Need to get Africa though, keep forgetting (all my miserable life)!

I think I am going to make that decision, doubling down in a patchy sorta way.  I really shoulda oughta try it.  I still need to get my grubby soiled hands on a crisp copy of that black and white Italian vampire flick with all the ballerinas.  That film is a very rich piece of work.  I’m not actually worried about it.  In fact I don’t worry about nothin’ because worrying’s a waste of fuckin time!  I was quoting a jaunty red headed fella there. I was not referencing that Italian flick in reference to not worrying though.  Rather, I was talking about an upcoming viewership experience.  I suppose I enjoy making up my own damn mind (while never sipping on a margarita because I honestly don’t like those at all).  I am very aware that I often like or love things that are reviled.  So it sort of gives me hope.  Maybe it can be something loud and garish and gaudy and gauche and colorful.  I think I could possibly like that but what the hell do I know?  I’m just a day-trader.  Let me take you to an ATM and we can all go home afterward.  An ATM?  Do you has any idea how crazy you sound right now?  The nature of things, no, no, the nature of me.  Cormac totally ripped off that character’s penchant for coin flipping though I guess I would agree with Jones that he’s not a simple minded writer (maybe).  But damn, Blood Meridian was a slog.  I know what you’ll all say: I’m just too ignorant and degenerate to get it.  maybe that’s true.  But my intent was just.  And my heart pure.  That white Precision is quite great.  I am so glad Duff is back.  I would not entertain the possibility if Duff was not there.  I’m not joking either.  His tone is absolute perfection, one of my all time faves and things would not be the same at all without him.  It’s not as much fun to pick up the pieces.  It appears I may have to return to that dance once more.  Opposite genders in play during the same scenario.  It all works very well.  You are in a suit or in a dress.  If a suit, the tie is very thick.  accents all around though.  How richly appropriate, I think as my head goes light.  

In the heart of Saturday night I lost myself.  Can you relate?  I think I was having dinner somewhere by the beach but now I am not so sure.  No, deep down I know the truth.  Memory is a tricky and wonderful thing.  Was everything green in those moments?  There has to be genuine happiness somewhere if you search yourself.  Why do you guard things like this?  There is no truth to it anymore and that has to be confronted.  No, it doesn’t.  you can lock that all up.  Forever.  This can be made real.  It exists and will exist for as long as you do.  And then when you are gone it will simply crumble to dust and disappear and no one will ever know the different.  You keep alive for the time being though and it is more real than almost anything else around you.  

I think I mostly approved.  All that sexual tension though?  Not necessary.  So lopsided is the result.  Your voice sounds great.  Lets get to work.  Ah, filter tanks.  Partition.  I don’t think I’ve ever used the word partition in a conversation.  Ever.  Why do partitions exist?  I should be working in a factory that makes playing cards.  Can’t really think very well right now.  I am not the ringleader, please do not come any closer to me.  I am in agreement though.  All that struggling, all the pain, so pointless.  Everything.  just a gag.  There is blood coming out of my eyes and my mouth right now.  Itching all over.  I just came to talk though.  I’ve been thinking so much lately.  

Yes, I think that spot in Italy will do nicely.  Many happy returns and so on and so forth.  People only notice a glaring absence.  A rather frightening emptiness though they could not say for certain what previously occupied that space.  Does it matter? We end where we begin, standing there in the rain and someone’s hands are around my throat.  I cannot make out who it was but – like everything else – it does not matter.  

We’re in a funhouse together now and it is strange to realize some people are afraid of you.  someone cursed me and I was taken away from you.  that last sentence meant nothing.  People are afraid when they see you are afraid.  I looked right at you in that dream and I could tell you were very unnerved and this made me feel even more awful.  everyone still insists on talking to me and I have no idea why. There is no cure.  I recall the way she touched her lover and it was tender and when she spoke the words were awful and there was death all around.  We’re all being played with and it is going to be very shocking when we realize the absolute meaninglessness inherent in our desires.  

Running out of ways to….  Punishment never comes.  These embraces should not be taking place.  Don’t prove your point inside of me.  We’re lost and terrible.  Must we pretend there is a point to all this?  All you care about is all those zeroes.  Your bones are breaking and your skin is tearing as that repulsive creature inside of you struggles to get out.  Puke your guts out now.   Curtains is such a lovely word.  Maybe when I’m laying alone in the dark.  My laugh sounded much worse than everyone else’s, right?  I am glad she did not see him waiting there in the night.  I think people are not going to understand where he went.  but he will be gone. Just the same.  

Ah, the vampire’s coffin.  But who are you?  The glitter.  The seams.  Why do you do this to me?  

I know I am in the minority but I did not like Stranger Things.  

i still remember when Blue Glyph Motors declared Chapter 11 bankruptcy

Cubist synths is a great term for what eventually transpired.  Sometimes I imagine what must have been a magical place of orange and gray with so much wealth springing forth though importantly not the type of wealth found in musty old sheds or through covetous hastily scrawled on slips of paper.  I shined a light in back of both of them and as it shone through I knew which was the one.   I walked away quite pleased though the emptiness inside myself was present and more prescient all the time.  What to do, what to do?  I know something is very wrong.  

Bleach blonde.  Down to the waist.  This can work I think.  No, I’m certain of it, works very, very, exceedingly well.   She knew she could get the information out of him.  Look me in the eyes.  I’m not playing.  Cuando yo necesito information, yo lo voy a lograr.  Denim and pink as well, right?  right down to the laces.  Everything goes stream.  Please use the taser.  Threaten.  Mock, burlar.  And laugh, everything is so much better when laughing all the while.  Such fullness and generosity.  Fugitives, right?  I’m all tangled up in this.  Interlock fingers.  Screaming but don’t let go.  This perspective is so glorious.  Punishment so glorious, you must deserve a crown.  Pink bandana.  Pink fringe on everything.  lips.  So bountiful.  

The broken language of the slaughterhouse.  If brains were shit….  Will I see the penitentiary?  It may be so that in the very near future I will be sitting in a darkened room watching some bright pretty colors but I’m not 110% sure.  It would be bad to ask for a bit of personalization, wouldn’t it?  That sweet rose colored imprint.  Which would I even choose?  Something that appeared quite evil, yes?  And surely the accompanying verbiage would reflect this, no choice whatsoever.  Loser.  What a lovely lovely word when spoken from honeyed lips.  This is all so wrong.    

Can’t we all finally move past the mystical (or is it magical?) minority character?  Who else may be guilty of this?  I recently purchased Scream Factory’s lovely deluxe treatment of Michael Mann’s classic Manhunter.  Dante Spinotti’s cinematography makes me drool and squeal with glee.  I was watching baseball last night and shortly after saw an advertisement for a female football team.  It was intriguing, primarily because of their brazen and intoxicating sexuality; full derrieres on generous display.  They seemed in quite good athletic shape  but I was not able to determine if they are participating in a legitimate sport or this league is something akin to the lingerie bowl (or perhaps intrinsically linked) and instead designed primarily for titillation.  Or perhaps it is both!  I have no great stake in things either way but it did pique my curiosity.  

What is he playing with these days?  I’m a very shy boy; I would love to meet me sometime.  The Madame, that was the last thing he was able to utter.  Over the face.  Did Dos Equis pay a bit for some coverage?  Come to the realization that so very few true ones exist.  I was in line somewhere the other day and an older obese man was speaking with an older portly woman – possibly his wife – about a tall energy drink he was guzzling in that very moment.  He checked the ingredients and over the course of roughly four minutes analyzed them for health and effectiveness.  His gut was massive and disgusting and I internally questioned his choice of beverage.  The line was slow moving and their conversation inescapable though the banality of made me feel quite horrible though I could and cannot adequately explain why.  Making my purchase, I found myself unable to look the checkout lady directly in the eyes.  I paid, thanked her and left without taking my receipt.  It was a relief to be in my car again.  

At some point afterward I put on the movie Barry Lyndon and then wept quietly for about five straight hours though I did find time to slip on Bish Bosch.  Please let us all keep wasting time and wasting life.  We are monsters of eight.  Speaking as a former paste eater I should have left the green grass at the gates with the metal eggs, stupid me.  Stupid, stupid me.  Questions remain, eh cousin?  Why exactly did he go insane?  I don’t suppose that will ever be answered but I believe one day I will be screaming and running down a green hallway.    

The answer to the question of life is a….  

I loves the stop motion effects during the end of the original The Evil Dead.  Where did all the great stop motion effects in this world go?  Do I prefer Manhunter to The Silence of the Lambs?  It’s a distinct possibility.  But is the comparison, the choice, really necessary?  Probably not.  But man, is it sumptuous.  But hell, I honestly didn’t realize how sure-footed Demme’s direction is on Silence until my very last viewing, it’s brilliant fucking stuff!  

No, please don’t do that to me anymore.  Please don’t hurt me anymore!  Madame, flowers and dark chocolates.  Whatever I can afford from the wishlist.  Please use the ones with the pattern.  Grim obsession is certainly taking over.  Is it necessary to put them on everything?  not sure what I’ve seen or what exactly I’ve been thinking.  the idea of it being forced is so wonderful.   I have that image of spinning and spinning.  I believe she caught him in that one moment, not so slick, eh?  

Oh, I love love those practical effects in the Evil Dead movies, especially the stop motion stuff at the end of the first one.  On an unrelated note my copy of Alice should arrive in 3 weeks or so.  Mail is so damn fast!  
I’ll probably be losing everything tomorrow.  Or is that today?  Right now.  
Assassin’s Creed trailer.  Hmmm, not crazy about the use of that song.  I would like to wake to M. Cottilard like that, especially if she’s evil (can’t tell if she is or not).  Doesn’t look great but I think that’s been quite a good two-for-two director so that will be enough to get my pale hirsute ass in the theatre seat!  

The elements survive as the prophet saves the one who fell.  This muse.  Please be well.  

Does that box has the originals too[it won't change me either way, i'm awful, awful (curtains)]

The agent was there last night, saving me and then comforting me.  I suppose I frequently find myself at a loss for words and at a loss for simple glad handling these days.  Images still remain.  I wonder how easily memory is twisting everything around.  We must be thankful for its existence.  Without its insistent reach and bend we would all be running around screaming.  
I cannot recall when they first entered.  I am never able to remember.  There is nothing and there is sweating and an ugly caustic feeling of dread and I cannot cry out.  I am a child again even though this is happening in the here and now.  He is in bed, looking up at the ceiling and it is awful and then he is on the floor, in the hallway, down the stairs and on the floor again, so fast and looking up all the time.  What is that color coming in through the blinds?  Why can no one else hear this?  Where is everybody?  Don’t let me go, please.  
Ah, it is always the same old same old.  Why, you could ask just about anyone off the street to describe it and would probably get some version of the same.  Does that discount anything?  Does it discount a fear far stronger than anything….  
One body on top of another.  She offers this as comfort.  
I can’t remember how many times I cried today but I suppose it doesn’t really matter.  Giving it all to that cloaked one sounds like a wonderful proposition.  Is it wrong?  The signs are very real.  I am an arrogant fool.  How many times can one ask for forgiveness?  I tried it for the first time just the other day.  Is that really accurate?  Is it something one just tries?  It feels good to have these outside again.  Not very much has made sense lately.  Ah, urban development.  We must remember to pay attention lest we unleash some sort of tulpa in our midst, committed to doling out the sort of justice we’ve all brought upon ourselves.  
It will probably start on a Friday. The banks will announce a security action…
Crap but Demi has gorgeous legs.  Those recent concerts!  Am I chauvinistic pig for mentioning something like this?  Maybe.  Crazy maybe.  
I think I had a dream about drowning at some point recently and found it to be incredibly comforting.  Please don’t hold that against me.  I have been trying recently to become better at certain things and I think I’ve succeeded in some small, almost imperceptible but still very real ways.  Dollars to donuts but nothing has crawled up inside of me.  

A minor miracle I suppose.  Is that an apt description or am I being too hyperbolic?  That feeling on the tram.  How I have often wished to be a taxi driver.  In whom may I seek refuge these days?  I tried something the other day but felt bad in the middle of it.  
I think I’ve seen ugliness again.  first instincts are not always what they seem.  He is trying to hide behind all these paintings for an allegedly dead artist.  Be careful when you decide not to shake his hand.  Then that beautiful music starts up again.  another one is raising his hands up to the sky.  Another life he was a vampire.  Hard to get back into the swings of things isn’t it?  no one is going to appear.  And that was not a soft lie you told. This is all going to go much worse than we anticipated.  
Everyday there must a be little release or you are converted to a slave once more.  Did you seriously consider that idea?  Shifting that sugary addiction around to something more ethereal.  What kind of sin would that be?  The Jackal easily regained control, oh to be the jobber.  
I often hear everyone’s voice as Tom Noonan’s so twas very easy for me to relate.  
Sad sad sad, I suppose everything is by and large sad and miserable.  His chief goal is to lie with breathe.  Blessed are we inside this….

Yes, I think he was quite correct when he wrote that everything is ugly followed by a smiley face.  The face was there so folks wouldn’t take shit too seriously.  People are so serious these days it makes me want to piss in my cornflakes!!  Sloppy vampires, eh.  Who to consider these days?  I think something blue and metallic or someone using arrows.  He imagines again the dislocation, the complete dominance and control and then forgiveness and comfort.  How he hates….  
Is nothing understood? Do you believe this desire is so easily transferable?  Please refrain from all this mindless boasting.  We are all hiding our pathetic sorrows.  He is deluding himself  we all are.  This is not going to work out how any of us wished.  Dancing in the neon and there is no one else around, only a bizarre and ancient form of mysticism prevailing.  My head hurts all the time.  why does everyone talk to me?  Don’t they see how much it hurts?  I would happily bring over that bottle of wine to hear you say those beautiful words: “I disagree.”  
I’m real enough.  Are we suddenly stuck without any punchlines?  I cannot stop watching the Wonder Woman trailer.  It is so good.  Not just good.  SO good.  I guess we’re all breaking down little by little.  Flesh is melting and melding and merging and the result is a grotesque oversexed monstrosity.  There is a tower of Babel nearby and we all began speaking gibberish the other day.  I think I was screaming for help inside my mind.  I have no hair to pull.  Perhaps if we danced some time.  After he showed off his news toys.  You need to visit me more often.  Please everyone, stop talking already.  I wouldn’t even care except I feel so….  Are the mountains staring at me too? 
Is there someone out there writing something that is going to shift perception?  This idea, the whole fabric flipping is the thing keeping me up.  oh, we are all so very sad and ugly.  Anyone betting on us to go past midnight is going to be very disappointed.  I think I encountered this lunar queen but then I wondered if it was all just a dream.  Real or illusion, it was certainly glorious.  Worship is a tricky word and can be quite dangerous if used improperly.  Everyone please forgive me.  If I ask real nice would all the voices just stop at once?   
I grew up with soft water.  

(k), why stay with that (d)premise?

I’m a tad bit tired this morning.  Perhaps I should chug a gallon of iced coffee and then perform twelve sets of 47 jumping jacks.  Then maybe I’ll strip naked and dance a ballet.  I hope everyone has been careful about that extraterrestrial form of mysticism I warned y’all about the other day.  Last night I properly envisioned the punishment and it sent me off into such a deep and comfortable slumber.  Don’t ask me any questions about the subjective nature of reality because the answers are likely to be much darker than you ever imagined.  If somebody wears a hat on their head I will wonder if they have always worn said hat or if it is nothing more than a chance occurrence based on many incremental changes in the weather and likely also related the price of tea in China.  It is entirely possible that I will drink from a glass filled with whiskey at some point in the future but it is equally possible that I will wear a plaid shirt. 

This is where everything pushes back, isn’t it?  This is where we find out what we are truly made of.  I do not wish to traverse those snowy mountains but I suppose I will and face my own base mortality.  I saw different horizons the other day and strange voices were speaking to me in unison and sometimes whispering in my ear and it was none too easy to eliminate these fleshy tempestuous forms from my line of sight.  At once I began screaming in fear.  Something long and metallic.  Everything was bathed in light but nothing glistened.  I feel cold and my body is tense and my mouth is open and I believe there is very very little of my actual personality left.  I have so reduced.  What the heck is broadcasting?  I think I’m seeing things throughout my entire life.  I really did hate your guts didn’t I?  is my heart made out of Lego?  That question literally just occurred to me.  there’s only truth after all: the milk and cheese truth!  My metal wings are going to cut you in half! 

Do I weep for any lost potential or lost causes?  It happened one day after a trip to the grocery store. That moment was designed especially for me and I would like thank You now for it.  where the other half of eternity run off to anyway?  At some point I came back looking for a job.  I was more worthless than ever but at least I had better chances of making things farcical, no more need to believe in possibilities.  I’m not someone on whom to rely.  That is richly appropriate, no?  all the chance encounters afterward.  I don’t think anything was truly known. There was only mortality here and there. There was fantasy unspooling around her feet. 

Inside the church everything seems well on hold.  There is a particular maneuver he so desires.  I have not even begun to pen a single thing.  I hope you are staying hydrated as it is a real scorcher out there.  Be mindful of those terrifying radio stations and their static.  One wonders about the origin of those sinister signals.  Yes, those eyes definitely caught his attention though not to the point where he would request a cheap replica.  Down on the mat now.  This is all quite improper and if anyone were to learn the truth it would almost certainly result in swift excommunication.  Yet, what happened on that most recent of get togethers?  The same tree of resentment continued to grow in its vain search for the sun.  that is no one’s fault but your own so don’t start putting the blame on any innocent bystanders.  Still lovely.  Wishes always remain the same.  Until he passes out of course.  Then tell him everything is ok. 

I think it is a sign of far too much maturity that the world does not suddenly stop in it’s rotation and begin spinning the other way.  Oh yes, you can probably guess what I viewed last night.  It still holds up so well, I love it so.  Feel so much pity for so much.  Why do you choose to waste everything the way you do?  Just don’t judge my son Stu.  Always the workaholic.  Your sin was trying to save the world.  Come on, lets go inside and have a snack. Nothing is as serious as all that.  We can relax and have fun and frolic and everything will be great.  I so badly want to believe this.  I remember turquoise Nikes.  That image is clear.  And a white t-shirt and then color placement further up.  It hurts an unbelievable amount to recall these details but in the center is a feeling so sweet and lovely.  Why could I not stop everything in that moment?  I fail every single day, attaining new levels and ranks of worthlessness.  You would have to really ask me.  no one else would remember that line but me.  it is everything.  Please forgive me for remembering.  He says he does not want to be a slave anymore but who knows if that is really genuine. 

What happened afterward was…surreal.  Ah, the notes.  As you get older you see it is always the hairier ones who leave notes.  That was a little humor there for all you folks who are young and wild at heart. I should pile em all up and have a wee bonfire and dance around it like I don’t have the sense I was born with.  Afterward, maybe I would have a couple brews and watch a ball game.  Was something written in multicolored ink?  How much sense does that even make?  I’m waiting.  I believe she is spinning gold now.  Funny how those things travel and change.  Where did all those parts of himself run off to?  Afterward, at the cardboard party.  Collar grabbed.  Woodson.  Awful, horrible, but in a chintzy harmless way.  And yet.  Something that repeats forever.  Do you recall a blue slushee(sic)?  Me leaning against a wall.  And then there was a brief and wondrous encounter with nary a word spoken and yet it remains as true and vibrant as ever.  What is the meaning of something like that?  What is the meaning of a singular moment which everyone in the entire world has forgotten except yours truly?  A moment so special to only one single individual.  When that individual is gone, that moment and it signifies and all it meant will also be gone.  Forever. 

When the shackles come out, chains, green glow, swimming pool, I love that part every time. 

I need some of the corresponding posters (beautiful paintings) and soundtracks!

Illusions.  Pretend, this is all just pretend!  He must repeat this to himself while in the fetal position. 

In the end he understood.  The descent was so lovely.  It is likely that we are all very lost.  This is a rather stark juxtaposition, is it not?  Oh how he would rush to secure that sacred spot.  Sometimes so much time would pass by but if in the end a smile could be provoked it did not matter.  To be that ornament.  All planes of existence were at once open.  The totality of so many blissful sleepless nights and tortured words and Farris wheels.  I have a hypothetical question.  That was your overture, yes?  Nyssa, always so much Nyssa. 

I’ve been experimenting lately with ancient alien mysticism.  However I simply cannot recommend it for the faint of heart.  Actually, please do not try anything of the sort for it may result in true heartache.  Also, try not to read any books that have the number 12 in the title.  Charismatic critic Grace Randolph referred to Batman V Superman at one point as a “bold piece of storytelling – The Shining of the superhero genre.”  She then added that everyone initially hated that flick as well. I’m pretty sure that quote is attributable to her but if I am wrong I apologize and I will proffer a swift retraction.  I’m not sure I agree with the statement but I’m also not sure that I don’t not agree.  i liked B v S though, I will never life.  Or lie.  Gordian dip. 

He was thinking about the water when it came rushing back.  There are so many triggers.  He recalled the last one as a black-and-white photograph.  Back and forth, everything returning.  What is the name lingering on my lips?  He is completely separate from himself.  I am separate from both of them.  How unusual.  Yet I’m not sure I really feel anything for the trouble.  It hurts to travel back to that.  Always father away.  You must close your eyes and really focus.  That was the very end, right before reality. 

Constantly baffled by how awful it all is.  There is a tremendous lack of color.  It feels good in a way. As it becomes more difficult to fake anything.  Been listening to the first few Human League albums lately.  And Trickfinger too!  That makes perfect sense though, doesn’t it?  I definitely need to round up a few more of those Kraftwerk albums.  Brian Bolland’s art in that particular one is mind shatteringly perfect…I don’t know how any adaptation could ever….

I’m laying here right now and my arm has recently been pulled out of its socket.  It was a sudden flash of pain, then nothing and brief dizziness before returning back to pain again.  Oddly, there was pain in my head as well.  You were such a clear image.  Scolding but then welcoming there above me.  Wearing a dress.  It was you, silly.  It is you.  It is you responsible.  The one you pulled my arm out of its socket.  You asked polite but I couldn’t and then you asked mean and laughed but I still couldn’t.  so then you laughed some more and punished me.  it’s okay though, I was asking for it.  Oh, but this really does hurt though.  Thank you for wiping that tear from my eye.  And now you offer a comforting smile and your touch is gentle and your voice comforting.  You tell me that you are here now and everything is going to be okay.  And then you fix me. 

Will I watch the Search for Spock tonight?  I guess that’s anybody’s guess but I would probably say no.  maybe I’ll go consume raw sewage instead.  That’s not an indictment of that film however as I actually quite like that one.  I truly do love Trek though and that recent flick lit a literal fire under my hirsute buttocks and metaphorically reignited my fandom.  I desperately need some counseling.  Fetch me my crystal ball and we will dance beneath floating ice pyramids!  We are the ambassador to everything. 

If you mean it.  I suppose I see my hand reaching into that small brain and twisting it and molding in such corrupt ways.  Still, I can not truly pinpoint this as the central cause.  My ideology and reasoning is far more selfish.  He sometimes imagines himself in the center of a large Italian plaza at sunset.  Beautiful couples all around, museums of old and wonderful paintings nearby, and wine of course.  And he is all alone and that is all and that is everything.  Sometimes he is inside a church and a choir is singing and there is a skull on the ground and the skull covers several feet.  He sits in a pew near the front with his eyes closed.  Outside, he is somewhere awful but inside is inescapable.  I sit with him and know myself one time.  Only time.  Once more he is at a costume ball.  This is black and red with some grey in between.  Tears.  I don’t know anymore.  Which one of us said that?  Do you remember, being asked if this is how you thought it would all turn out, if there was nothing more?  This can be even deadlier. 

You are our mother.  You are my mother.  Where do these thoughts come from?  I want to give in entirely yet I am always held back by fear and uncertainty.  Is this something deceptive, corrupt?  You are mother to all of us but I do not fully understand this.  This is kindness and mercy and warmth.  On my knees.  If I could only know for sure what is right here.  Would this ever be allowed?  Your hand on my shoulder.  How long has he searched for you?  You were walking through the fields and there was a child in your arms.  You were everywhere at once, glowing through every passage in the afternoon.  Do you find joy in all things? 

Damn it.  I need to purchase the recently released Criterion blu ray of Terrence Malick’s The New World.  What a gorgeous movie.  Once I have money I will purchase it.  Then I will watch it.  And then?  Who knows!  Maybe I’ll put on a funny hat.  Velia.

What happened to the days of milkshakes and fries?  All those diners we will never visit. 

I needs to learn more about WW1 (I'm a stupid person(

All my homies and all my g’s have been dying to know my thoughts.  During the entire week-end they would stop me on the streets, drop to their knees and beg me for my opinions.  Typically I was eating turkey sandwich on rye during those moments or feeling sweatily terrified over the prospect of alien abductions.  I can’t get out of this!  I’m seeing moments from my entire life.  What is it?  Wow.  I guess it looked like some ancient god. But there was no hair.  I asked if I could smell it (her?), for some reason my screaming brain thought this would provide me with comfort.  The sad fact is that I’ve been away from my children for far too long. 

Boiling heat while I write, that much is true.  You are giving what little virtue remains to the most corrupt and fiendish font of wisdom around.  It seems these nails are a bit rustier than even I could have anticipated.  I loved that jungle look, what bold and beautiful color.  The skull.  I am more anticipatory for that than I would have or could have imagined.  But no, that is not the main course, is it?  Could it be the delicatessen?  We’re just here at the candy shop.  You may make it out of here alive with the chocolate but I’m going to keep the cheese, you can take that to the bank.  My brain constantly feels like it’s on fire.  Oh please, please stop already with all this banal fucking conversation.  You don’t know…you don’t even know.  A fake smile was my only solace.  I want to share it all.  I’ve been searching for this one for so long, wondering if she is a miracle or if I am simply allowing my senses to be wronged.  the. 

The photography is fan flipping tastic.  I absolutely loves it.  I was pleading with all known elements in the universe that it would be colorful.  Please let it be colorful I said.  Purty please with brown sugah on top.  I am tired of everything needing to look so drab.  Diana’s world needs to be colorful.  It looks like some it will still have that washed out filtered look but I can live with it if it’s only some of the time.  No, that footage was glorious and hit all the right notes.  Seeing that lasso glow and her in action was such an ultimate squealing fanboy moment.  I did 47 jumping jacks from the sheer adrenalized excitement I was feeling.  Seriously..  was this a perfect trailer?  For this movie I dare say yes.  Why has they not made this flick before now.  I am ready.  I am so damn ready.  Wonder Woman.  2017.  Yes

And for the league footage.  That is what you are now thinkin, correct?  The Wonder Woman trailer was an easy estimation because it was a clear slam dunk heard round the world.  But the league stuff?  That is the real question.  Oh, let me get Dr. Strange out of the way first.  I liked that trailer an awful lot too!  It didn’t excite me as much as Wonder Woman because I’m not really familiar with the source material and have not been in mad love with that character for half my life but it looked groovy and, more importantly, it has Mads Mikkelsen (swoon) which ensures I shall be there on opening night. 

Ah, but Justice.  I love the logo, it looks so hip and retro and gnarly.  I actually didn’t even mind the icky music playing along with the clip.  But the tone…the tone was a damn shock to me upon my initial 37 views.  I wasn’t ready for zany it was!  This looks like it could be a Patrick Warburton Tick-esque style superhero romp only with the JL characters!  Of course, I’m not a complete moron so I know it won’t be but I would actually love that.  I guess I’m not a fan of how reactionary these flicks are becoming.  Folks apparently disliked the dark and dreary tone of Bats v Supes (though I maintain the tone isn’t really the problem) so the brothers Warner and Z Snyder et al are eager to show that this new movie is a complete 190 and full of jokes and wacky hero antics. That doesn’t mean it can’t be good (or great) but I find the more bloated and contrived these things become they more artless they become as well.  I will always experience a knee jerk fanboy excitement at seeing Batman or Wonder Woman or now Aquaman and Flash and Cyborg and seeing heroes interacting but there’s gotta be more than that, right?!  This was just a hype thing more than an actual trailer and I am excited but the footage was overall…weird I’d say.  Can’t exactly articulate how I feel.  Suicide squad- effin ready! Wonder Woman- perfection! Take thy beak from out my heart!  Justice League – excited but not sure how much of that excitement stems from the content of the footage. 

Diana the huntress and the jackal.  What more could i…?  that lovely technique of tijeras.  And then spinning, rolling.  Please.  Can’t breathe.  That is so so sweet.  now I’m taming the beast.  Watch em fall. Love conquers all!  John, you were right, we are all in water.  Death bags.  I have not been back since you left long ago.  New life.  Red heart.  Red heart!  The orange on the front is still speaking to me.  I guess I’m left wondering what it all really means.  I wanted to scream out, drop everything and leave but I could not do that.  What are the real motivations lurking just beneath the surface?  He falls every single time, it appears he cannot help himself.  I think I’ve been listening to a lot of punk recently but I’m not entirely sure.  That feeling when they’re inside your brain.  There is nothing more awful.  Except maybe us.  We’re pretty awful, aren’t we.  Our desires.  So disgusting.  If we are living in this way, why do we even….  So unnatural, this idea of coming together.  Always moving in herds.  

my feelings have not changed.  every time before i fall asleep...always thinking...not real, not real, does not matter at all

Whales exploding in slow motion

I just heard the news of Olga Kurylenko joining the cast of Terry Gilliam’s The Man Who Killed Don Quixote.  Now, Gilliam’s always an interesting director and I highly enjoyed his last flick The Zero Theorem but for some reason – perhaps the decades of delays – I’d lost a bit of interest in this project.  However Kurylenko’s involvement just sent it sky high and blasting through the stratosphere.  Those who know me best know I literally worship the ground Kurylenko walks on – every blade of grass or speck of direct is sacred to me – and this insures (ensures?) I will be present and accounted for on that fateful opening night in the far too distant future.  You don’t know how lucky you are boy.  Oh Olga, I swear….

Last night, I watched 20 minutes or so of an early 90’s flick called The Rapture.  I had some kind of horrifying dream but I forgot most of it shortly after waking up.  I ate scrambled eggs, coffee and a piece of toast with peanut butter for breakfast.  At some point I reflected upon my own useless but I cannot recall exactly when.  Is there going to be another war?  Interesting thought, that they may be apache helicopters.  That never would have occurred to me because I simply do not have the knowledge base.  I think I want to re-read Cronenberg’s first book.  “Why the hell not?” I ask myself.  Love yourself as I love you.  I sat in my car reading Archie comics the other day.  My veins looked so plump.  I don’t enjoy being a pain in the neck, do I?  So many tentacles.  Perhaps going mad one day.  

No more tributes please.  Please just stop with the tributes, always terrible.  The new Star Trek Beyond trailer was kind of bleh, just like the first one.  Still excited for a couple of the actors.  People tattoo their pets?  Unbelievably stupid.   That little movie I mentioned earlier was quite admirable, definitely not without its but worth the search and the dough.  Methinks it will stay with me for some time.  lovely when things are just out of reach, eh?  Tropic of Cancer is ever more engrossing, the language rich, paragraphs are feasts.  I was searching everywhere yesterday for my damn blu ray copy of Blue Velvet but I couldn’t find it!  I found all the others but not that one.  Then I read from a Betty and Veronica Double Digest as I sort of alluded to earlier.  I’m sorry, I know I may be in the wrong but I simply cannot accept the re-launched new look version of the Archie universe.  I’m too attached to the classic style!  Currently the digests are the only format which still sport this style which means I must snatch up every single one as they are released and read them while guzzling gallons of steak sauce and whiskey on the rocks (for years now I’ve been a big rocks drinker).  That new Sonic the Hedgehog series starting in July looks intriguing.  I think I’ll buy 9 copies of the first issue, just for laughs (just do it already, no one will miss you, no one cares).  Though I am looking forward to this new subversive Twin Peaks influenced Archie universe show Riverdale set to premiere on the CW at some point in the future.  Could be interesting.  The cast photo looks good.  Oddly, Twin Peaks is by far my least favorite Lynchy thing of all Lynch’s projects and my heart drooped a bit when I heard he was returning to that series instead making another movie.  I’m still going to watch it though!  I feel so dizzy right now.  Gotta find a clear copy of that new reissue of Changesonebowie.  I’m such a stupid hipster.  I hate myself so much.  I think I’ll put on Tilt and write some crap.  Maybe I’ll fly a kite later but I doubt it.  my hands are shaking.  On my knees now and the light barely comes through

It’s always an hour or two behind.  Why?!  Why do they torture me so?!  I can’t feel my legs…K….  We’re not the same, none of us.  All so trivial.  I sit around bathed in neon and marvel at my worthlessness.  Only one appropriate course of action.  I can’t remember what movies I rented the other day but I think I need to return a few.  Still can’t seem to get a hold of the one where he fights the martians.  I thought I did once but alas, it was only a pipe dream.  Not meant to be.  Steaming guts flying out.  

Nothing in the world made me happier than the blissful confirmation that Michael Keaton is indeed going to appear in the next Spider-Man movie, ostensibly as the film’s antagonist which is speculatively the Vulture.  I have a real soft, squishy spot for ol’ Web-Head’s classic villains and I would be delighted if this conjecture turns out to be fact.  Please let it be so!   
 
King needs to get over Kubrick straying from the source material.  Just fucking get over it already!  Curious to see if he’ll be so vocal over The Dark Tower adaptation(s) making changes.  So damn curious!  I love King and Kubrick though.  Please forgive me for being so harsh.  

I must say I’ve been really bonding lately with Marilyn Manson’s 2015 album The Pale Emperor.  It has been a gloriously slow grower but it has not left my car or my brain for a couple weeks now.   Manson has always been one of the very best in modern music in fashioning an album as a unified statement and in this increasingly digital and singles oriented age it is a glass of fresh delicious lemonade to delve into a full and rich album once more, something that explores concrete themes and experiments with style.  Manson’s voice is also in fine form throughout and he pushes himself into some thrilling throat tearing territory.  I say bravo to this release and look forward to further listening.  

It’s an oddly beautiful image, isn’t it?  Or perhaps I’m just a raving lunatic.  I have doubts.  Still, not as beautiful as Gamma and Beta, am I right?  Oh please keep me prisoner aboard your spaceship! 

It only matters when its taken away, let us not pretend.   

plasma crave (attention better word)

Seems improbable things would work out in such a way.  It seemed improbable is more accurate.  Smiling through the teeth.  Such a singular definition, is anyone else in agreement?  Perhaps not.  Been easy so far but these last two are likely to be much more difficult.  No such thing as right where they left off.  In a darkened room and nothing changes.  Why are they letting so many sociopaths into their lives?  Ho hum, does not really matter much.  do not give too much away, hurts to see it was all for nothing.  Oh please, don’t be so serious, so self-important.  Oil.  Rich and black and all over my hands.  Lets not get bogged down with semantics.  All of us who bet we would find fulfillment with our menial dreams are in for an unpleasant realization.  

Me saw Captain America: Civil War the other day.  I sat dead center in the theatre and felt comfortable as ever.  I submit that Black Panther – played to a T (for T’Challa) by Chadwick Boseman – was the best part of this feature film.  I’ve been a BP fan for decades with my love renewed during the excellent Marvel Knights run from a few years back.  His was the most prominent character arc in the flick and his action scenes frequently among the most stirring.  And out of the myriad of cameos and setup-for-future-movies characters which always litter these movies his was the most organic feeling and adeptly acclimated into the larger plot.  Spider-Man’s involvement felt much more shoehorned in yet his spritely energetic presence was a welcome addition and he also won me over.  

This instinctual possessive desire is something alien.  That doesn’t really make any sense.  Is there a sinister transformation taking place?  Is this the nigh imperceptible gradual descent alluded to so early on?  I’d bet you’d make time after he’s gone.  That much is sure.  Increasingly it is only possible to find solace and safety in the creations but not us.  This cannot be right.  Is it a contract then?  Do we all owe someone for the rest of our lives?  It is funny to think how everyone believes it is going to make everything better.  It is just one more element to be ruined.  All so ugly.  

Scissors on my mind again, not good.  Reinforced steel, not good.  Reinforced heel-toe thought…wow, very very good.  RHT.  Can’t get enough.  Or can I?  No, definitely no!  I most assuredly cannot get enough.  The ending of the of the invisible killer was more generous than he imagined.  I suspect he shall be returning soon enough.  

Is the block rearing its ugly head again?  Did the wolf run away with the inspiration too?  We’ll see how this sushi thing works out though I have high hopes.  I have high pie in the sky hopes.  Ah, secrets and lies, you gotta love em!  The alternate identities are a bit on the passive side now.  Though things are rather horribly clear in the harsh morning light.  That first pic of Idris Elba as Roland Deschain looked promising.  I remain cautiously optimistic and mawkishly intrinsic about the whole thing.  Did I see a bunny in the barn last night?  If so, I imagine it was the most terrifying things I’d seen in a good long time.  Tight like a fist.  Do you understand?  It’s all connected.  After all, why would he call label that collection with that term?  And where exactly is he travelling too as he descends those stairs?  Is it possible to fool so many.  Please don’t tell its true.  Where is my crutch?  We’re all leaning on something these days.  Can you remember the last time you were truly…?

I do believe he’s finally hit upon it.  What would he be without those particular sins?  And the willful destruction.  We all live for those things.  Sad.  Though we’ll get it by.  It’s a very modern world after all.  How is it possible to so actively seek out that destruction.  He keeps traversing the same lines, going back again and again.  something has to dull it out eventually, right?  Ah, the sweet imagined pressure around his neck, patterns imprinted on the skin.  A few taunting words of magic and everything starts to feel just right.  And afterward?  More drink to drown it out and old Polaroid photographs falling down onto a pool table.  I know less and less....

Bit of a struggle here really.  Amazing what can be suppressed when the timing is just right.  we are all crumbling oh so slowly.  Hahahahahaha.  Wait!  Who was that just laughing right now?  Don’t look behind me please.  I just need to read a little more, that is all.  please don’t let me see what you really look like.  Hot tears running down my face.  Please don’t let me see you.  

Guillermo Del Toro is quite a talented director.  I think i own all of his flicks.  I myself am becoming obsolete (not that I ever really had any value or importance to begin with) but many of his works are becoming richer with age.  I also heartily enjoyed his most recent movie – Crimson Peak.  Twas a splendiferous gothic treat awash in bold and beautiful landscapes.  I don’t know what I’m saying. But I liked it a lot.  Oh Chastain, oh yes.  Hellboy movies are amongst my very favorite.  Don’t forget his Spanish flicks, they bleeping rock!  I love Mimic too, I have a soft spot for human sized insects (maybe because I am one tee hee!)!  I love pink basses!  I covet them!  

So much time wasted.  So much of nothing going on.  Is that the way of things.  I never had a chance to….and now we never will.  Let us keep prioritizing things which do not matter.  While what little beauty there is continues to perish all around.  Can anyone be forgiven?  What was seen in that final moment?  Never again.  I did not appreciate enough.  Why do they keep on talking?  I wouldn’t even care except I feel so bad.  

Tried to think of something comforting while falling asleep.  still haunted.  Tried.  Something strong and caring.  Primary colors.  Capturing the essence, the spirit.  The mythology.  Capable of so much.  and down below.  Wrapped in.  every moment.  After the long days.  Why always involving such lack of cleanliness.  Your own thoughts betray.   But this comfort in loving enslavement.  Always underneath, receiving the commands.  Perfumed subjugation.  

I finally understand: I like it because it is bitter.  And because….

and definitely more with A.B. Lepe, right?! Also, if only, to be cookie

For the Girl Who Has Everything truly was one of the very best and I’m not too proud to admit I was quite moved by the end, especially that last night.  Of course, I’d read the story it was based on years and years ago and also thrilled to the cartoon version but I dare say this was superior to both of those.  I am pleased by the renewal and overall happy with the move though a bit concerned over budget and who may or may not be returning.  Melissa is the secret weapon though (maybe secret isn’t really appropriate given how upfront she is) and as long as she is present the central spirit of the work should live on.  As I said last time, the cinematic outings keep faltering but this is near perfect and Melissa is its best asset.  

My blu ray copy of A Lizard in a Woman’s Skin recently arrived.  As did my copy of Cold Fish.  I think I’ll watch them both back to back while consuming a bottle of cheap gas station wine.  What does it mean or imply when something begins with sex?  I suppose I’m going slightly mad.  Fulci though, quite a director.  Sono tambien.  I need more (all) movies by them.  

I don’t fit in too well at a family picnic, had to leave early.  He is trying rather hard to do something which makes him feel good again.  Do you remember how that felt?  It seems like so very long ago.  

I think I may be falling in love with the language all over again.  It is a rather glorious feeling.  Cronenberg wrote a great but challenging first novel.  

Oscar Isaac is one of my current favorite actors, always giving a fascinating performance.  A Most Violent Year is so compelling, his performance a quiet storm.  

A lot of helicopters flying over us these days.  Paranoia, fear.  

I keep questioning the validity of things.  Is that the right word? Hard to say. Baffling how many people exist in a state of constant unhappiness, desperately trying to convince themselves it isn’t true, that it’s all for something or that it all means something.  I think we’re all one step away from sitting in that theatre, clutching our fantasy with tears streaming down our faces, realizing it’s all fake.  I wonder how the awakening will feel?  Ten seconds is not very much time at all is it?  

My oh my but Bjork’s 1995 album Post is brilliant, isn’t it?  I’m predictably late to the game because I’m a worthless failure with no real taste to call his own but…that music was playing in my car yesterday while driving through the rain.  The water against the windshield, perfect grey skies, occasional boom of thunder, a rather comforting solitude and detachment from the awfulness everywhere and the music became central, all scattered electronic beats and her voice beautiful and chaotic.  It’s a very urban album I think. Is that right?  Is metropolitan better?  I imagine walking through crowded city streets with headphones on and this playing, feeling good and alone.  Better off dead if I can’t be….

The Witch comes out on blu ray tomorrow.  I have not decided 100% whether I shall be making that purchase though the reasons for my heretofore indecision may be darker that you’d hoped.  Still, I can say with complete certainty I loved the film and for one reason or another it has been on my thoughts often during these past few months.  I also still need to round up several issues of that Poison Ivy miniseries and Neal Adams’s The Coming of the Supermen miniseries but that’s neither here nor there.  I think I was eating a fortune cookie recently in the middle of the night when I was once again struck by my complete and utter uselessness.  I may have had a good chuckle later on about it, can’t quite remember.  He wonders how people pretend so well.  

It’s hard to beat the walk away perfection of the electrician, isn’t it?  but that shouldn’t stop anyone from trying!  On the contrary!  It came flooding back again despite the break.  There was the inescapable envy as he desired an undeserved gratitude and wished to be the motivation for such laughter.  In the end, it wouldn’t really matter though.  Nothing matters (hand around my neck).  Side by side though, that was a lovely turn of events.  But whom is he looking to for his inspiration?  Is there a real danger present?  Would it be terrible to say he is doing it all for…instead of…?  Of course, things can’t be entirely clouded over can they?  Certainly, there is the hope of meeting one night at the masquerade ball and of honest tears and the wonderful manic laughter which comes from harsh realization and giving up illusions.  Yet there was also the thought of how that pattern and color and shape would look underneath a veneer of black.  Everything in reverse of course, so much pressure and words alternating between fierce and tender and back again.  

Good ol’ Fulci.  Don’t torture a duckling and all that.  On a largely unrelated note those old black and whites offer surprising delights, don’t they?  Panthers and all that.  Tall and golden and a mystery which will likely never be solved.  I sense a generous amount incoming somewhere down the line once things stabilize a bit.  And of course, the search previously mentioned will now continue in earnest until the end of time.  Reliving those early primitive moments has been…fun.  The dogs are hunting her down now.  When she came to the village she said a certain someone came with her.  be very careful please about what you let inside.  

Day in the life maybe but no use extrapolating on certain things.  Ooooh, yummy.  There were many laying on the sheet.  Please, help yourself.  Immediately the thoughts jump to being tossed inside.  Wet and warm and slippery and then hard and jagged, laughter and some deep rumbling.  A swift rejection afterward and some necessary discipline followed by a cleansing and then a swift insertion, more laughter.    

Mayhaps I badly underestimated the bridge.  Mayhaps I say.  It’s feeling pretty good right now.  Elephants.  

Writing things off, deducting, very economical practice, necessary for continued longevity.  

I always get called an asshole (riff on track 2)

My head gets too tight sometimes.  Instant understanding and inevitable questions.  That lovely river looms so large.  The only act which could possibly have any meaning.  Don’t look at me that way.  No one understands except those who do.  About to encounter a prophet but what do those numbers mean?  Please, I do not want to be disrespectful.  Is this going to go very bad?  Horrible influences controlling all of us.  You did your little dance and drilled through the…again.  please don’t let anything in, don’t even let it cross your mind.  Was it really a fable?  An apple and that hand looked so pretty for a moment.  

The evening is never meant to go smooth.  Don’t be so combative.  This is turning into a witch hunt.  Relax baby, let it happen.  We’ll cut and go and everything is going to make perfect sense.  A disjointed narrative is what’s really being called for.  

Not everything through my eyes.  nothing through my eyes, really.  That seems the most appropriate.  That gives me great comfort.  Maybe you said that to me after a not so blissful train ride.  Why doesn’t everyone see the same things?

Who is that I hear walking up the stairs?  I feel so scared right now.  Maybe I would scream but I don’t suppose it would do much good.  

You said the word “cocksucker”.  Did you mean it?  Where did you hear that?  I must investigate.  Twinkle twinkle, eh?  What a richly appropriate choice given the evening festivities.  Don’t forget to keep your head….

Precious skin, burns so neatly.  So easy a child could do it.  is that too transparent my alternate personality asks to no one in particular.  

This can’t be every single time, this can’t be every single motherfucking time. though I suppose it ultimately doesn’t matter.  A rather lovely comfort to be found in meaninglessness.  Nothing…right?  Please don’t make me say it.  hand wrapped tightly around my throat.  Don’t force it.  whatever you do, don’t force it.  that is the worst of all.  And yet here you are.  Magic potion down and everything flowing so smooth.  

“Hey, I’m this.” “Oh, you’re this?  Well, I’m that.” “I say, what a batshit crazy motherfucking coincidence, eh?”  Hey fellas, you may be this and you may be that but I’m over here contemplating the majesty of my grey matter splattered against a nearby flat surface.  What does that make me?  You’re certifiable!!!  You’re certifiable, you know that!  No no no, we were talking about dinosaurs (sworn enemy of man), not sharks.  

Nothing should be so easy.  Too much loving going on.   Hurts to say anything.  Please excuse me as a noose has just dropped into sight, too lovely to resist.  Damn  

Is that the reason why you?  so many question with no real answers.  He doesn’t  know why he does things, how many times must he repeat this?  

Strange comforts. Predictable imagining the source as from a different home.  
They (though I should say he) assured the sun would not rise anymore with that last bow of glory.  I stole a bit of that though I made it clumsier.  It was a really a last bow for them but the beginning of something much greater and far more beautiful for him.  

Not dreaming now, am I?  I suppose we can briefly discuss various anti-monopolistic sentiments, perhaps over some cocktails.  There is always an emergency popping up.  I don’t imagine the law changing anytime soon.  Simply the way of things.  everyone in suits and slicked back hair.  If only I could.  what am I doing Mombasa?  I think mine would likely be the mother.  Know, what I’m talking about, yes?  Sounds like such an ugly word but I know it wouldn’t be.  

I look like a whore? All the days of my life.  No reason to care really.  Beautiful I say.  It’s two different ones talking right now.  In reality the first could never ask such a thing for s/he was never privy those other thoughts.  Oh, all the ways I failed you.  not sure what this admonishment means.  Oh God, why must we all talk while in cars?  Please, can everyone please stop talking to me?!  Pretty please with sugar on top.  I suppose a lack of answers is my answer.  Why try so hard?  Nobody else is.  

Pure terror in the middle of the night.  think I was probably around 25% or so.  Screaming so loud, fists meant to be raised.  Screams no longer sounded human, so deranged and awful.  My God, who’s coming in, who is going to open that door?  It’s 3:30, isn’t it?  Or just a little later?  What’s happening?  This is how he’s going to look in her eyes when what we’ve overlooked has taken over.  Always love drinking in that rage.  

Watching bright blue eyes is becoming a legitimate problem, isn’t it?  so many innovations making it even easier.  Starting to feel like my best and most cooperative contemporaries.  Let’s not make too many jokes though.  This is destructions.  Another beautiful barrier to all the awfulness everywhere.  Turquoise high heels, can’t argue with those though.  Everything he would have asked for.  Parental advisory for harsh language.  Growing on him, right?  Absolutely nothing is the same, must ask if it ever will be again.  I guess that’s why they call her lethal….  

I pulled up to pay at the drive thru of rather disgusting fast food restaurant.  A young chap with red hair took payment and gave me my repulsive food.  His name was a name I typically associate more with a pet than a human but it is not a bad name.  his work seemed to be less of a passion for him and more of an obligation.  This struck me as sad though it was laughed off by another.  Curious where this youngster will be in 30 years.  Where will any of us be?  Trudging along in slightly higher levels of unhappiness.  One can only hope!!! Smiley face!! Tee hee, laugh laugh, chortle, snicker.  

You know, deep in your heart of hearts, you know who that is.  

the scorpion attacks (great addition to the)

Scott Walker’s 2006 album The Drift is so good it literally facefucks the shit out of me every time I listen to it!  I put in the other day while driving around in my maroon Mercury Coupe and blasted the holy hell out of track 6 Cue.  That big ol bastard of a track sounded bitchin as a motherfucker on my pricey and stereo system and I spent many an hour of that drive with that tune on repeat, screaming the bizarre and haunting lyrics at the top of my lungs!!!

Imagine my shock and awe just the other day whilst I was perusing the foreign films aisle of the digital video disc section of Ye Olde Conglomerate and I happened upon a used copy of a feature film featuring Yamila Herrera which I did already have.  I nearly suffered a major cardiac even right there on the spot.  For years now I’ve made it my chief goal in life to collect every film – indeed, every THING – which features Yamila Herrera.  It is the only thing in my miserable life which provides me with any measure of satisfaction.  This tells me I need to be even more vigilant and studious in my search.  I need to forsake things which I’d foolishly prioritized and double my efforts from this moment on.  Yamila, I swear….

Flesh colored hosiery is so wonderful, joyous.  

Little tone, eh.  That probably isn’t the right term, just more of my token buffoonery.  The what of Mexico?  I’m not sure I understand.  I am hella intrigued though as the kids would say.  That’s right (the mascara snake)!  I’m still hip to the rad street vernacular.  

If only she would stuff a used pair into my mouth!  I suspect that would make me very happy.  

I’ve been listening lately to Carla Morrison’s 2015 album Amor Supremo and it is quite a lovely and ethereal piece of work!  I came late to the party as usual (because I’m a worthless individual) but it truly is better late than never.  Great songs, innovative production and a beautiful voice.  need to dig deeper as these are only first impressions.  

Another grand event last night.  what can I say?  They simply know what they are doing better than anyone else in the game right now.  

I also been catching up on Supergirl in recent hours.  My word, I’d forgotten that she….  If only after a hard day of crimefighting I could….

Low and Tilt, so perfect.  And several others.  Things keeping me alive.  

Once a month, is that too much?  dick well in hand, everything began to feel so not quite right.  Is this possible?  Are we really living in this world, where touching our groins sets us into locuras?  Something just doesn’t seem quite right and I frequently have the sneaking suspicion that this is all part of someone’s imagination.  But whose imagination?  Ah, that is the question.  Could it be mine?!  I suppose that’s possible.  There’s just too many weird things.  like movies.  How is it possible that we watch movies, that those things exist?  I frequently have the sensation that what is being lived is not real at all, this has all been invented.  There is an element of terror in terms of discovering who invented it all and why but my curiosity remains the same.  I don’t edit things anymore.  Devoted followers of my work have likely noted this.  I’d love to say it’s for artistic purity or some such puffery but it really just comes down to common household laziness.  

I recently watched the movie Regression starring Ethan Hawke and Emma Watson.  I dig the director.  Abre Los Ojos is a fanstastic film and his entire oeuvre is filled with rich atmosphere.  I was able to call what was happening within the first 5 seconds of this flick.  Not because I’m smart (I’m actually incredibly stupid) but because I’d previously read a great deal about similar cases.  I found the flick very compelling nonetheless with really smart photography.  I think I’ll purchase it at some point but who can say when with any degree of certainty?

Of all this shared universe crap we’re being made to endure I will say I think I am genuinely excited for and interested in the new Universal monsters movies!  The mummy is up first and the cast and gender swap certainly excites me!  We shall see how it goes.  

In this moment I do feel Your love and that is beautiful and keeps me going. I am a fool.  
I brought up Supergirl earlier.  Interesting that this TV show is currently doing a much MUCH better job of keeping the rich and wonderful spirit of the  Superman mythology alive than anything in the cinematic works.  I think this is right though, I do need to listen to more positive things.  

Watching a bit of baseball.  I find it to be a very satisfying sport.  

I am writing now of this specific place I have forsaken.  It was a necessary act, a necessary sacrifice. It was more than the right thing but the right thing doesn’t always feel right, isn’t that right?  Still, it definitely saves a lot of feelings for those all important morning hours.  And the night?  it’s still ours and though some are momentarily not quite as crisp, nothing has truly changed.  We still find our way to that masquerade ball.  Please tell me it’s going to be okay.  Do I have any right to ask anything? We’re all just tired of wearing masks.  But I’ll never know.  there is so much comfort to be found.

Which reminds me of the video game Sonic R for the Sega Saturn!  Any other fans out there in interwebs land?  I used to race as Knuckles the Echidna all the damn time.  such is the nature of wisdom.  

That 9th grade drama class, what do I even say about it?  

But no, let us not depart as such.  This music pumping through the speakers.  When I see you I am not so sure at first.  I am trying so very hard to hide how fractured and wrong I am.  I know you can see it but you accept me anyway and this is everything.  I have no idea who I am anymore.  She lets him know this is okay.  There’s a big comfy California King in bedding….

This is me at my most anachronistic.