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[21 May 2009|07:48pm] |
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kinks - victoria |
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why does the mermaid wear seashells?
because d shells would be too big.
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| daddy's gone and my brother's out huntin in the mountains... |
[30 Apr 2009|01:03pm] |
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brian and dennis wilson - oh lord |
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it's the 22nd day of my birth. twenty two revolutions around the big bright thing.
i moved to seattle a week after i turned eighteen. moved back to mesa. moved to seattle when i was barely twenty. moved back to arizona. moved to seattle when i was twenty one.
...and i just turned twenty two. i was wondering what to do. and the closer they got, the more those feelings grew.
daddy's rifle in my hand felt reassurin.
he said red means run son and numbers add up to nothing.
by the time it hit the dock i saw it comin.
raised my rifle to my eye.
never stopped to wonder why.
then i saw black and my face splashed in the sky.
i want to be surrounded by friends and animals again. i had a nest, a cave, a loving fire by which to sit. and i left for greener pastures, for the greenest pasture, to find that it was cold and sterile and boarded up. i don't know who the fuck i am in a world gone completely mad. but at least i can ride my bike through it and i expect to gain some insight that way.
there is such an ominous, cosmic boredom been breathing down my neck, soakin' wet. even those times i was swapping spit with molly and bloomers, i felt sad in some way and scared that i wasn't ever going to feel urgency again.
there's a band, cake, and warm, meaningful faces to share this eve with. beltane is coming.
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[27 Mar 2009|04:37pm] |
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little asian boys playing shootemup games |
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i feel the superboredom, hype, and mediocrity of post-modern life more than i thought would happen here. consciousness of the violence of my soul being leeched away is enhanced tenfold by not having any distractions, like a job. all of my efforts are for increasing our comfort, not for creating and sustaining beneficial projects, nor for connecting ties to the community. i haven't heard my calling yet.
seattle is a wasteland. this quicksand isn't quick at all, thereby disguising its presence. i can see the spectacle in all of my relations and actions. i feel like a brain in a jar. i feel like screaming, but i know i can't scream as loud as i need to, to pierce the overwhelming amount of noise and thought pollution. somewhere inside me, i know if i just went shopping that i would feel a little better. i probably just need some exercise and some inner silence. i need a mission. i need i need i need i need to find a way to kill that sense of need. i need to enter the realm of wildness and set up permanent residence. i'm trying to find a balance between balanced and imbalanced.
i just want to feel strong.
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[06 Mar 2009|04:35pm] |
the job sitch is bad. the census doesn't want me. unemployment is supposedly 8.1 percent right now. thinking about all the other unemployed people versus me doesn't make me happy. all this competition. why can't everybody win? nobody's hiring, except fucking greenpeace. and all the other places that are hiring want like ten years experience for every little thing. there's no fucking space to breathe in this city, let alone set up a life, a place, work i can feel good about, and a community that is accountable.
wage slavery is a DRAG. i just want to make the decision to never again sell my hours away for mere dollars, but how will i live? the only way to get out of a double bind is to obliterate it.
i have few resources. i have food stamps and friends with couches, but little social capital and no higher "education". i've been constantly dreaming up get-rich-quick schemes, to no avail. i feel the soul-murderers tactics working against me and it's fucking scary. luke got a job, and that's a relief. but where's my job? it makes no sense to have all of these unemployed peoples willing to work and NOT WORKING! don't we have something that needs to be done!?
at the least, i've been learning ukulele pretty good with my free time.
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| arcata, ca |
[22 Jan 2009|11:26am] |
we're driving to portland today. arcata is awesome. jake and tigris are saints.
this road trip is great. i'm pumped to be doing something new. luke and sierra and i are a great team.
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[20 May 2008|02:34pm] |
my throat hates me and i endure body and head aches. i'm making ginger syrup so i can mix it with club soda and drink homemade ginger ale. i'm hoping it will help my stomach when i eat two raw garlic cloves. i'm obsessed with home remedies right now.
i've been dreaming up fantasies about wearing muddy aprons just outside the kitchen window of a lovely thatched-roof earthen home, tending to the myriad of herbs which represent years of gathering and love. where there's a home remedy or a folk medicine, i'll be there shortly. my imagination of a world without civilization is developing. i'm learning how to see past powerlines, medians, fences, and streets. can you see the black and red mud and breathtaking green and all the wild left in the world? i can, though barely.
also, preparing this ginger syrup has been awfully joyous, enough so that we're already going to buy a bottle capper to make homemade sodas. it's all part of this battle for self-love over buying beer and cigarettes. if i really loved myself, i wouldn't poison me. and when i do anything for myself and others that is creative or proactive or loving, it builds momentum.
but, y'know, once i can start smoking again, i probably will.
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[11 Apr 2008|12:08am] |
this is my second bike collision in the last couple weeks. fucking mike's pike as black as a cave, fences and trash cans appearing instantly, scraping my hands and knees. i already sustain cuts on my hands often enough. i don't need bike collisions.
i can't watch the smiths or mariah carey videos on youtube. what else is the internet for?
i don't have a phone to talk to aaron or luke as often as i please. but i can run a DnD game tomorrow. and i do have tons of free food from work.
free tecate and bands with too many members.
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| oh yeah, oh yeah, oh yeah, oh yeah, oh yeah |
[06 Apr 2008|11:59am] |
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mariah carey - touch my body |
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i just woke up. i have a huge scrape on my forehead from swimming into a rock. my tooth is chipped for some reason. (it's barely visible. praise allah!)
i dream about you almost every night.
Touch my body
Put me on the floor
Wrestle me around
Play with me some more
Touch my body
Throw me on the bed
I just wanna make you feel
Like you never did.
Touch my body
Let me wrap my thighs
All around your waist
Just a little taste
Touch my body
Know you love my curves
Come on and give me what I deserve
And touch my body
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[22 Mar 2008|02:45pm] |
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david bowie - soul love |
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it's a hot day in mesa and the kids are in every corner and they seem to be amoebic. a strange transition from luke and tivoli and comfort and cold.
airplanes almost make me superstitious. the feeling of being in two or more timezones in one day. sitting in a machine with atmosphere control and then the step out into the sky and onto the ground and feeling the instant psychogeographical shift come upon you.
i have another miniature journey this afternoon up the plateau to flagstaff. all this movement away from luke feels so contrary to all emotional instincts that i might have.
this morning is the first morning in what feels like forever that i have opened my eyes to something other than luke. how did i manage so much attachment as quickly as i did?
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[18 Mar 2008|09:34pm] |
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do you want gold?
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[15 Mar 2008|11:23am] |
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why? - the vowels pt. 2 |
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i'm in tivoli, new york. something about hamlets, weird ways to organize municipalities.
luke left for work a minute ago. i'm left to my own devices. those devices might come to the conclusion to make a kite. or handwash the mud wrestling from my dry clean only jacket. (it was chyna versus stone cold live at the smog last night.) or scavenge breakfast from the scraps.
everything here is just about to wake up. if you unfocus your eyes, everything is a brown smear just below the sky. the eart', the land. but you can feel it, the moment right before an explosion, of pure visual gratification. springtime is teasing me.
we went to the big apple and we rode worms all day. i mean, it feels like we spent most of our time on the subway. it feels like it was unnecessarily hectic and that we did a million things. but actually, we only did a few things and saw a handful of places.
people are everywhere.
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[11 Feb 2008|04:00pm] |
i got my first tattoo yesterday. it matches jeff's.
my ability to resist despair is maturing.
i find myself pondering luke and feeling the lost-in-the-supermarket sort of anxiety often. usually at the same time. it's complicated, it's futile to attempt cornering or defining it.
aaron, i'm dying to talk to you but i lost your number. call me at 602-299-1616, preferrably, or 719-214-7213.
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[28 Jan 2008|12:59pm] |
i missed my court date because some really smart roommate flipped every single breaker because the kitchen breaker cut out and my alarm didn't get reset. thanks. now i have to pay 50 dollars to reschedule another court appearance and i have to write a stupid letter to the judge explaining why i missed court. awesome!
wage slavery is my favorite thing!
my sister said it's tiring to be persecuted and i want to slap her all the way from flagstaff.
read this preposterous and very offensive letter she sent me about mormons being second class.
( Read more... )
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[25 Jan 2008|01:42pm] |
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ladybug transistor - choking on air |
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when luke leaves, where am i going to find another well of motivation to dip into?
if i move again, will i be in the same state of being: bored and out of control?
there's a show at cottage house tonight. and luke will be there. and i hope i'm drunk enough to muster the courage to tell him that he's a statue in the temple of beauty, that he ignites the fire in my loins, that he's the last unicorn.
boys. he's clouded my mind so much i have nothing left to talk about.
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[21 Jan 2008|03:15pm] |
i received a ticket from the city of flagstaff for underage consumption/possession and open container in public. police prevent justice.
why did the hippie drown in the ocean?
because he was too far out, man.
sometimes, i feel like my brain's going to leave me high and dry in a mental institution. or alone, probably on a mountain, rabid, with body dreads and parasites and heavenly connections. WHAT NOW?!
irony is a driving force in my life. and i'm shitting solid again.
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[21 Jan 2008|03:58am] |
god. stupid.
definitions. convos. discussions. meeting halfway.
i found the only cute boy in flag and he goes to school in new york. ugh, stupid. i should've learned by now that the butterflies will always be hiding until i least expect them.
flagstaff people.
i've been working, under the table. and trying to curb my paranoia. and trying not to drink so much. and trying to be more productive. how many projects half done? shirt ideas. a bike. a mobile. a diablo 2 character. a vision. a language. a boy. kill my paranoia. stop alcoholism in its tracks. smash the state
crises.
love does not imply pacifism.
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[06 Jan 2008|01:38am] |
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stark reality - junkman's song |
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another late night correspondence with christian hardy. live from fort collins, colorado.
welcome. we've got a great selection tonight: my drunkenness, my stoned-ness, my inability to succeed in the battle with my brain, donald sleeping on the bed, how i'm leaving for pueblo tomorrow, the crimethinc book that ironically i spent ten dollars on, and derrick jensen's endgame fully succeeding in telling the fucking (closest you can get to the) truth. oh, and stark reality will be playing a funky free jazz children's album from the late 60s.
yeah, fat tire and rolling rock make my brain stop its analytic gyrations. i like that. derrick jensen's writing(read propaganda) feels good, enough to cause those moments when your brain reels with possibilities, analytic gyrations.
possibilities:
howl at the moon on a mountain. be naked all the time. learn spanish. abolish clocks and live unstuck. stop smoking, and even drinking so often. buy a sewing machine. have razor sharp instincts like a tiger. really, just be wild.
en la sierra. en la selva.
fumar.
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[31 Dec 2007|02:00pm] |
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lee scratch perry - three in one |
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i'm heading back up the hill this afternoon. i hope it's snowing, or has snowed.
even a few days in mesa, spent catching up with friends (not nearly enough of them, for that matter), has made me realize i will never live in the greater phoenix area again. gladly do i say that. i can't wait to get back to fagstaff.
also, conversations with a boy has toppled me off my comfortable, multi-faceted pedestal. i won't reveal any more. it's stupid.
weed and reggae are the new peanut butter and jelly. because i said so. and i miss aaron.
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[28 Dec 2007|06:17pm] |
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alan parsons project - eye in the sky |
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I am the eye in the sky
Looking at you
I can read your mind
I am the maker of rules
Dealing with fools
I can cheat you blind
And I don't need to see any more
To know that
I can read your mind, I can read your mind, I can read your mind, I can read your mind
for serious.
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[25 Dec 2007|12:34pm] |
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peabo and roberta - tonight, i'll pee in your ass |
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i'm in mesa at my parent's house. we didn't do presents this year like normal. instead we rounded up a few hundred bucks to buy a cow for an african village.
my mother still got me a present anyway, and i her. fuck christmas. my family is so much a product of their own misconceptions. propaganda is bullshit. i hate it, especially because they buy into it so much. my family and i are so completely different. they barely think, they reflect their surroundings and they surround themselves with lies and falsity.
whatever. i don't really want to write about christmas or my family. i want to write about how i still don't really know what's happening, in general. but, generalities don't exist. i'm reading tom robbins again, in hopes that he'll throw me out of this sumo ring of ennui, into some new wonderment and mystery. he always does. why boredom?
i don't know. i just don't. i don't want to do job corps, and i kinda do. but i really don't. i really don't even though i know it's probably a good idea. i want to stay in flagstaff for a while. i want to go back to seattle. i want to see aaron. i don't know what i want. i want to be around the ones i love, and that's it. to have lived once is like having never lived at all. everything's impermanent. meaning is fleeting. i swear this happens to me every single christmas, an existential crisis. shit.
maybe it's just quitting smoking on top of the appearance of appearances, the illusion onion with a black hole center. my creative juices aren't flowing, and it's bothering me. i need to learn to tap into them. very soon, the snake pit will be a lascivious, vile haven for visionary vampires who need immoral support (well, at least i do). i need either no chaos, or a lot more. i've been drawing often, want to get painting and screenprinting. oh, my head.
i'm just brainfarting in writing. excuse me.
forties of mickeys, come to me.
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[22 Dec 2007|01:09pm] |
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feeling cut loose. drifting. i can't be sure of anything right now.
i'm at some kind of decision point right now and i'm stuck there.
i'm psychically constipated.
flagstaff is crazy like beasts and witches. sometimes it's scary.
austin and i want perform as The Gay Bears. a serious joke band.
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[22 Nov 2007|12:40pm] |
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morrissey - ouija board ouija board |
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so, like, arizona's outside of me right now.
flagstaff with brandon and austin. new faces. good drugs.
thanksgiving in mesa today.
what's happening to me?
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[18 Nov 2007|12:55am] |
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ace rock - 9-5ers anthem |
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i'm 'bout to leave virginia, tomorrow at 8:25 pm. atmosphere. aesop rock. brother ali. gza. wu-tang. good hip hop. none of that fake shit. just good.
ima miss aaron gerwien. jesus, who doesn't exist and never did. why i mention him, i don't know. it's an expression. i like expressions. i just hate that i'm jealous, human, alpha competitor, boy, man, risk-taker, caution-heeding, slave, bitch, fag queen easily-labeled ghost. i'm always new. aaron's my paragraph subject, and i should stick to it. he's my boy. i love him. and i'm grateful for him, though i'm stuck how to express it.
i had thanksgiving dinner with aaron's family. i'm going to have 2 thanksgivings. i miss last thanksgiving, thankful dinner we called it, all of us family-less motherfuckers drunk and stoned. clouds of weedsmoke. a pipe being passed in every corner. drowning in weedsmoke. potluck of love, walking those ancient celebratory ravines our genes couldn't forget. dead from pueblo's brotherly love and weedsmoke, alive. whipped into shape by old traditions no matter how stubborn we try to be. counterculture's a victim, only a counter.
i'm traveling again. again, again again. again. i've got the itch, goddamn the itch. prose-y drunken discussions in trees. old days. confessions. loves. laughs. beers. they all remind me i'm alive and that i love the fact.
arizona people, i'm looking forward to seeing you, deliriously so.
prod me, poke me, drive me. i'll be there, greyhound, however you allow me. fuck. brandon, you're deserving of an entire scripture, all devoted to you.
fumble outta bed and stumble to the kitchen
pour myself a cup of ambition
and yawn and stretch and my life is a mess
and if i never make it home today god bless
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| we are we are we are but your children, finding our way around indecision |
[10 Nov 2007|11:48am] |
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icicle works - birds fly (whisper to a scream) |
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"it's an affront to the very delicacy of my nature." -Wesley Snipes, in To Wong Foo.
inching closer to flagstaff. there are things worse than death. greyhound bus lines for instance.
surrender. go with the flow. observe, then participate. life aint hard. strength is a choice. love is a foundation. there are things much, much worse than death.
a whisper to a scream.
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| Protons Electrons Always Cause Explosions |
[06 Nov 2007|01:09am] |
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music |
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gza - 4th chamber |
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i've been listening to so much hip hop over the last few days, i want to:
breakdance
graffiti
rap sick flows over fresh beats
smoke pregnant hash-sprinkled blunts
drink icey forties of OE
ride wit my crew
all at the same time
that is all.
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[31 Oct 2007|10:47pm] |
i did some archeology, looking through old entries, some way back in 2004.
trashylady3000: once you go white, you might say aight
seattle:
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[31 Oct 2007|04:01pm] |
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joel plaskett - mystery and crime |
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the plan is flagstaff, matching tattoos, bike gangery, communal rat-human living spaces, and fag princess world domination schemes.
i don't know how many have said, since we started this ridiculous traveling adventure, in one form or another, "i wish i could do that. i've always wanted to do that."
if you want it, do it. or you're a bitch, in the way that rappers and ex-cons mean it.
you might have to sleep in some bushes, search desperately for a shower, fight off anxiety and fear, steal food, beg for help and money, convert to the cult of "fuck it". but if that's preventing you from attaining what you really want, then you don't really deserve to have it in the first place. or you don't truly want it.
life is unbearably short.
edit//
i said i never meant to hurt her. now everyboy's screaming, "murder, murder, murder, murder, murder. murder, murder, murder, murder, murder."
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[29 Oct 2007|02:04pm] |
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music |
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the boss - lost in the flood |
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HEROES!! AAAGH!!!
first season on dvd has completely controlled my life. i watched the first five discs straight. i think that's like 14 episodes. something like 9+ hours.
hottttttt
he can read my mind anyday.
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[27 Oct 2007|03:17pm] |
i've been having strange dreams lately.
last night, i pushed a mean mexican with funny eyes off a moving truck. the truck was covered in leopard print fur. the other night, i met a coke-dealing nun and had a secret lair with fast cars.
love in the time of cholera comes to theaters nov. 16th!
no country for old men nov. 21st!
that's two book adaptations with javier bardem in the same month. haven't read the books, but love the authors.
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