The Dark Knight Returns and Watchmen both hit in 1986.  Those two changed everything.  Revolutionary books.  need to watch the abel documentary thing.  and i need to renew my criterion subscription and watch the atom thing before i lose my chance.  New rose again.  I get it.  Always being called back.  In dirty pages and celluloid. 

 

The power of women in spandex.  Fabrics have me.  slime monsters.  i am deeply controlled.  mirage.  i don't know if that's the right word.  but now remaining trapped there with lasers firing off.  audio is the key.  invisible drones.  Electricity.  And always around face.  Too much succumbing as of late.  No purity left inside 

 

Eyecross. 

 

 

I do believe Coffin Comics is the best at this kickstarter indiegogo thing so far.  from what i've seen.  their products are fantastic with fucking BRILLIANT quality control.  and their youtube channel is great.  i've really dug what i've seen of allcapscomics so far as well.  and there's some other good ones too.  i'm too ignorant to recall.  

 

Too late now.  Woke up and realized and it’s all gone away.  On the verge of panic now.  Is there any time for a second act?  New ig.  Dig. Dug. 

 

now i have a smattering of scattered thoughts: it looks good.  The actor playing Harold is doing a great job.  in fact, so far i've no issues with any of the casting.  i'm wondering about the timeline jumping around structure they've employed.  i'm wondering if it might be too confusing for folks who are not familiar with the source text.  also, in this day and age, would it have been better - especially for this type of sprawling narrative - to have all episodes available at once?!  i don't like Billy Joel at all but i LOVE the use of the stranger as the theme for Flagg.  i was worried that James Marsden's dashing good looks would be a distraction and brush up harshly against the everyman stuff but no issues so far.  i like the elegantly photographed scene of two characters peaceably talking.  some scope was not well established enough in my opinion.  maybe future episodes could establish that bettter?  loved jk.  loved the yeats.  overall pleased.  the good and bad bookends were nice.  corn shit.  

my battery is sufficiently charged.  Grift! Then I realized the connection to a viola player (or something similar) who was being roped into some crass commercial music.  Cried when it was all over.  Still miss it.  One of the greats.  I’ve wasted it all. 

magicks piling up (in the wood pulp and then in the fortuitous meeting with The Little...at party with wicca foreign)

 

Thank goodness for the album with the pink cover.  I remember exactly where I bought it.  So many years ago, a special order.  The one without the metaphorical voice commented that it was a cute cover.  I view it as a trilogy with one before with a green cover and one after with a more natural finish.  All 3 are spectacular.    between sea and stars this morning.  Although now the word “this” does not totally apply.   i need to buy a box of Cap'n Crunch cereal asap.  Or do I? the more i learn the less i want to know! no, i definitely do.  Along with a big frosty carton of soy milk! cause cows are for calves!  i put on a Godzilla movie last night.  Shin.  i love Godzilla films.  I remember watching this one at the cinema years ago.  Got to remember the pits as i venture downtown today.  the pits that offer eternal life.  i'd forgotten about my love of Greg.  get down to the grit here.  Of course that leads to the question of love.   i was listening to an old Jennifer Lopez album the other day and it reminded me of something. in some ways it reminded me what a worthless person i've been for most of my life.  Auditing is a passion that many foster during their childhood. 

 

Yes, to die in her arms.  That kind of relates to something above.  My death trail leaving a question mark in the snow.  Die in her arms.  But not the successor.  No, someone else I previously just mentioned.  From a dream the other day.  Two dreams.  First one, so peaceful.  Waking up.  So lovely.  And I realized I’ve never truly felt happiness in waking life.  Such a sweet smile. You’re the only one I can ever believe who tells me not to cry.  Sounds so sweet.  Especially at the end, higher up. 

i feel so detached from everything.  there's a thick pane of glass and i can see what i'm supposed to be feeling at every given moment and i'm able to gamely replicate human emotion in most situations but so i often i simply feel nothing (save for self-loathing, richly deserved).  I’m a big Thalia fan but that may have been obvious from things I was saying earlier.  Sometimes it’s the only thing that makes me feel good. 

i just saw a photograph which revealed that soon a music video will premiere in which Shakira is wearing fishnet hosiery.  so for a brief time my life will have splendid meaning again.  i am such a colossal fuckup.  Also, I’m a complete failure. 

 

life is so sad.  i was listening to john william's score for the empire strikes back recently.  or was i? the more i learn the less i want to know.  no, i definitely was.  i noticed i really like yoda's theme.  i like the selection of paintings for offices.  my wrist hurts.  feel awfully depressed this morning.  life is so sad.  life is so sad.  i think i'm going to finish a book today.  i watched a shit film last night.  i see now the masks give the illusion of beauty.  already, my pea sized brain normalized something quite dire.  dire in the sense that it is another chapter in the interminable saga of failure that is me.  no, still looking for inspiration.  nothing quite right.  i see now.  it is good that intense things often come to an end very quickly.  stark control by the jackal who is not the jackal.  ah yes, that was the moniker.  and is it possible one is now superseding the other?  very much in the prime.  i feel so horrible, so incredibly depressed.  grey inside of me everywhere.  i wonder if anyone else can see it.  please, why do so many people have to talk to me?  damned.  at the top, watch your step.  it went too perfectly.  one of the greatest shapes he'd ever seen. and black like liquid.  this was true glory.  and later on the replacement.  and the rhapsody in blue.  yes, it is all coming back to him.  

 

The other day Adamari was wearing hosiery and it made everything right again.  Fire.  I couldn’t concentrate.  Couldn’t think about anything else.  Oh please please after a hard day of reporting on current world events and celebrity news please use my face as your personal footrest!  Please force that on me while laughing at me and berating me.  Smash my face with those glorious aromatic hosiery clad soles until I’m unable to breathe!  Perfume of the gods!  Make me bow down and worship.  Make me beg for forgiveness!  Demand kisses in supplication!

 

and then i realized how brilliant it is - the stylistic placement of the last 2 songs on that album, culminating in Rosalinda.  Because prior to this the entire disc was one glorious sugar rush; glorious slabs of Latin pop and then state of the art turn of the century Eurotrash!  It's fantastic and gregariously glossy stuff but it's all so overwhelming, by the time i'm at that one song based on another famous intercontinental thing i'm good and spent (though i adore that song) so the last couple are lovely gentle caresses.  

 

Also, I’m a big fan of the move Blackhat.  Love that film. 

I read Batman Catwoman #1 yesterday.  I read some other stuff too.  Fado before bed.  As one without a metaphorical voice once said it is like the melody is being provided by something other than….  Yes, I remember that statement.  Bookend of sorts.  I was in the backseat of a car while it rained outside and that felt just right. 

 

I’m such a sad man.  I mean in the sense that I’m a pathetic individual.  Fallen relatable.  People need to realize that because something is dark does not make it mature or intelligent.  Or do they?!  The more I learn the less I want to know. 

 

It was the dancing episode.  I remember it all clear.  Shiny.  Oh God, the denier.  Then she spoke to me.  I made her laugh. I hate myself so much but maybe in that second I did not hate myself as much. 

anytime a there's Glamissima video with Sara my day - no, my entire fucking life - for a moment, is actually worth a damn.  She's everything.  

 

missed the blue translucent marble (1166 no longer)

 Mind on fire.  That reminds me of the song house on fire by alice cooper.  I love that song.  Trash is an album.  I really like that one live version I found on youtube.  Ugh, I realize now how I’ve wasted everything.  I am a complete and utter failure.  Better to get out the most potent telling now before things have a chance to normalize.  Nightingale last night.  With whiskey.  I thankfully loved.  Reminded me of these same great folk alongside the paleontologist.  Maybe need to read a history book.  Probably not before windmills though.  Need to read big books.  I’ve blown it all.  Can’t relate to anyone.  Too much hate coursing through me.  Predominantly hate for myself of course.  For how I’ve fucked it all up.  Rubberband ball to the left of me.  Reminds me of a specific type of gal.  maybe that’s what I need right now.  I need to eat something.  Gate nine.  Need to bid on that first edition of Frankenstein.  I feel so horrible but it’s only because I’m such a damn loser, such a worthless failure.  I banged my head against the desk several times the other day and it made me feel dizzy.  Need to switch coffee brands. This one isn’t waking me up anymore.  I’m so sick of your shit.  Airport fantasies.  Listening to mark knopfler the other day.  Time to wipe the slate clean?  I wasted this life.  I fucked it all up.  No one’s fault but my own.  I am so unbelievably worthless.  Everything around me is so fucking ugly.  How do people accept this?  How do they just say, yep, this is enough, this is a resounding success?  It’s inconceivable.  Opened a new bottle last night, pretty good.  Going to have a busy day of sun but not a busy day of sat.  why don’t I just drink poison?  I can’t make the hardware purchase because I am too scared of temptation.  I hate myself so much.  I am my least favorite person.  Isn’t that funny?  Been really been digging the classic universal monster movies.  They are just so good.  The pure iconography.  All the star addled conversations as of late.  Just resent myself like crazy.  There is literally no part of myself that is good.  It is all shit.  I’m not very good at all.  Lovely thoughts but so untrue.  There is loveliness somewhere but it has absolutely nothing to do with me.  Found the Italian identity; so glorious, so wonderful.  I’ve been applying brisk refreshing aftershave liberally for much of my stupid life.  My face is so fucking ugly.  My body is also repulsive.  And the metaphorical inside, my hear and soul, are truly foul.  All in all I’m just a very repugnant human being.  Everything lacks meaning.  I love signs.  Was talking to a man of signs recently.  I’m committed to being in a pissy mood all day.  I have hunger.  I ate a lot of fruit yesterday.  His house was favorite from this years batch and I found it worked great on multiple levels.  More like this please.  Stack of books nearby.  Waiting on any movement from a little star.  Not difficult to see the patterns.  No one else to blame except myself for any pattern related subjugation.  Used to be the exception says an analyst.  Not sure where my judgment lies or where it should lie?  Nothing adds up anymore.  Too much of a disparity.  My mind can’t grasp or reconcile these contradictions.  Or can it?  The more I learn the less I want to know.  Wanna read about vampires soon (but not too soon).  Lost control the other day.  Inhaled laundry detergent.   I’m so stupid I’m so stupid I’m so stupid.  Love that book against nature.  The Portuguese actress from the feature film I watched last night was lovely.  My hometown is ice cream.  Have you forgotten about me?  It doesn’t make any sense.  None of it does.  I was sent a blue photograph the other day that made my heart skip a beat.  Or was i?  the more I learn the less I want to know.  No, I definitely was.  Breathless.  Braille.  That’s what the blue resulted in the other night.  Braille all over again that was first brought about by mermaids.  Need more books on goddesses.  Need to reread final crisis cause I didn’t understand a motherfucking MOTHERFUCKING thing.  See how minimal the words are once federal reserve notes have fulfilled their destiny?  Way too obvious.  I’ve lost all ability to obfuscate and that was perhaps the most precious ability of them all.  Also, I really hate myself.  My time is certainly not valuable and that is proven every day in an abundance of different ways.  I’D LIKE TO TOUCH YOU, BABY!  Quick, where are my red vinyl pants?!  loving a little life so far.  i ate half a sandwich for lunch the other day.  

I feel so awful.  I’m such an awful person.  Why do you hate me so much?!  Why do you hate me so much?!  Oh, wait, I know why, it’s because I’m an awful piece of shit; a real waste of life.  Hahaha, I love the ignorance around me.  But I’m also incredibly ignorant too hahaha.  Need to watch a martial arts movie soon.  Need to read about lucia soon.  Good thing I never procured the hardware or I might be ending myself.  Melodies no longer have me.  Nothing words anymore.  Just want to be asleep.  Odd, I feel awful all over.  Oh well, no big loss.  THE REVELATION.  I’m saying that in a real scratchy voice.  Octopus.  I know which connection I should cut.  It’s all my fault.  Turquoise falling down on my lovely vehicle though a reflection of myself on the window would be awful because I am incredibly ugly.  Where’s my tambourine?  Around the world….   Nothing works anymore.  Thank you for being so nice.  Sorry that you were tainted by my existence.   I need to move.  There’s too many goddamn big monsters.  Kaijus are the only thing that make me feel good anymore.  And being asleep.  When I’m asleep it’s almost like I’m not me and I love that feeling.  My great mistake is existing.  Wow, I am such a worthless fucking individual.  It legitimately hurts how much I hate myself.  I can actually taste it.  I can taste my own self hatred.  And I can feel it too, it makes my fat ugly head hurt.  I hate myself so much because I’m a fucking ugly worthless individual.  It’s richly deserved.  I’ve never done a single worthwhile thing.  All my fault of course. 

In a sense I was wearing a corduroy jacket this morning.  Or was I? the more I learn the less I want to know.

In that exact moment as I was preparing a tall glass of rich chocolate Ovaltine I realized I’d idiotically neglected to preorder Kylie Minogue’s new album and for that reason my copy will arrive a few days later than it otherwise would have.  My stomach has been hurting for days.  I really fucking hate myself.  I miss you dreadfully