July 2009
1 post
here comes the wall. there’s no avoiding it. there’s no telling if it’s you moving toward it or it moving toward you or what it might be that might be compelling you toward it or it toward you as the case me be either way or the other. it’s so long and flat and obstructing. it eliminates. such simple beauty. zero options. clarity. focus. from the second it comes into view...
December 2008
4 posts
no lulls. false senses are for bad psychics and psilocybin addicts. the moon is still hanging in the sky doing it’s thing. the waves keep crashing. buoys sway like giant metronomes for improv jazz pianists. i hope you’re a gambling man with some sort of grasp pf statistics and probabilities cuz you’re gonna have to let this one ride. hope is alive and clawing its way up the well...
slowed to inaudible humming. you can almost feel it. if you put your ear up to it it will shake your ear bones just enough to make you pull your head away and immediately go about sticking your finger in your ear and ringing it about. tickles anyone? i got a club. when used properly it doesn’t tickle. short, squat, dull is that it’s there. it’s moving and shaking whether you can...
all good things to those who wait. yeah, heard that one before. been there, done that. how about some get up and guh-guh-guh go!? a few more means and not so many ends would be a nice start. metal, meet pedal. nose, please shake hands with grindstone. elbow, this is grease. a little round robin and voila! you guys are all gonna be great friends i think. so then, lets get going here. lets make...
thought you had it there didn’t you. thought you were home free. but from the looks of it you seem to have miscalculated. and now you’re sitting right where you were before. pathless. no bread crumbs. no string. no map. no outline. no plan. really now, what were you thinking? yeah, go with the flow. great idea. you’ve had long enough to figure this out. you should know better....
long days. spent. calloused hand resting on an ever creasing face, creasing it even more. a chiropractor’s dream posture. glazed stinging eyes. all in the name of beating around an imaginary bush. only to arrive at the place we tell ourselves we’re trying to avoid. stagnation. somewhere between a vegetable and a legume. not worth anything to ourselves. worth probably even less to those...
November 2008
10 posts
from up here it’s all so small. making it far too clear just how crushingly big it all is. our feeble minds get all busy trying to wrap themselves around it, and the concepts that come with it. but it’s going to be quite some time before our grey matter finally finishes cocooning it all up nice and tight and really begins to get to work on dismantling it all into nice neat organized...
lil’ bugger just waltzed right out and didn’t even say goodbye. and now you’re left not only holding the bag but the bill on your foot and the pack on your back and a pocket full of kryptonite and all for what? it’s not late, nah, nah, it’s still early, early. so you just stare and hope and pray that it’ll come back and that you don’t look too stupid when...
there’s nothing you can do to stop it even when you want to. it just keeps coming. even if you have plans. ugly head gets reared. you try not to look, you try not to make eye contact, but what if it’s not crying wolf this time? what if this time it’s really real? what if this is it? oh god just pick up the phone. what’s it gonna hurt? yeah so maybe it ruins your plans...
get staggered. step off you willy nilly dill pickle face pneumonia breath hog slide barf tack vermin pile anal source pound cake rip mine joke freeze plaster fire crew lips kick hire guppy lame piece hope orange towel. you have no idea what it’s like to try so so so goddamn hard all day every day to make sure that you have some concept, some clue as to what the fuck is going on and be at...
planning on waking up screaming. how well did that work out? and here we are, awake, in silence, in darkness. the plan was just a dream. literally. trying to be quiet makes it that much worse. noises sound less natural. nothing sounds good. so stop fucking around already. feet hit floor. don’t try to hide it, don’t be afraid. you can’t help it. it has to happen this way. fuck a...
a fortress made of blankets, chairs, imagination, a flashlight, and two hours of time to kill. simple, clean. good god i don’t need a reason! what’s changed? expectations? whose? not mine. and what the fuck do i care? and who the fuck would say something anyway? jealous much? my time is mine all the time. do what you want with yours. it’s all about the sweet slow illusion of...
soap bubble sting in the eye. at least you know you’re getting clean. at least it’s an attempt to scrub the garbage off. in some way shape or form it will work. even if it doesn’t. even if it’s just symbolic. even if all you’re doing is cleaning the dirt that will never come off, like freckles. another option might be a new paint job…but it’s already sold....
congratulations! you’ve got just about all it takes. a choking combination of self worth and greed that fuel a blood pumper so cold and foul if it were up to us, and it is, (we are deciders) you’d be well on your way to the top, or bottom depending on your feet’s spacial relationship to that imaginary flatline in time and space. in case you weren’t paying attention -...
practically choking on the bit while chomping at it. you can’t restart that fast! if all practicalities came true we’d be screwed. we need magic. we need unexplained unexplainables. we need wishing. i’ve got my fucking fingers crossed, how about you? what do you want? what are you hoping for? i’m not religious but…elephant heads and 11 arms and people coming back from...
September 2008
1 post
the very beginning of the end of the end all be all could have been longer. but alas, we’re left with to make the best with scraps of the mediocre we’ve wrestled away from the dogs that they’ve seen fit to throw under the table as we’re sliding gracefully under the bus in a last ditch effort to save us all. maybe if we clap our hands and say “yeah” we’ll...
June 2008
1 post
[A person…] on a bicycle can go three or four times faster than the pedestrian, but uses five times less energy in the process. He carries one gram of his weight over a kilometer of flat road at an expense of only 0.15 calories. Equipped with this tool, [a person…] outstrips the efficiency of not only all machines but all other animals as well.
Ivan Illich
March 2008
28 posts
playing romantic. even though we both know. everybody knows. but still, one, two, three looks back to get to the center of the sweet tootsie center of my heart as you walk away. and i pretend like that’s enough. i pretend like you’ve made it. you call when you land, distracted by the baggage carousel and annoyed at real life and finding a cab and having to go to work in the morning but...
if only i forgot. if only it had just been a mistake. but alas, it’s much much worse than that. i did it on purpose. better yet, i didn’t do it on purpose…didn’t not do it on purpose. that’s better. now that we’re clear you can see through us. transparency is important. ask me why later. from where i am i don’t even need a telescope. i want to see the...
heart’s beating hard. it’s make it or break it time this time. and worry, if you make it…well, then you’ve made it haven’t you? but if you break it, oh lordy, if you break it, then you know what that means. that means you’re still exactly where you’re at right now. and i think we can safely assume that if you liked where you were at you wouldn’t be...
it has to be the pressure. more exactly the difference inside and out. the cracks are small but spreading. soon, things will be seeping. soon things will be spilling, spewing, spraying across and through the barrier. it’s been so long it’s hard to say why they were separated to begin with. which was being kept away from the other? control groups have vanished and information gleaned...
straight up. no rocks. no chasers. no mixers. open the bottle and go. and don’t stop until you are physically unable to go any more. it’s easy. it’s simple. it’s way more fun than making games out of it or fussing it all up with ceremonies or like making some big production out of it. wasting time is a waste of time. it’s not a big deal. it’s not drama class....
“here, taste this.” he said as he held it out to me on a fork. i opened my mouth and he put it in like so many times before (stop being a perv, i’m talking about the fork). i closed my lips around it and he pulled out the fork. after i chewed for a minute he said “well, what do you think?” i shrugged my shoulders hard like i was in a ciara video and there was a loud...
throwing rocks in a house made of rocks. where everything is an after thought. sorta. and nothing we do makes a difference and all of our actions bring about the exact same effects. just more rocks scattered about. and which one did you throw anyway? and which one did you hit? what did they look like before that? and why do my hands feel so swollen and why do my eyes hurt so much? like i’ve...
wake up screaming. gravity has reversed for a small amount time for a small amount of objects located directly around your present area and now that someone is aware and looking, any second now reality is going to snap back to reality and the outcome is not going to be pretty. try and warn her. try, try, try and you will only come, to this conclusion, she doesn’t seem to care. you shake and...
no one’s talking to me. i see a hair in the toilet bowl water in the shape of the letter “s” while i’m splashing my pee into that water in the toilet bowl and it’s mixing all together and swirling the “s” around and i know tons of people that have the letter “s” at the beginning of their name and loads of other things that are current and...
i’m not into execution. i like to think and talk and plan. actual action seems a bit out of place. there’s just not enough space (unintentional rhyme?). the lack of freedom makes movement momentarily impossible. and who knows how long moments last? could be longer than we’ve got. the diminished view doesn’t make any of it easier. there’s enough light to read by but...
could have done better. could do better next time. that’s not my all. i could go back over it. or give it more on the next one. but the sad and lonely truth is that it’s better than anyone expects and better than most people are willing to give and in the end the praise comes rolling like wind across the prarie and it’s at least as annoying and chaotic and noisy. and pretending...
an untimely passing. it should have been 2:30 or 3:00. this is just far too early. now we’ve got to too much time to kill, on our hands, with not enough to do. we’re gonna have to bulk up the ol’ to do list. laundry, dishes, sweeping, reading, shine the pennies, water the plants, write the suicide note cuz oh my god this is boring! who ever thought it could end up this way?...
i’m not exactly in on this. i didn’t get the memo. no one clued me in. playing catch up. is there any possibility you could like let me look at your answers? any chance you might be willing to help a brother out this once? honesty? there’s no place for that around here…but, well, i mean, i could give it a shot. i don’t know what good it will do you to know that i...
everyone else thinks it’s funny. so why aren’t you laughing? cuz the funny thing is is that they don’t get it. they haven’t even listened to the lyrics. they don’t understand where it’s coming from. or where it’s going. or what it’s actually doing. every single hair stands on end and is affected. oh don’t even begin to try to fool yourself into...
exuberance is wasted. it has been at the bar all night doing tequila shots and incredible hulks with joy and good news. but the party is fucking over now. car keys wouldn’t fit in ignitions if it could even find its car, feet won’t carry it home. someone call a cab. does anyone know where it lives? jeez, it’s all fun and games until someone passes out on their stool in the middle...
put the kettle on, get the water boiling, and have a seat. we’ve got a lot to talk about. where’ve you been? what have you done? why don’t you call me? have you ever heard of email? because i care that’s why. well, i’ve been busy too, but i still find time. it’s right in the corner where i keep it and it’s always there. and plenty of it. you want to spread...
idle threats. swinging dicks. what time is it? why don’t you go ahead and go where you go when you go fuck yourself? yeah, that’s right old cat, go find yourself a nice dark corner of a nice old out of the way closet and lie down and commence with the licking yourself to death. the rest of us have tons of things to actually do. if that’s not an option your ego will allow, my only...
idle threats. swinging dicks. what time is it? why don’t you go ahead and go where you go when you go fuck yourself? yeah, that’s right old cat, go find yourself a nice dark corner of a nice old out of the way closet and lie down and commence with the licking yourself to death. the rest of us have tons of things to actually do. if that’s not an option your ego will allow, my only...
there’s cars in the parking lot. there’s people inside. we are open for business. come in and see if you can find what you’re looking for. oh yeah, we’ve got it all, something for everyone. even you. shelves lined from floor to ceiling. need some help? there is someone for you, just waiting to answer all your questions, and they know everything, and point you in the right...
there used to be an order to things. there used to be somewhere to go. kinda up against the wall now aren’t we? dead stop. bone in, skinless. turning around is an option but do we really want to back track back? not really. the only other option really is to follow the wall and see if maybe just maybe it opens up somewhere and maybe david bowie could maybe be there, or better, dmx, and his...
777 in a subway tunnel. wreck filled life, even when things go right. nothing left but bits and pieces and burning and jagged edges. and now the rest of the poor souls are trapped. but sylvester is not in there, or coming to get them. no light, limited oxygen, and a bunch of little cell phone lights that will only last so long. so long. nice to know you. good bye. who’s gonna be the first...
finding the point seems to be the piont. but then there is another point after finding the original. which, said second (or maybe more?) point is to not get the fuck skewered out of yourself by what you’ve found and instead put it to use skewering someone, or something else. right? i mean, so what if you’re hot for teacher if she’s digging her heals into your back? what? you dug...
wrist slitting boredom. isolated life. a revolving door with a glass cieling on a glass bottom boat. fish swim. birds fly. meanwhile, the illusion of motion keeps us from asking too many of the right (or wrong?) questions about all the movements we take for granted. an electron spins and rotates around a nucleus as a part of a spinning planet rotating around a star that spins and rotates in the...
excuse me, but i’ll do the heartbreaking around here thank you very much. i can handle my own just fine. jeez, almost makes you wish you had a soul doesn’t it? suckers are born every second. suckers are going like hotcakes. can’t even keep the shelves stocked. it would be nice to see them go for a bit more though. supply and demand i guess. surf, lie, and the man. makes you...
don’t count today, it only makes it more confusing. there’s too much to keep track of as it is. don’t look now, we’re being watched. okay now look and watch right back. “running out of steam” is an outdated metaphor. but only if you’re counting. and besides that, to boot, technically it is exactly what we are doing. and i’ll be damned if i...
someone put lipstick on this city. someone’s trying to pretty it up. as if you could fool us. as if that’s all it takes to fill in the cracks. are we to believe the vermon aren’t scrapping it off just as fast as it goes on? but maybe that’s the point. something to keep us busy, to make it look like we are trying even though we know that attempts are futile. saving babies on...
i did not create this world. i do not hate this world. without ruthless people this world would not exist. did you create this world? do you hate this world? are you not a ruthless person? every man for himself. jump ship. fuck all that women and children bullshit. there’s not enough room in the boat for us all, but if they get there first, hey…some will sink. some will swim. some...
inspiration to choke on. gag, gasp, spit. fly by night. fleeting spending spree that leaves you cheap and desperate. you don’t have it. you don’t have enough. knowing doesn’t help. wishing is as good as action. marks and slashes give you away. predetermined. marks and angles of marx and engles. oh to have the original instead of type written grab-ass garbage. to be able to...
August 2007
3 posts
tightrope balance, no net, lions and tigers and bears oh my waiting paitiently for you down below. they don’t care if you, specifically you, fall. it’s nothing personal to them. they just need to eat and would prefer to do it sooner rather than later. but don’t worry about them, there are plenty of people without the inner ear capacity to keep the act up for long so fresh meat...
pros and cons all weighed, all weighted. the weight of the world and all the time. who has the time to fact check all the facts? one leads to another and chainletter magnitude is reached momentarily. manage, micromanage, delegate all you want, you’ll never get done. you’ll never have certainty. find a field, lay down, and die. the blessing and the curse…knowing you don’t...
if i was you i wouldn’t do that. If you were me you wouldn’t be doing this. if we were us we couldn’t possibly have seen it coming, or had worse timing. time after time cindi lauper’s gonna remind you of the chick that plays rick morranis’ love interest in ghostbusters. and before sunset what the fuck’s his name is gonna somehow make his way into a movie like...
July 2007
9 posts
signal faded. call was lost. reconnecting is an option, or is someone trying to tell us something? is there anyway to find out? there it is again. just don’t pick up. they will go away (lie #4,782). you will never be free. the ball and chain are firmly attached to your neck and they have been tossed overboard. at best, you can hope like jason vorhees for a sequel. at worst, you can drown at...
picking bones is less fun than you would think. though it is slightly more enticing than licking wounds. so what do we have to say for ourselves besides “sorry and thanks for the practice.”? well, honestly? nothing. yeah, so, what did you expect? we’re the type of few words. “the more the merrier.” isn’t exactly tattooed on our chest. if pressed, we pleat. there...