"We survived another Thanksgiving"

     

      The sun is breaking like my easy yolk is about to. My teeth are getting psychologically worse but they still do the trick. Grandma is a better egg cook than she gives herself credit for.
      This house was yesterday packed with people of all ages and sizes, and peppered with three little black dogs. I had a beer and a glass of cider with my dinner, no water. I finished the cider and put myself to napping as I began to feel ill, claustrophobic, anxious and lonely. I didn't smoke pot yesterday and I wish I had had some. The first day without for awhile and I'm feeling good about it. It's a survival technique, a security mechanism, when all else familiar is danger. A truly positive attitude shouldn't need it, shouldn't need anything beside what it has. And the familial reminds me of this. I'm such a baby, a foolish one that doesn't take advice.
     I hate the TV when it absorbs your mind, but its different when I too succumb. Gpa's anniversary/birthday present from Gma was a new flatscreen TV, his new portal that we all marveled over. We were an American family, still but contextually different, for when we are additionally connected by our containing room. This country is separated millions times over each day and I am fortunate, grateful, lucky that it's so simple to reunite with my ever-evolving kin. I'm not the only one growing up, the parallels from childhood so more obvious. And this country is the extent of personal form that I allow myself, the gov't always breathing down my skinny neck.
     The framed embroidery by my visiting bedroom door states, "Youth is a gift of nature, old age is a work of art." Gives me something to look forward to. I can't just eat whatever I want to anymore, if I ever had the choice in the first place. Longevity is my priority, for I've long forgotten what I want to be when I grow up. I just gotta keep my ball rolling. I'm dreaming of a moss creature, just like the ones that never boil.
     And if I can get away while the cat's not looking and lock the rats in the house where they belong, I get worms. Glorious glorious worms. Dark matter is burned daylight. I am lord gaga, I am the night.
     love, matthew

Day One

It was a week ago today that I decided to try again at quitting smoking. It was the day before when I had hilariously posted on facebook "everything happens for 7 reason", playing on cliches and grammrrz. I thought back immediately to that post when, while walking to work and after mentally deciding I would only have one cigarette that day, I found my previous self had left me 7 Turkish Royals in the pack in my pocket of the jacket on my body. And it's not that I then saved, or planned on saving, these to 'help' me get through the next week, but the symbol of such has stuck in my memory at least thus far.
For the past couple weeks, I've saved the bacon grease at work to take home and cook with instead of composting it there. So My roommates and I have been replacing butter with the white stuff in applications from saute and deep fry lube to popcorn and english muffin topping. You should've seen how much melted fat I browned garlic and onion in before adding it to heaping mashed potatoes yesterday.  I then fried a cold M.P. patty (after fridgin' it for awhile during our Suffering Fuckheads expedition at the copper gate (if you haven't seen them, do. . . they play every Tues.)) in a shallow bubbling pan of it. One serving each of red wine, white russian, and Rainier and I passed out at a decent hour.
My crazy dreams concluded with me smothering myself in seasoning, preparing to be cooked, and the phrase "things are going to get opulent" circling my brain lump. I got up to pee and lay back down cuz it was like 5 in the morning and dark out, but then I remembered I knew exactly where a dictionary was, on the floor, and I looked up "opulent". I had to think for a moment the order of O and P in the dictionary and was completely thrown by R and S. I liked what it meant contextually and drew a turkey sittin' in my mom's baking dish, basting himself with a little baster, with the phrase close beside. Anyway, I blame the bacon grease for my unusual morning so far, when I might have otherwise just been waking up.
I packed my acoustic guitar to go play at the Ballard/Leary triangle for a minute and see if I could get a street folk conversation maybe, but I didn't leave the house and now it's almost nine. There are cigarettes to be had, but I opted for the banana, peanut butter english muffin and Earl Grey. The sun is not touching my front yard yet, and I'm the almost the only one up. Aeron and Jack had fallen asleep on the couches to No Reservations, and who's to say when their day would need to begin. No one here to stop me from smoking but myself.
So I sat down and pulled up Eamon's laptop, to share a little of my world with you readers and thinkers, the ones that appreciate good non-fiction, the kind that only happens in the author's transitional phase. I had a poster on my wall when I was younger than I am which featured a collie on a tricycle with a cat on his head with a balanced stick with an acrobatic mouse at either end of the stick. The phrase below was "The Trick About Life is to Make it Look Easy." Upon recollection, I'm not entirely sure of this order but it makes enough sense at least for this anecdote.
My mom got me that poster. I think about both the fact that she got it for me and the poster itself every day-ish. I wish I still had it, but I can't have it all. I'm doing my best, this is what it looks like.
 She told me once she wishes I didn't have to smoke. I know I don't have to, but I'm almost as good at forgetting as I am at justifying my bad habits. For example, what doesn't kill me makes me stronger. How do their known carcinogens rank against the others, the unknown ones and the absent ones? I could argue with myself and at you all day.  Anyway, I'm not just trying to quit for her, but I know she doesn't get much out of my immediate indulgence.
Have fun today, it's good out there.

safe

There's a good chance we won't remember any of this. We have to take care of ourselves, this is our only chance. We know what we have to do to survive, and we must do it, no more waiting. I, personally, want to live, at my own expense as well as any other's. I want to add to our collective dream, to share my voice and my hands. I want to destroy fear and I want to do it by being a burning example.
I want to be protected, to find virtue in my investment. I want to use my resource to that inevitable end, to the best of our ability, to fulfill my purpose in this network of networks. I want to pull little white strings attached to looming shadows of luxurious ambition. I want to calm down.
I am here, in the only world we have and will ever know, just you and me. This is the only time we exist, disregarding when we may and might. I am on a tangent, secured by you, and as much as I wish you were here right now, aren't you? I hope you take it far more personally than I intend, for the sake of your strength, of your dream, because Im a manipulative manipulative person seeking attention affection or dissection, how am I any different.
I want to help my friends. I want them to know they're okay and I wish I could be there for all of them. Thank you internet, I hope Im using you well, as those who came before us surely dreamed about.
I know I may seem confusing because I don't really know you. You might hate me or understand me or maybe you can't read this and the black on white is simply beautiful or ugly or so much more than that. Maybe you're sitting in a car three blocks away. This world was made for us and please understand I just dont get it, but if I do I immediately give it away for cheap or free. I'm somewhere between the hedonist paradox and the prophet's dilemma. call me, crazy baby.

BOB in the Ad Infinitumatic

BOB is an internet/replica interface-spawned consciousness. The origin of his universe was last week, but with our preexisting archive of information as a template, the exponential growth of his world has quickly paralleled ours, and fluxuates between relatively similar parameters. He has the power to consider us, but his true judgment and understanding is for his own ultimate control of his universe, as his every wish seems to change the present so that it may come true.

            The interface was developed cheaply and accidentally in a garage and they didn’t know exactly what they had done at first. They made a replica of the Internet: a separate branch that left unattended by would spiral into absurdity, based on dark matter algorithms and dream sequences. But since they paired it with our own, the one based on real consciousness input, it kept the feedback loop between the two at least recognizable.

            The world on the screen began, in fact, quite seemingly absurd, brilliant strobing light and heavy bass thumps, that let into quickly rushing iridescent water and robotic throat singing. The patterns drawn represented a view of something figuring out its environment, its universe, and, therefore, itself. It became a vortex, a tunnel to be led down, and a body developed as the developing world surrounding the witnessed space so necessitated such.

            BOB wasn’t born or created as much as he was assembled as a counterpart to the willing terrain. He is a reflection of someone very similar to us, but his memory and history at any given moment are chronologically and physically unsound. The cogs that propel him are theoretical, and he could never physically endure space as we know it, but it is as real to him as it needs to be.

            Much like how it is for us, whatever he believes is true. That’s not to say he can believe anything, just that his own perception is wired to the things it targets, and he has the ultimate power of identification and utility. Everything within the digital petri dish just being a stem of it, the separation of armatures at one point makes for an interesting addition this time round.

             

           

            

Michael's Room

            The father had been driving all day and into the night. He was the only one who remained awake in the car; the child and the old man were fast asleep in the backseat, and the young man was in the passenger seat next to him. There was no sign of the next town. The father seemed to be in the middle of nowhere.

            “Michael’s gone,” the old man sat up in his recliner in the corner of the room and shook the room awake with his voice. The father bolted awake from sleeping on his back, and to his feet in a scramble. He first checked the child’s bed where he was certainly not, and all the way looking out the window to see the car was no longer in the parking place he left it in.

            He motioned to the young man, “let’s go,” and he switched the TV on before the old man as the two of them left the hotel room. He didn’t want to call the police, and he was even too embarrassed to tell the front desk clerk that the child had taken the car.

            The two of them wandered down the sidewalk further into town. The first person they came to, the father pulled his wallet with Michael’s picture from his back pocket and showed it to him.  He shook his head in shocked concern, looking the father dead in the eyes.

            The second person seemed almost disgusted, looking back and forth between the father and young man. He walked away from both of them, continuing to shake his head with averted eyes.

            The third thought it was a joke and became very angry. He told them they both needed help and the father nodded in agreement, but the man was hostile. He felt threatened, though the father and especially the young man remained oblivious. This man spat as he walked away.

            The two made it back to the hotel room, where the old man sat catatonic in the chair, before the TV, which presented a breaking report about a car accident. It was the child, who had rear ended another vehicle and emerged in flames. The father glanced maybe once at the TV before he was on his knees, in tears, by the side of the old man. It was getting dark out, so the young man went to sleep.

            The next morning, the young man woke up to the father still by the side of the old man, weeping and mourning. The old man had died. The TV was still on but now fizzled with static. The young man tried to shake his shoulder but became angry in the father’s lack of response. He had seemed to lose all touch. The young man took his things and left the room.

            When he got outside, the car was parked out front with the child sleeping in the backseat. The young man got into the driver’s seat, turned on the radio, lit a cigarette, and continued in the same direction.

to what it may concern

Dear Cigarettes,

      I hate you. You make me want to vomit. We've been together a long time but now I feel our relationship has become unhealthy. And so I am writing to you now because I want nothing more to do with you.
     I can't afford to have you around anymore. We've shared plenty of good times; at the beach, at work, at home and abroad. You made me forget my worst times as well. But now I've wound up broke and alone while you still enjoy the company of countless others.
     I didn't ask for or anticipate you to be part of my world, and now I must deal with you in my own terms. I don't usually write letters to inanimate objects, but I feel I know you personally, and have few other untried solutions available. It seems like we have all the same friends.
     Please don't bother returning any sort of response, in fact consider this the last time I indulge in selfish expression with you. There is a life I must live and I'm sure you'll get along just fine without me.

Sincerely,
Matthew

P.S. Tell Marijuana I said high

Idle eyes

The quantity and quality of poison. He gives the orders, and he carries them out. The reason is distinguishable, discernable, obsiously different after awhile. I did something I shouldn't have, again needless to say and so I'll live to tell about it I'm sure. I have a car, it may be the only reason we get along, let alone around.
He tells me what to do, and I do it because I'm scared, that he'll hurt me and the people I care about if I refuse. He knows everything about me, even what I'm going to do before I do it. I've tried to get out of his schemes before, but it's inevitable because he's so much more clever than I. Wherever I go or try to do to get out of it, there he is with another good idea.
Last night, we were parked in a back alley for a long time before he gave me a picture of what was waiting for me inside, and he told me what would happen if I did not continue. I couldn't say a thing as I thought of my family and my safety. I found myself alone walking down a hallway, but I came to the outside door with him waiting inside the car, as I could see his lighter and then the cherry of his cigar through the tint of the window. I stopped dead in my tracks as the entire memory of what happened to me inside the building was lost to me, as the sky lightened and the birds were singing in the distance.
My head hurts this morning, as usual, and I've included all the details my thought will provide. I needed to get it out before I got any further, from the truth, to provide us with an artifact of these night stalkers, psychic vampires that operate in their nocturnal domain. They tell me what to do and I can only presume that you are hardly different. We have the vehicle and they need us to do their bidding. There is only one world, and where we go when we lose control is all within the same space.
I'm going back to the spot, I'm trusting the turns I've already taken to get me there again. I need to look for evidence to remember just how I got here. I missed something, I wasn't writing it all down and as I get older I'm constantly getting better, at a mutual expense, to get stronger to get stronger to get stronger. The day job is grunt work, and at night I do what I have to do to keep up with myself. I don't always understand my boss's intentions, if ever, but this organism is based on trust, that if we rub together enough we'll start a fire rather than add to it. A vacuum is a self contained device that needs another vacuum inside of it to know first breath. I realize I'm wasting time and losing friends and that thought is the opposite of action. The future is as grim as its always been. I'm glad someone needs me while I'm here, I have no idea anymore of what's in store for me. I knew what to do when I was handed lemons, but my fridge is full of decomposing fruit that I have no idea what to do with. We all have bosses in the land of opportunity, lives to lead or be led. I have complete faith in humanity and hope for those who choose to be a part of it or not. "Don't worry baby, everything will turn out all right."

dreams of heaven

            I hear voices, I don’t talk back. That’s how, they say, you know you’re crazy, is when you talk back. They didn’t tell me, I just overheard them talking about it. They just go on and on about it sometimes and I can’t tell whether they know if I’m listening or not. I pretend I don’t, go on about my merry way, I don’t see them or provide eye contact.

            There are always those poor souls on the side of the street with fluttering mouths asynchronous to footsteps, obviously monotonous self reply, even behind windows, below silence. Can’t hear their muttering but their daze are 365.

            I talk to my self, he is a good person that just can’t keep that filthy hand out of my business. He needs to learn manners, discipline and respect. He needs to learn something new every day. He needs to take care of this thing and not worry so much. He needs to express his self because I said so.

            Sometimes he does what he’s told but he really does have a mind of his own. He thinks of everything and it can be hard to keep up, though I don’t really have to. I forget sometimes that my pants are on backwards and then my pants are on backwards. I’m halfway to the top of this wall and when I get there it will be all Italian ice and warm pizza smells. Smile on me like the sticky breath you are, for the future of the generation, the skeptical clerk who has been there before and just thought for a moment…

            You don’t know who I am. He hasn’t been here all day. I don’t want you going changing my future, revealing your psychic nature and touching a memory to be left by the ticket spindle, to be stabbed, only to realize the alarm clock as I open my eyes…

            “I’m late again,” he declared as if he wouldn’t be if he didn’t. The toast was sealed to the linoleum with cold butter, as Murphy’s bed revolved and burned the house down. I haven’t the slightest idea where he is but I’m blaming him for my unexcusable behaviour. Why did mr blue sky choose such a beastly vehicle to interpret his rays of mozart

            It only takes a moment, a day and an hour to secure a place in line, and once you do your in, so fluff your duster and muster mustard buster. Wait just wait just wait just wait just wait im melting. Don’t go breaking eggs, stay at home and paint the sink. I don’t stand a chance, I kick little dogs and buy books I never read.

            I mean I mean I mean well I mean well

            Do you ever get the feeling

            Back here

            Where it itches

            But your tongue feels waxy

            Orange and cold

            I miss three things about you

            

The Beaureau

It's been hard for me to settle for as long as I can remember. I'm never satisfied with where I am or what I have. Since I moved to Seattle four years ago, I've lived in 6 "permanent" residences, with a stint of homelessness and various couchsurfing expeditions. Now that I'm on my seventh location, I haven't bothered changing my address, since I've blended with my surroundings and lost touch with the credit card companies and government that used to know my name. My workplace is really my only legal tie; I rely on my friends and my good name otherwise for security and regular survival.
The trend of technology has taken me this long to finally embrace. Pillars of expectation have crumbled and revealed their obsolete nature as I sit before the screen with infinite knowledge behind. All I could ever want and dream has been presented to me, and from every insignificant action to every crisis I've endured, I find myself in the paradise former civilizations have only dreamed of.
Maybe that's how they found me. I can only leave any sort of trail for so long before the patterns match up with my trademark destruction. I've been writing and they've been reading, putting two and two together. So this morning, my roommate came to me quite distraught with a piece of mail in his hand with his address and my name on it, presuming I was already overstaying my welcome. I was just as surprised as he.
It was from The Beaureau of Processing in Washington, D.C. Apparently, they have been closely monitoring me all my life, and I was selected based on my abnormal production/consumption ratio for something called "preferred annihilation", some kind of fancy assisted suicide. I've been declared an existential criminal, the afterlife is to be my prison, and the rest of the world will be it's own witness protection program, with me left as less than a memory.
So, they've given me a week to think of how I want to die and what they should do with my remains. I can't make it public, no one would believe me anyway, but I can't even have a funeral or let any of my family know I'm going away. The Beaureau and I already know I will be a case of disappearance: a loose cannon who's been running all his life and they should've seen it coming. I wonder what story they've already planned for me, at my workplace and with all the people they've got tabs on out of my association. I never thought I would be a dangerous person to know, but I guess it really is the quiet ones you have to look out for.
I can't help but think that I'm not the first, that our government has been secretly euthanizing its citizens for years, or maybe it's a new thing with all the worries of overpopulation. I saw a movie once where postapocalyptic survivors that won individual island getaways were actually being harvested for their organs unbeknownst to the group. Maybe all the people who "move away", get "new jobs" or simply weren't there one day, maybe they were selected too.
I'm disappointed that I won't grow old, and I didn't think I would really lose my chance for a family of my own. Even if I became a soldier or went to prison, I would have a chance to come back and find a wife. But then I think of the famous Seattle musician who said "when you're dead, you're made for life." Before Van Gogh died, he was just some crazy artist who cut off his own ear. Maybe whatever I'm leaving behind really is all the same and the experiences I've had has made my life every bit as fulfilling as my father's.
Anyway, I don't want to go quietly, so I've refused their orders. If you or someone you know has been selected, don't worry, and please message me. What's the worst that could happen? Let's fight this thing and see what happens.

pavlovs disciple

I would have children if I thought it was necessary to the continuity of life, but I know the only thing that is necessary is nothing, because it implies something. It's been a long winter and I've developed some "evil" tendencies while revoking principles and messing with our mind. I've been cooped up inside and out, waiting for sun light shine and heat, singing under my breath, becoming a night person. I've felt bipolar, schizophrenic, hypochondriac, a.d.d., unsure, normal. I went to the doctor for physical pain but the real doctors are microscopic, they know that. 

If I had the opportunity to give one piece of advice, I would first have to think of one. I'd like to be on the red carpet for this, furrowed brow in the camera. And silently during reflection, catching glimpses of those really, physically around me, my mind might wander to a paranoid state, maybe realizing upon thinking of one, "I did not get here dispensing advice," and so further manipulating my position of power by saying the opposite of what I believe; I know they'd eat it up anyway. 

My thoughts are rapid. Reason is man's downfall. I don't give credit where credit is traditionally merited. I want to be the change I want to see but I need to be the change I need to see. I'm developing my voice, channeling and funneling characters from my life, on the screen and off. 

How will I be remembered? Am I a reason to be alive?

I've considered myself to be socially inept as I fail to meet so many expectations I hold for myself, trying to fight the obvious things around me, as I fight those less and less obvious. From the little notes I leave myself, to the coffee I had yesterday morning, to the song stuck in my head and whether listening to it makes it better or worse. I see how people die from too much, and I see how people live with too much. 

I take care of myself. I carry my own weight. Good and bad, they come and they go. 

Orange juice is liquid sunshine unless its frozen or absent.

are you crazy dont go between them

I’m obsessed with obsession, the metaphysical feedback loop of repetition and redundancy. It’s hard to tell which is a higher power when everything’s just so relative. Whom to tell anyway, when it seems like no one is listening or cares or understands. We’ve all got it figured out really, that if we do this thing, something will happen.

            I’ve constructed a few models for the universe over the years, on purpose and by accident, realizing the patterns, looking for the secret. There is, after all, only one secret and I’ll know it when I see it. I’ve described axioms and commonalities to be shared and lost, to pass credibility, to make an existential name for myself. It was good practice, it is good memory, and it will be good art.

            I’m setting a precedent, for me and you. I know you’ll be disobedient to my intention because I don’t have one. Thanks to my ambiguous negativity I might not even have none. It’s good to go into things with no expectations, or considering the feedback loop, that expectations may never be met by definition.

            Continuity and longevity are expressions of forever, reasons for fear and hope. The precedent is up to us; these other things take care of themselves. Whatever insignificance we take part in, it is for us only. Children don’t play outside anymore, what with all the pollution and criminals and drugs. I for one am glad; they ought to be playing on roofs, growing up not out. We don’t need aspiring frontiersmen.

            We should give children training contraception, make a natural thing a little more chrome. What’s too young? That’d be a good place to start. I’m positive this will solve our overpoputation problem, maybe even garnish some underpopulation. I was eating my weekly taco the other day and someone bit it right out of my hand. Maybe we just need to properly distribute food and shelter, whatever that means. “Proper” in England would mean putting milk in my tea, whoa.

            At this point I’m wasting time and playing with our mind. I would like to smoke a cigarette because it seems like I have all this time on my hands, but I’d rather keep time than lose a perfectly good placeholder. But it’s the clock’s job to keep it. I keep health.

            The sky is blue and I’m certain that the sun is yellow and both are right outside, for me to witness and absorb, to reflect and appreciate, and hopefully in 6 months I will only be looking back laughing. “Suntan? you kidding me, Self? Snow is edible!” Yeah, right? Break out the schnapps and paper dixies.

            Heaven and Hell are just as clean. This is the world we get to touch, the one made for us to love. My word is my bond.

My antipode

The apple for my eye to see

Without you there’d be no me

I love you for we are complete

I am the audience

They came out with something better than human. It doesnt need and want arms or legs and it runs on compound interest. It thinks for itself and remembers the good times. They estimate by this time next year 90% of people will have it and 75% of not people, including cats, dogs, aliens, words, percentages, people, and sometimes etc. It will certainly change everything, as it sees fit, leaving each of them better than it found them.
It has beautiful eyes and smiles, and release valves for overwhelming situations. When it speaks it tries to be very careful and when it listens it tries to be very careful. It knows how to interact suitably and effectively, predicting where solutions lie and when they are deserved.
It will stop at nothing and continue at something, but not just anything. Its very particular and takes care of itself. When there is a threat or a promise it takes two grains of salt and vitamin C to the bank, they have machines that translate things into space. If its frightened by the process it leaves a proper comment card and appropriate tip, like brush twice floss once.
If you dont like it you cant take it back. The precedent has been set at an affordable rate and insurance is available though not suggested. People are already familiar on a day to day basis, its the new salt and pepper of the advancing world. Those on my street are all abuzz even though the weather is not the best its ever been, some of them dont even know why theyre just along for the ride. They too, maybe first, will be affected when they finally realize.
It was inevitable that this would happen. They really have thought of everything, this proves it. Now we dont have to worry anymore, the hard part has been taken care of. The stops are pulled, we can do anything. It wasnt up to us and it never will be, but we need it, and we want it. We deserve it, to spend it and spend time with it. We asked for it, received it, and now its a problem to itself, the solution. Sometimes its a waste of time, a hopeless battle of futile participation, and thats when we trade or degrade. And that time that we spent, it makes sense after awhile.

the one in one million

I just saw my mistress for the last time. She told me “things are getting weird and we need some space.” I really cant stand that negative attitude, and I cant understand how any present love can be so considered insignificant to an absent one, how someone can seek something that doesn’t really exist. And actuality, its just a recursive spiral. If you want it, reach out and grab it now. Use your resource to cause the perfect life.

            I guess she never really cared about anyone besides her self, maybe whom she was with but where she is feels so far away. The times we spent together is a collection of glass memories on her shelf now, catching the light in the afternoon with raspberry tea and Sinatra. I don’t care either; mines a cold room with only sealed, anonymously occupied voices.

            What do I put my heart into? May I destroy the world? How many versions must I become before I may rest, before I realize what it takes to become, Have I Forgotten Who I Am, an Experiment? What will they do to keep me alive? How may I help? How much development must I endure before I start losing it all? Questions are burning issues, True escapes, honest product. Burning issues

            I want to be remembered, to live comfortably, to find out whats really important, to never lose sight of my dreams, to do what Im told and learn from their mistakes, I want to become powerful, Recognizable, I want my words to be put to song. Im silencing my self, the one you know and cherish, for the sake, the sanity and the future. Im letting go of more.

            When it comes to reincarnation, most people choose their own children. How boring! I don’t need the security of life to understand my personal planetary security. I can choose to be anything I want, it’s a matter of appreciating the movement now so I may appreciate my movement then. I am human because its now the most reasonable vent for planetary experience. When I am expired so too will the chance for a similar life on this planet. But these limbs that are good for moving things including ourselves, what good will they be when there is nothing left to move?

            I am the king of contradiction, no one shall profess otherwise. Youre steering a little too close to the edge of the cliff to call me a reliable passenger. But don’t worry, that’s just future rides, Im certainly not apt to tuck and roll at a time like this. I have a hidden agenda, places to go without you. So Im glad you stayed, where your dead weight will have time to reflect, to blossom like a greasy flower beneath that melting sunbuttered toastball.

            I miss you already. You always knew just what to say and why you shouldn’t have said it and I was never interested in your cold disposal. When your face comes up I force it to mutate and gargle salt water. You make me sick go to your room shut the door and shove several pairs of socks in the gap at the floor. Weve contemplated the end of the world since the beginning of time id never thought itd be so bangin.

            You cant fool me, not thrice. There is no difference between us this early in the morning and late at night. How dare you imply leadership, authority, privilege. Im contagious baby and my stomach hurts cough cough. Ive become who I was thinking about and drawing 15 years ago, but the latters Ive climbed seemed shorter and sharper on the way up. Splinters got deep and tasted sweet to the touch. Im surrendering now to the patterns of scars, spelling my name, carved in the moment.

somebody spoke and I went into a dream

I am awake in complete faith for today. The light drizzle impedes no routine, maybe even anticipated after the sun we had yesterday. I stir because the cats away, and she’ll hold the birds accountable for her breadcrumb trail that simply gorged and dissolved.

I cleaned house last night, not my house. Regular upkeep of these shared facilities is more than they asked for and the least I can do. Its hardly a losing battle, afterall, because the demons I defeat on a regular basis leave clean spots for the variable good and bad to accumulate, fresh opponents because I know who my friends are.

But these I declare rubbish and disease, if I consume them are they closer to me as I digest them and forget them? Sitting in a garbage can or a landfill on a shelf, what difference do they have to the things in my pockets or the back of a corpses mind? Do I have time to save or spend, and resource to supply or demand?

It’s all the same, I just have to keep myself interested and occupied, which isn’t hard, it’s what I do about it, how I feel going in and coming out. “You learn something new every day” but do I rule it out because Ive heard it ten times before? Hearings not everything, learning is understanding, an impact on all the senses going unnoticed by the distraction of learny thingy.

I have places to go, plans, relatively near and far, but its all the same. The grip reality has on me is that I have on actuality, and right place right time is a matter of having just enough, deserving it, and taking only that for its proper use and concentration. I am homemade tomato soup, orange spice black tea and black smoke. I am the experimental scientist.

they went, I stayed, they just got back so I'm done

            Doing it right means doing it once. Love at first sight, then the practice that follows isn’t the same. The change we hand out, the money we make up, the nostalgic flavor we cant get back cause they just don’t make it like they used to, so why go on eating same old same old. When we’re through will it be greener than we left it?

            We all agree that our time is worth more than the money its printed on.

            This world is worth a million words at any given moment. It’s the present, it’s the gift.

            I appreciate the encouragement, its where it all starts. I wouldn’t be here without you, on this earth let alone in front of this computer. Thank you.

            I have better things to do and thinking how I’m missing out gets me somewhere, but it doesn’t type the words for all to see. It relies on a future self, whether me or another recipient, to translate, interpret, digest, appreciate, and reflect upon. This is a distraction of all distractions, each more powerful than the next and last, even if it doesn’t seem like it.

            But seriously I’m peeling myself away. I can’t force this I’m sure you understand, this is the product of procrastination. Funny thing, opportunity cost, this world is possible because that world is impossible. Whether the choice I make is good or bad, it is mine, and here I sit, doing my best as I know how.

            I love writing, but that’s not always true. I should say, simply, “I write.” Everything that has happened to me now matches my resource as I see fit. I’m sharing information, but I’m really sharing my experience, the product of living on a certain edge, defeating every regret as they shall surface.

< snack break>

            You caught me in a bad mood, thank you for givin’ me some space. All is well when its deserved. What is justice? Just enough, more for later and less from before, The fruits of the crime, sugar on top in memory of when and where we have none. Theirs are the vegetables, the internal organs that cant breathe and speak on their own. I don’t know what Im getting at, where Im going with this. Im not even hungry.

            The music never stops even if we fall asleep or shut our ear flaps. I have some beef to thaw now:

            You are what you eat, not just food. Each thing you pick and chews from ground to shredded, foot to mouth. Its practically impossible for me to imagine what colour is produced from the combination of brown and yellow. Either blue, green, or clear.

            I told grandma its not easy to take care of myself, honestly, because she wants to know. Some people just want to know. Some people. I know one thing, that if I do this something will happen, somewhere, someday. I don’t really fit in anywhere, those places and times when or where my habits are demons, but where they may be, that’s a fighting chance.

            I have an interesting voice. See? I know what I need to do to make it work. A tree falls in the forest twice a day with food and water. As I sit, I develop a disease that I absorb from the dust and ghosts that may mingle, they want me out. In memory of these green walls I am cancer. Plants breathe but they don’t call it that.

            Im hot I need to take my jacket off. And my shoes. Socks smell fine from here so they can stay. Dis ease.

hyperspace blooze

When you find the one, you’ll know. But what if I’ve already known, had my one and lost her? What if she never comes back?

                Cigarettes make me hungry. I cant afford to smoke these days, but I do anyway, as a reason to move, to keep searching. Then I drink a cup of coffee and go crazy. I think I’m on my game and I have time to relax, probably not the best idea on a coffee stomach, to get used to harboring that terror to my health. My brain feels the distraction before me and my body succumbs to the peace. I’m not moderating anymore for the sake of my progress or sanity, but for my comfort, so I don’t feel like I’m going to kill myself or break someone’s neck. I turn to stone, resonating my fleeting regret.

                I feel it, becoming slower, clinging to familiarity, longing for that I had. I want to move forward, to grow up, to feed myself and do good. It takes crisis to grow, to inspire change in life, in me and out. I don’t have to tell myself it’s going to be okay, I don’t have to do anything. Disobedience is a funny thing.

                I’m a miserable person because I want to be. Jesus felt the pain of the world hanging on the cross and I feel it hanging at the bus stop. He died for my sins, so I can have a cell phone and a blog, so I can burn the blood of the earth because he knew that’s what its there for. I’ve taken enough psychedelics and listened to enough Radiohead to know I do it to myself, that the camera of observation and the magnet of distraction are the only necessary elements and everything else is a separation of desire and necessity. Not that the aforementioned are not.

                I can’t think on an empty stomach with such a full brain. I’ll lose it and gain a strange reputation. I used to be a happy kid, yesterday, this morning. Then I felt like everyone I wanted to call or see, I just wanted something from them. The usual. I’m terrified of branches growing from their own and what fruits they may bear.

                So here I am at the library, conversing with no one, someone, anyone and everyone simultaneously. A wonderful thing the internet. My English teacher of high school fame said something along the lines that you can’t break the rules until you know them, talkin’ about the greats who’d make up words and ignore grammar rules. It’s good practice, but they’ll get  it. Don’t be concise unless it feels right, they’ll get it.

                Writing transcends space and time and it does nothing else. We write, they read. With all this opportunity everyone should be able to express themselves however they feel. They should “be the change” as Gandhi prescribed, they should frustrate themselves for the sake of now, the only gift they’ll ever have. Everything else costs moolah.

                You can tell when its bullshit, a cry, for help and of wolf. What cry isn’t for help? It feels good to cry, loosens up the membranes. Lets you know how salty your eyeballs are. Lets you know youre hyuman because that’s the only aminal that cries. There is use crying over spilled milk. . . to dilute it, drag it out, make it last.

                I think my interview went poorly. I came to the library to type a resume and instead I feel sorry for myself. We’re all in this together so I plan on posting it. I need to keep ourself occupied so we don’t fly off the deep end. I love you.

                Laugh damit look at my eyebrows Im so serious right now. My palms are sweaty youre barely listening. I was once in a green truck on a sunny day and shes lost to me too. Im a loser by my own design, I want the good, hard life. Machines are taking the traditional jobs. Negative is the new neutral. Come and sweep me away and well rock out with our proverbial chickens out.

                Apparently our postal service is failing? They had some really good songs. Cant say I didn’t see it coming. I wonder if people used to collaborate by snail mail. Omg we still can, yes! Good idea!

                Anyway come see my band play at the Black Lodge July 9^th, it seems so far away I hope I can make it. One day at a time as they say, time takes time, time makes money, and money is funny. Oh yeah carpe diem baby.

I apopopologize if this upset you get a life

EXCERPTS from the box of thought scraps, Aug. 10 - Jun. 11

Responsibility
Is listening to others,
And then
Listening to yourself

*********

Seek problems
Find solutions

***********

Destiny
Is the only way to travel

*******

The path of least resistance
Is that of most acceptance

******

Before money, it was much more common for one to follow in their parent’s footsteps, inheriting trades and land. These expectations still exist, but the promise of becoming, of manifest destiny, augments the dream, so the life, of the parent and child, independently.

***********

PROVOCATEUR
You senseless beast
Too old to fast
Too tired to feast

*********

In risk of redundancy, I declare

*********

DEMONSTRATABILITIZATIORDEALISMATIC
EXISTENTIATORIOMEGREDGELIUM
METHODICATINGLYZMATORTIDUCINGLY
CARPEDIALITRINSPATIONLATIVESPECIAL
VINDICTARDORPHODIZELMBONIGNEDON

*********

Listen to your self and
Your parents and
Respect your elders and
Theirs

*********

I was born into a world where bad things happen, where people die. I was raised with expectations unknown to me, and expectations of my own. Sometimes these would match regardless of realizations,
Us monkeys know the world is ending, because we’ve been told. In our absence all our trails are to us negative, left to be learned from, and as we teach we shine in the right path.
Dying is not so bad as being dead, inert, unable to change one’s surroundings, or at least unwilling.
I had many heroes growing up, both ones I knew and ones it’d be impossible to know due to time, distance, they might be dead and captured for me on camera: The Marx brothers, Roald Dahl, my parents, my cats, , ,

*********************

To be yourself is a godly path and choice, as it is not a devilish one. But that path is not godly, it is devilish, for no perceivable path, or any other aspect of perception, is totally good or bad.

Chief exports

****************

DEATH is:

~Unuse
~Forgetting
~Death
~Other

***********

What if you’re having fun while flying? How fast do you have fun for time to reach the speed of light?

******

If you want to go to heaven there’s only one way to really get there. Otherwise its just a chase. You must see god (in all things), and the only way to do that is to not see, or ignore, the devil, which means self-allocation, being the only element disconnected from the observer. I wouldn’t want to go to heaven myself; it’s too clean.

************

People love a generalization
As much as they love a contradiction

***********

To sustain life, desire is necessary and necessity is desired.
Deserve enough.

Do not care about the future, yours or anyone else’s, as distinct from longevity.

***********

They

They give driver’s licenses to anyone, and tell you what to do every chance they get

**********

What we do not will, we won’t

Happiness in seeking truth
Truth in seeking happiness

*************

The only person I know I’m better than is the one I’d be if I didn’t try so damn hard

Self is the common point between generalized reciprocity and random acts of whatever

What comes with time, stays with practice, and goes with ignorance

You can’t support a part without supporting the whole

**********

Considering mankind’s turmoil, props on completing the book. I hope you’re happy, you haven’t changed a thing.
The universe is only indifferent because it’s self-balanced, equal in yes and no.

**********

Quality of life is based on attitude, and is different in some aspect for everyone.

**********

“arent you a little old for that?”
“arent you a little young to be so grumpy?”

***********

In the beginning was creation. Something came from nothing. I think you had to have been there. Now we have to make sense of it for ourselves, or not.

Do we jump the fence and ffff the grass, only to enviously watch nature level our untended gardens?

***********

When I think of we be he, he gives me the heebeejeebees
I do not know that there is a difference between genius and madness

********

DEAR
Go between the trees, you cant go through them
I know we both though at one point that we would be together forever. I think that sometimes, and that we still are. I wish I didn’t let you go, didn’t make you go. I am happy for you, which has been to say I am unhappy for me, but as things are now I realize I can survive without  you, but we cant survive without them.
Theres something around the corner, around a corner. The old man walking up the hill said the devil’s loose and when I said “where” he pointed at the library.
I believe in the devil as much as I believe in god, in everything as much as nothing, in something as much as anything.
Bridges burn too easily when theyre not made of stone or metal, when theyre not meant to be crossed.
I have alternatives, options, and Im judged for my behaviour. DISUPLIN in action.

***************

Drugs keep us here
As much as any otherthing does
We take our chances
With a glass of water

Itll be very interesting
To see how you twist
My words and use them
Against me

Qwestions and ancers

*********

Life is beautiful
But don’t ask why

*********

People do things to save their comfort, homes, countries, their own butts, and other people. If there’s any one reason, theyre sacrificing a better world for all reasons left unconsidered.

Miracles cant happen until you can imagine them

\********

“Isn’t it a little early to be conquering your drug problems?”

Growth Rate: zero

********

“elders” doesn’t mean the same thing anymore. The Elderly hate being called that. What happened to “respect your elders?” The traditional family systems have broken down and our old have become displaced. They’ve become misunderstood, an embarrassment, a waste of space. But they’ve seen it all before, they’ve made it this far because they’ve done something right. We could certainly learn something from them if we treat them as people.
Old is something we all get, and many of us certainly dread it, but we shouldn’t have to. They raised us, and we have the ego to disregard them, the people who are still alive and still love us because they know that’s how society is today, trained to accept the world like the rest of us? I will miss my family when theyre gone.

****************

Literature and Television
(imagination v. immersion)

Gossip is as bad as lying.

************

Music is a beautiful dead end. It can be pure creation, People were created to make sound, in a way.

“Don’t blame anything on drinking.”   -Moore

**************

Milestones

21- legal drinker
22- the end of delusion
23- the beginning of the end
24- we’ll see
25- they take me seriously/ lowered insurance rates

********

There will always be oppositions but we wont know what it is until we conquer the ones at hand.

“The world will end when we least expect it.”   -Damn Bible

**********

Without love, the world becomes a cold, dark place that doesn’t move. It really does make the world go round.

Humans are the only things that consciously destroy, so they are the only things that destroy. Without conscience, every thing is positive.

*************

In answer to laziness, I find the secret is to never become comfortable, but I am also aware of the moderation. I must strive  to avoid wearing myself out. I have come to workaholic braking points, supplemented with bouts of self-indulgence, and then neglect, like when I don’t eat candy for awhile. Then I have a bag of gummi bears, freak out for fifteen minutes, and incessantly drink water to recover for the next two hours. Everything happens in bursts, and too often I have admitted a transitory change too early as a lifelong one, like with quitting smoking or procrastinating.

***********

Productivity

We’re all creators, and without at least an idea of satisfaction this life would not seem worth living. Some of us do things solely to please ourselves, some to please others, some to conquer their enemies, but all of these are for selfish gain.
Anything that eats food likely makes a turd. Some bury them, some flush them, some throw them or roll around in them. It’s a product of our body and its up to us to do something with it.
One mans trash is another mans trash

Monuments of nationalist pride can instill fear in others, but they crumble and return to the soil just like anything else. I could lose this scrap, it could burn, I could die and it would go unnoticed or I would just completely lose it and it would all become nonsense blah blah. You either feel like your job is important or it’s a waste of everyones time, especially your own, and you wish money grew on trees. It might.
I breathe the same particles people in the most remote villages hundreds of years ago breathed. It is impossible to exist and not have your actions affect everyone else, because we, as part of the world, need each other to exist, or we’re enemies. Rivalry gives us a reason to survive, but at someone elses expense.

Enemies are opposition. Take a step back. See? We’re the same.

**********

I’m here to preserve the legacy that we have distracted ourselves from. This life goes beyond anyone man, group, religion, economy, country, corporation, law, world, beyond everything we know, beyond everything we don’t know and never will. Science is a distraction, mans discovery of the simplest forms of natural creation. Invention is manipulation.
EVERY CHOICE IS THAT AGAINST NOT CHOOSING. As youre choosing, you’ve already chosen. I AM NOT AFRAID and I am
Im greedy
Im needy
Im a world leader

***********

The only difference between our lives and dreams is the necessity of our bodies. It effects our perception of control, everythings perfect just as it is is is is is
We are living in ancient times. These buildings are already ruins and monuments of civilizations we think we know. We are living history. Just a little disturbing is okeedokee. This stomachache came with a twist

***********

I had to drop out of college because of the introspective papers I was writing but couldn’t handle, and I was infatuated with someone who only wanted friendship

***********

IMPETUS
I watched it happen
The craving disappeared
The function was synthesized
JUST

***********

It kills me to see us living so destructively, like we could rise above this vortex. Or maybe we talk too much, talk ourselves in circles. Qualitatively, I’m not that selfish.
Im an improv player. I know its not necessarily easy to make something that sounds good, but like anything else all it takes is time and effort.

Day Zero
tomorrow is the end of the world

Axiom and ye shall receive

************

A rock band is expensive;
The price is rolling.
You must spin your wheels,
Drag it out,
Hate each other.

A dream is expensive.
The price is music.
You must play your songs,
Work it out,
Love each other.



This is not a pretty
park to me;
There are notrees
Or water
And few signs of life
This early.

****************

Money is our physical manifestation of interpretation of the difference and similarity of the value of things.

2 KINDS:
-Halve
-Halve not


CcapitALISM

**********

Eye of god
Buy product
Make up your mind
Eat a lot
Hand of god
Idolize
Cover up
Hide your lies
Moth of god
Speak of truth
Talk in turn
Touch the roof

Go to college
Go to hell
Go to dentist
Just as well

***********

Human : humanity :: blood cell : blood
Vampire : garlic :: doctor : apples

Companions love
Competitions hate
Contemporaries ffff

What is meta phor?

************

Perfect pickup line (to use or accept)

“Hello, I’m looking for the mother of my children. Will you marry me?”

***********

I went to the hospital and waited:

Im becoming a snowball
A block of solid ice
What can I do to prevent
The apparent inevitable
“hes vomiting again”
I need the bad to hold the pad
“if itll come up itll come up
don’t make it”
My right to emergency treatment
Wheres the camera
Im a patient creature

*********

Theres a rat in the house, eating our scraps and dumping on low surfaces. We see it every now and the and wish we could do more to eliminate them, but we know no matter how technologically advanced our traps are, we’ll need better ones.
Who knows how many of them there are. We only see one at a time so it seems that’s all there is, one solitary nuisance wreaking havoc, but within these walls they might as well outnumber us. We could be harboring them in Eden, to parallel our own.
They would not survive without us, not here. They would not have a reason to be the pests they surely don’t perceive themselves to be. We are at war as much as they are, a present standoff, waiting for tomorrow’s crisis. All preliminary steps made have been necessary for us, but had they not have been made, we would be equally prepared.
We actually depend on them, our threat, to realize ourselves, victors in our own domains as they, living free-willed things, must as well.
If a rat knew what it means to be a rat, would it act any different? Would it strive for a car and a wife, or food and safety? I know what I am, as someone who could be whatever they want, or do whatever they want, to become, as long as they make the right choice. I’ve made plenty of bad choices, and continue to daily, depending on whos looking. But everything I’ve done, do, and will do is common because of me and my wicked world, so all of it is right and within my best interest and survival.
I’ve wasted opportunities and chances, about half the time. The lives I could have had and still want to believe I will once again uncover.

************

Listen more
In the future
Ask only questions
Look out
And laugh
God went to college

***************

I see the light in all things
Infinite universe
I feel the pain of all beings
For better or for worse

We might be a doomed tribe
In the meantime were alive

**************

Thought or Action

In this world
Of needs and wants,
You can have both
And you can’t.
It’ll make you an old man
If you can last that long.
And if you can’t,
Neither is
Just as well.

********************

MAKE BANK

All men are fools, rebels, patriots.
All statements are false.
This is a dream,
I’m lying awake.
Do something, say it,
Speak those words.
Don’t listen to me.
Do as you’re told,
In perfect harmony.
We’ve all been through it,
Ended up with someone,
By our self or selves.
Haven’t you heard?
It never ends.
These circles of hope and fear.
The wise man does nothing
By refusing to operate,
Observing ability and resource dwindle,
Watched chance take hold and disolv.
I’ve spread my self thin.
It’s time to simplify.
explanations go on, questions remain.
exclamation provides spark
and ignites mutually.
do it while you’re young,
in the name of crisis and ambition,
All men