well i guess everything that i've decided to do, i have done well aware that i don't know how it's going to turn out. oh well. we glean new ideas and experiences, and then tomorrow is a new day. tomorrow is always a new day i guess. tonight i watched a lot of salad fingers and random videos, then bought some brian eno, so i'm feeling much better. it took me a while to let it sink in that things are usually only as bad as i let them be. or maybe i'm just really tired. there's a bird outside my window that sounds like a really ill cat.
???????? (?)
4.17.2005
i don’t feel like writing. sorry if this sounds forced, it is. i’m glad you aren’t here. if anything could make me feel better right now, it is the knowledge that you are some place different. not here. i was allowed a spell of hope today
she talked about making things
the capacity to do so excites me
a much desired and crucial emotion
all day i’d dreamt of living
all my life i’ve dreamt of sleep
after run-ins with boring georges
and having tried very hard to stay awake
i’m very frightened
very frightened
of where, and who i think i am
we all threw bottles off of balconies
i didn’t actually
just watched people stumble dangerously
close to the edges of the roof
[i especially don’t feel like writing any sort of poem. they don’t feel like they mean anything. this is such a terrible place right now. why have so many awful and weird things happened in such a short span of time.]
%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%% %% %%%% %
i am very very glad you aren’t here. i wish i weren’t here too. tonight i was about to get a burrito, but had to finish my cigarette, so i stood outside the establishment watching people. a young man and women talked past, and i heard him say, “wait- .. whatz yer name again?” and she said, “mIshELLE.” they laughed and walked inside. i decided not to get a burrito.
instead i’m eating this very salty tomato and bean stew i made. and surprisingly, the fact that it is so immensely salty had become quite the distraction for me. which is both good and bad. bad because it’s not very tasty, and good because i keep thinking about how it isn’t that tasty, as opposed to so many other things i’ve been dwelling upon.
i’m still feeling rather hopeful after talking about art. the fact that i can anticipate something in the future is stirring. i can anticipate not living here and not feeling so immensely empty. i’ll have to leave in august. so i suppose i should figure out where i’m going exactly. i would rather feel lonely because i don’t know anyone, instead of lonely present, strange alternate form of loneliness. i do feel hopeful. i do. i don’t want to be living where i’m living now. it’s not good anymore. it’s lost its luster. especially after last night. i only partially understood the negative vibe that came from the apartment next door, but now that vibe has taken on a full-blown, completely new meaning. i’m a very temporary person when it comes to most things. especially living places. i like seeing things as temporary, and when they carry on for too long i get very glum. very down in the cerebral mouth. for instance, my working at local pizza place for so long makes me sad. i begin to feel very stuck, very trapped. i feel this way a great deal lately. i’d like to live in hotels. i’d like to be somewhere else entirely. i just feel very sad about the whole ordeal of life right now. and pathetic about now being quite capable of dealing with anything as of yet. sometimes all i have that’s true is sound. sometimes all i have that’s true is sound. so exhausted by existence. i hate it when nothing seems right or nice. i thought to myself, “when it’s warm, when it’s warm outside i won’t have a thing to be upset over. everything will become straightened out and aligned on top of the table. life will be good. i will be good.” why do live like this. someone please.
i’ll anticipate the days when i will have canvass strewn about the place. empty film boxes lying about. pencils and paper and paints and books and notebooks and brushes and windows open the sun shines in and the cat is asleep on the couch while i listen to the stereo and something splendid is playing. something new i just got a hold of. the air is fresh and nice. i don’t smoke as much. i drink more water, because i’ve never drank enough water. i should do that. i know only the good and the helpful loving people. we go to the beach or the park or the whateverthefuck. and we make sincere plans to do great things. i’m awake during the day. having taken it upon myself to do all the things i promised myself i would learn how to do. because i want to and i don’t care. i’m not as insecure. i’m still genuine. i’m honest, a little more tactful. i’ve managed to afford a video camera. i spend days making lots of films, most of the time completely about nothing, but the process makes it completely worth it regardless. i accomplished things, solely for my own pleasure. the trees are green in summer, explode in colors for autumn, in winter they are bare and it is white and pure and cold and i can see my breath pass through a scarf, come spring they bud and everything is reborn and lovely. i anticipate it happening all over again. and i still love.
+++++
she talked about making things
the capacity to do so excites me
a much desired and crucial emotion
all day i’d dreamt of living
all my life i’ve dreamt of sleep
after run-ins with boring georges
and having tried very hard to stay awake
i’m very frightened
very frightened
of where, and who i think i am
we all threw bottles off of balconies
i didn’t actually
just watched people stumble dangerously
close to the edges of the roof
[i especially don’t feel like writing any sort of poem. they don’t feel like they mean anything. this is such a terrible place right now. why have so many awful and weird things happened in such a short span of time.]
i crawled in bed to tell her about my horrible evening
wondered if she was still awake
so i asked
what do you do when you feel pointless
she said it’s not in my skin to feel that way
i said that must be nice
%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%% %% %%%% %
i am very very glad you aren’t here. i wish i weren’t here too. tonight i was about to get a burrito, but had to finish my cigarette, so i stood outside the establishment watching people. a young man and women talked past, and i heard him say, “wait- .. whatz yer name again?” and she said, “mIshELLE.” they laughed and walked inside. i decided not to get a burrito.
instead i’m eating this very salty tomato and bean stew i made. and surprisingly, the fact that it is so immensely salty had become quite the distraction for me. which is both good and bad. bad because it’s not very tasty, and good because i keep thinking about how it isn’t that tasty, as opposed to so many other things i’ve been dwelling upon.
i’m still feeling rather hopeful after talking about art. the fact that i can anticipate something in the future is stirring. i can anticipate not living here and not feeling so immensely empty. i’ll have to leave in august. so i suppose i should figure out where i’m going exactly. i would rather feel lonely because i don’t know anyone, instead of lonely present, strange alternate form of loneliness. i do feel hopeful. i do. i don’t want to be living where i’m living now. it’s not good anymore. it’s lost its luster. especially after last night. i only partially understood the negative vibe that came from the apartment next door, but now that vibe has taken on a full-blown, completely new meaning. i’m a very temporary person when it comes to most things. especially living places. i like seeing things as temporary, and when they carry on for too long i get very glum. very down in the cerebral mouth. for instance, my working at local pizza place for so long makes me sad. i begin to feel very stuck, very trapped. i feel this way a great deal lately. i’d like to live in hotels. i’d like to be somewhere else entirely. i just feel very sad about the whole ordeal of life right now. and pathetic about now being quite capable of dealing with anything as of yet. sometimes all i have that’s true is sound. sometimes all i have that’s true is sound. so exhausted by existence. i hate it when nothing seems right or nice. i thought to myself, “when it’s warm, when it’s warm outside i won’t have a thing to be upset over. everything will become straightened out and aligned on top of the table. life will be good. i will be good.” why do live like this. someone please.
i’ll anticipate the days when i will have canvass strewn about the place. empty film boxes lying about. pencils and paper and paints and books and notebooks and brushes and windows open the sun shines in and the cat is asleep on the couch while i listen to the stereo and something splendid is playing. something new i just got a hold of. the air is fresh and nice. i don’t smoke as much. i drink more water, because i’ve never drank enough water. i should do that. i know only the good and the helpful loving people. we go to the beach or the park or the whateverthefuck. and we make sincere plans to do great things. i’m awake during the day. having taken it upon myself to do all the things i promised myself i would learn how to do. because i want to and i don’t care. i’m not as insecure. i’m still genuine. i’m honest, a little more tactful. i’ve managed to afford a video camera. i spend days making lots of films, most of the time completely about nothing, but the process makes it completely worth it regardless. i accomplished things, solely for my own pleasure. the trees are green in summer, explode in colors for autumn, in winter they are bare and it is white and pure and cold and i can see my breath pass through a scarf, come spring they bud and everything is reborn and lovely. i anticipate it happening all over again. and i still love.
+++++
4.14.2005
4.13.2005
i just went through my entire blog and gathered all the poetry so i can rework it. i accumulated 55 pages. i think that's pretty good. most of it is from the past six months. and i found that i talk about radiohead A LOT. it was ridiculous how many times i ran across myself saying, "i'm listening to Lucky," quoting some lyrics, or making some passing statement about how i adore them. i thought it was funny. oh the memories.
[this may be a stupid place to say this, but joel, i love you so much. you are the most radiant and marvelous and admirable person i know. it's absolutely unbelievable. i appreciate you so much. i was just thinking that just now. so i wrote it. one day you'll grow wings. you'll know where you are. don't get sentimental, it always ends up drivel...]
[this may be a stupid place to say this, but joel, i love you so much. you are the most radiant and marvelous and admirable person i know. it's absolutely unbelievable. i appreciate you so much. i was just thinking that just now. so i wrote it. one day you'll grow wings. you'll know where you are. don't get sentimental, it always ends up drivel...]
it's gonna be a glorious day.
accepted the present state of being
a hypothetical fuck up
are you worried?
no one can tell anymore.
just too god damn selfish.
the whole lot.
the idea of humanity
is a common misconception.
eyes go in and out of focus
and how i should feel?
good riddance to bad rubbish
please just take me out of here.
having felt much better now
but my god, requiring something else
novel and fresh
youre so scattered she said
smashed into the carpet
so spattered on the walls
stained on nice clean
permanently pressed polypropylene
just dont know where you are.
not physically speaking either
me, so sorry and feeling
ive scared some people tonight
drank a fair share
felt too good for my own good
only in my own head
now left alone
the concept of humanity
is a commonly misplaced idea
i half expected anyone to call tonight
my mistake
my my my
[i can’t tell if now is a good or a bad time to try new things. i have a terrible feeling i might self-destruct. but i always feel that way. so i suppose it doesn’t really matter when or where things go down. i have an image of myself in a mental institution years from now. oh well. we shall see. it frightens me to think that drug made me feel so tremendous. better than i have ever felt in my entire life. not euphoric to any degree, just incredibly content with life and delighted by every emotion. ok computer never sounded so sweet. we all live life at our own paces. i’m glad i had that experience all to myself.]
++++ +
mourning mourning mourning the loss of everything i never had the gumption to say. fearing i haven't made myself clear enough for the world to understand. sapping the life out of myself, and how is that possible? why do we always forget how great we are. why do you always forget how good i am? so transcendently loving. it hurts me so much.
this is my final fit
my final belly ache
+
4.12.2005
fortherecord:4-12-05
taking comfort in nothing
i cut my hair off to spite excessive nature
the world tells me i glow
a little girl
shining like bleached teeth
an old woman
wondering where the weight of the world has gone
but i have not misplaced it
the only thing that disappoints me
is the feelings of created inadvertent fallacies
a walking breathing misunderstanding
the accurate outsiders perception is gone
and what of it i suppose
nonetheless
i would like to wear my heart on my sleeve
just like they told me not to do.
i had better tell myself to cool down
and take it easy
i could reverse the world with a heartbeat
right now in anticipation
of all i’ve never done
here’s the big chance
here is my time
to stuff my face
with foreign fibers
and create the night
i’ve dreamt and read about
in books
it’s the
i saw it in a movie once
instance
i promised mom i wouldn’t
i promised dad i wouldn’t dream
and come tomorrow
i’ll have lied twice
i began to think that if my blood flowed backwards i could reverse time.
you have to put yourself first.
is what he told me.
you have to put yourself first.
please.
my motor skills are failing
rather.
i seem to have failed them
so sorry.
i can do whatever i please.
i can do whatever i please.
and i will, i will.
just wait. look out.
you’ll see.
hey…. hey… hey…
this moment is mine.
i think i should be scared.
but i feel to nice and neat- complete right now.
we should do this again some time.
not too worried. not so much.
not scatterbrained.
:any fool can easy pick a hole. i only wish i could fall in.:
right here. i’m not. scatterbrained.
i wish you could see me now.
but not really.
they say
the first hit is always free.
i’d like to put myself together.
i did for now. we are things so temporary.
why are things so temporary.
i broke some promises.
for that i’m sorry sort of.
you understand. it was bound to happen, sometime.
the sort of person i am.
+++++++++++
put on you sunglasses
radiohead is alive and well within me
.
taking comfort in nothing
i cut my hair off to spite excessive nature
the world tells me i glow
a little girl
shining like bleached teeth
an old woman
wondering where the weight of the world has gone
but i have not misplaced it
the only thing that disappoints me
is the feelings of created inadvertent fallacies
a walking breathing misunderstanding
the accurate outsiders perception is gone
and what of it i suppose
nonetheless
i would like to wear my heart on my sleeve
just like they told me not to do.
i had better tell myself to cool down
and take it easy
i could reverse the world with a heartbeat
right now in anticipation
of all i’ve never done
here’s the big chance
here is my time
to stuff my face
with foreign fibers
and create the night
i’ve dreamt and read about
in books
it’s the
i saw it in a movie once
instance
i promised mom i wouldn’t
i promised dad i wouldn’t dream
and come tomorrow
i’ll have lied twice
everything that seemed like such a good idea
never really did
i just wanted it to be done
i began to think that if my blood flowed backwards i could reverse time.
here we go now.
…..
…
.
you have to put yourself first.
is what he told me.
you have to put yourself first.
please.
my motor skills are failing
rather.
i seem to have failed them
so sorry.
i can do whatever i please.
i can do whatever i please.
and i will, i will.
just wait. look out.
you’ll see.
hey…. hey… hey…
this moment is mine.
i think i should be scared.
but i feel to nice and neat- complete right now.
we should do this again some time.
not too worried. not so much.
not scatterbrained.
:any fool can easy pick a hole. i only wish i could fall in.:
right here. i’m not. scatterbrained.
i wish you could see me now.
but not really.
they say
the first hit is always free.
i’d like to put myself together.
i did for now. we are things so temporary.
why are things so temporary.
i broke some promises.
for that i’m sorry sort of.
you understand. it was bound to happen, sometime.
the sort of person i am.
sometimes we can’t listen to our favorite songs anymore
spoiled by nostalgia. tainted by the passing of time.
do the best you can
to love now
think in temporary terms
instances of incapable reconstruction
the impossible relivings of life, forever irreplaceable
irreparable damages done to bodies
moments lacking regret
and looking back to sigh
we laugh
+++++++++++
put on you sunglasses
radiohead is alive and well within me
.
4.11.2005
april 8th
understanding technology might be nice. so. so then. well. let’s see here. from now on, when people ask me ‘how i am’ I suppose i’ll tell then the name of a song. now for instance, i’m feeling very “lucky,” the ridge school benefit kind of “lucky.” i suppose i’ll leave it up to whoever to determine what or who i’m talking about. i don’t want to give too much away. i determined tonight that this is one reason why i love music to such an extent. in moments where i lack the ability to express my emotions entirely, to myself or others, there is some grouping of words and beats and chords, a melody, dissonance and whatever else, that somehow accurately describes my heart. that may sound sappy, but it’s nice to take comfort in such a simple thing. i like simple things. i suppose i could say that at the moment i’m just feeling very radiohead. every radiohead song i’ve listened to this evening/morning has been great for me. i was beginning to get all torn up about which song best fit. am i feeling “lucky” or “street spirit”? or am i more “kinetic” or “i might be wrong”? oh wait. i feel like every radiohead song. everything is very surreal to me. and has been for the past few days. the other day, someone noticed my hair was gone, and asked me when i did it. i didn’t even remember for about thirty seconds. this struck me as peculiar, because i suppose in a round about way, it’s a “big deal.” but nothing has really been a big deal to me lately. well, that’s not necessarily true, but most things i simply don’t care about at all. not necessarily in an harsh, apathetic way. i just don’t think twice about much. from what i remember of myself, i’m not especially like that.
i’m very weary. that is the best adjective to describe me at the moment. weary. so so so weary. i keep asking myself what’s happening. i’m craving the absence of existence. not to sound so horrible. i don’t mean that in a negative way. i’m not so worried. it’s another one of those things that i haven’t really cared at all about lately. this world is just strange. i can’t really think of why i’m in it. well i can. i can. i hope this isn’t coming off as extremely melodramatic. really, if i were talking right now, i’d be very casual. just talking. over coffee and a cigarette. the inevitable flaw of text. i still haven’t managed to get a handle on making my emotions painfully clear through words as of yet.
please could you stop the noise i’m tryin to get some rest from all the unborn chicken voices in my head. i am a minivan driving into the elementary school wall. i am a jet engine. i’m the nonstop ridiculous phrases that pour out of my mouth when i’m in a panic. walking to get cigarettes, i talk to myself. the man on the street heard every word of fucking fucking fuck this and that. i’m sorry. so embarrassed by my own babblings. i meant everything i said. please help me. why don’t you want into this. i’d like to say i’m all alone, but all the other sides of me have come about. i have befriended them. why can’t they come upstairs into what i know. help me spruce up the place. help me clean up this mess. can’t keep the place up. there is no up. i don’t want the burden of existence. i don’t want any of this for whatever it’s worth. i breathe for love’s sake. the chance that i might be able to give it. i’d like to think that i’m okay. i’d like to think rosey this and that. and it is from time to time. when the sun shines correctly at the right angles. or my pants fit comfortably and the sky is the perfect shade of blue or orange. the coffee tastes the way i imagine it will. the cigarettes smell like they did the first time i tried them. and kisses have flavor. and night has sleep. i’m very tired.
time to do laundry and drink some carrot juice. you all have a great day. hope the sun shines on your side of the street. hope the morning doves coo at your window sills and the stop lights all turn green when you need them to. and the bible verses make sense. and parents give you money. and you see shiny things. old ladies open doors and the lightning doesn’t get you and the alcohol doesn’t make you sick. hope you see the same man i just saw in tube socks and red shorts. and the lady, nails all done up and magenta lipstick and tech vest perm gold earrings worst perfume i ever smelled. ball cap cutting donuts with a fork and hiking boots in april. it’s wet out there. it’s some treacherous terrain. you better just eat your roll she said. i don’t know why. it’s a crazy place out there. don’t forget your pepper spray and your hound dog ready to bite out the bad guy’s jugular vein. just in case he might have attacked you- you never know, there’s some crazy people out there who want to steal your things and get in your pants and laugh in your face. so you had better not let them. it’s a crazy place out there. take care please. take care.
april 9th
at a hotel in ohio. i think i’m in Findlay. watching a movie called “sex, lies, and videotapes.” it’s a drama. there’s a character named “graham.” i really like him. he reminds me of myself. he just professed his impotence. wow. this film is great. i love hbo. i’m sitting at a white, cylinder coffee table at the computer with a camera lots of cigarettes coffee and a joint. this movie is fascinating. just fascinating. it’s exactly what i needed. exactly. it is so bizarre, i could cry. i can’t even think of how to write about how this meets me at the moment. “my life is shit. it’s just shit. nothing is what i thought it was.”
so after that excellent film came this ridiculous movie about a crazy guy and his imaginary blowup doll girlfriend, who he begins to think is real and he talks to her and then goes crazy and kills people, and now we’re on to hilarious lesbian porn. it’s one of the best and worst things i have ever seen. everyone is naked and moving around but nothing is really happening. it’s great. just a lot of nipple licking, no vagina action at all, it’s weird. then interspersed with plastic armor and bad jokes and fake dismembered body parts. what? oh the first vagina just got touched. –wait no, she was kissing above her pubic hair. this is so weird. i can’t stop watching. i need to turn this off so that i can focus. okay. ah. i do not love hbo, it makes for too much ridiculous TV that is so unusual and strange that i can’t stop watching. what a bizarre adventure i am on.
when i arrived here, to my hotel room (224) at the day’s inn, i was so titillated and giddy about the whole ordeal i almost cried. i would like for this to be a productive adventure and a relieving one. tonight will be relieving and entertaining and tomorrow shall be work. that’s the plan.
my lack of existence has commenced and i’m not dead. so that’s nice. i would like to be able to locate myself for a time and hope this adventure helps me do that. then my resurrection. i don’t know where i’ve gone. at the same time i feel that i haven’t really gone anywhere. there’s nothing wrong with my new found sense of apathy as long as it is under self-surveillance. i often forget about the constant progression and adaptations that occur within myself. at times, it is so easy to overlook that my brain is constantly moving forward. at least i feel that it is. maybe it’s going backwards, left or right. either way, change is a consistency, which i consistently neglect to recognize. i hope no one murders me while i’m here. that would be less than nice. i’ll try and press “save” before my final breath. anyway. change and adjust and alter. i will always be doing these things within myself. i naturally resist, subconsciously however, and would like to make a mental note to not do so. and maybe apathy is a strong word, or maybe i’m just making it seem too general. as in, i’m not apathetic towards most things. or at least many. i pick and choose. the trivial things have become less than relevant, bearing no real weight on my life. but i think that i am seeing some things as trivial that i shouldn’t. life for instance. no not really. at least not now, but from time to time i find myself feeling that the whole god damn thing is worthless and pointless and am incapable of tolerating it any longer. the only things i find to be absolutely honest and worth my respect are the human body and music. i’d like to say love, but that is far too tricky of an essence to be forever true. we deceive ourselves most of the time. love is frightening. i’m scared of it, so i respect it in the sense that it is a very powerful and benevolent and shattering thing. i don’t necessarily mean shattering in a “oh you broke up with your individual and now your heart has been crushed” sort of thing. i mean life altering or changing. positive and negative. people can figure out who they are or what they’re like, or be lost within someone else, or be destroyed by someone or rebuilt or completed. so many things. and it is quite frightening. maybe i’m overanalyzing again. i do that. i don’t know. or people can just not give two shits. it doesn’t really matter i guess. either you are impacted or you aren’t. i don’t think one is better or correct or anything. i was just thinking. it depends on the person i guess. like sex, comparatively. you could fuck or love or anything in between. i think it’s all about the aftermath. that’s one more thing that makes this worth it. the ability to know people and the capacity to allow them to affect you. that is what i crave in life. i see so many people. and i love people. i love to look at them and talk with them. see who they are. what they have become in their span of existence. what makes them individuals and how individualistic they are and why. how they interact back, or relate to me or don’t at all. it’s fascinating. and discovering the ones i truly connect with is the most magnificent part. because those connections are so very rare. the majority of people i meet i have little or nothing to offer me. then there are the ones i connect with on certain levels, but not all, so i give them what i have and they give back to me on random and temporary occasions. but the precious few that truly meet me are the most beautiful and radiant people on the face of the earth. i don’t mean any of this in superior or inferior levels. the ones i don’t bond with aren’t bad people or less than i. we simply weren’t meant to join in a cerebral fashion. i don’t hold myself above them or anyone. i suppose that’s a lie, but i wish it weren’t. i should say that in my sometimes arrogant mind there are those who i should appreciate, or simply just ignore. i feel like an asshole, but i’m being honest. there’s the lady at mcdonald’s with a headset on and grease stains all over her uniform and eight teeth missing with a bad haircut (that she probably paid money for) who is 280 lbs. and malnourished, (that’s david cross talking) who i am unjustly disgusted by. but i suppose i do appreciate her in a round about way. her partially chosen life will forever fascinate me. i say partially. but regardless her way of being is captivating. i do think all humans are beautiful, but am many times extremely saddened when i witness a life. that applies to most everyone. sometimes i’ll see an old man sitting on a bench waiting for a taxi at the grocer’s and become so immensely depressed. i am not exactly sure why. maybe it’s their feeble state. the fact that they have lived so many years, and at one point were young and full of hope and love and laughter, and now they are incapable of much and seem to be simply waiting for their time to be up. they always look so alone. and next to that they are old and brittle. swollen and ugly with age. maybe that’s why i’m so fascinated by those who get really really old and ugly together and still love. not that age is ugly, because faces sag and hair falls out. it’s just what happens. just to witness the face of age is so unreal to me. i can’t look at old people and not be taken back through every chapter of their lives. i don’t think people really consider that. old was once young. time is so intangible and invisible! and these people kissed and loved and ran and did so much. even if they did nothing. never loved or kissed or left the office. that’s still an entire life. that is many many years of time spent with the capacity and the choice to do. or not do. but now they’re old and life is pretty much through. people say “it’s never too late,” but for the vast majority it is. people make decisions. and they live by them. and i wonder how often they are pleased. how often are people pleased with their lives when all is said and done. when they’re are forty-eight and 280 lbs. working at mcdonalds serving chicken nuggets to families after church on Sunday. is that pleasing. it doesn’t really matter. this is just the reminder i give to myself. wondering if i would ever do that. or whether or not it is a bad thing at all. i mean, we are all dead in the end. and where any reward lies after death is beyond me. so i will try to strive for contentment i guess. everything just seems so irrelevant. i just watched a good film and someone took much time to prepare it for an audience, and i saw it and was effected and pleased by it. but i question what exactly was gained necessarily. you could watch all the greatest movies or make all the greatest movies, and it seems both end the same. i am so alarmed by this. i think this is what has been killing me lately. just the inevitability of death and ending and the paths we take to get there. i’m not too frightened by death. only when i really think about being gone for ever starting now, and not being given some time to do stuff. but what would i do? and does it matter. i just don’t know, and this whole monologue is becoming irrelevant as well. it has no point. sometimes i’d like to become a devout Christian or any such religion so that i would feel like i was going somewhere. you weren’t the first to think that. not that i was either, but just to clarify. sometimes i think i will some day. i just lost pretty much all of my pinky toenail. i have no idea how that just happened and it didn’t hurt at all.
so to tie all of this up nice and neat, i will end by saying this, that all the feelings of irreverence and the perplexing pointlessness of existence are in my mind, themselves neither here nor there. they are irrelevant. it has negated itself i guess. and i take comfort in that idea. so in life i will be doing my best to strive for what i want. that makes perfect sense now. see it’s all coming together. i know what to work towards. and i suppose that will take all the trivial bullshit in between tolerable. i feel much better now. i have no expectations though. maybe i won’t get exactly what i want. but i’m sure i’ll get damn close enough. because i know what i don’t want. and what i especially don’t want are the things that i can easily avoid. like becoming a housewife. or a policewoman. i don’t want those, and i don’t think they will, through some twisted series of unlikely and ill-fated events, happen. i’m okay with living in a cardboard box. i think that might be funny. i have nothing to prove to anyone. we are all dead in the end. and when all is said and done, no one’s name will be remembered and there will be no history books or documentaries about famous poets and army men. there will be absolutely nothing. and everything will be gone. black the end. there are only two things i require for the maintenance of existence: love and creation. if i keep making and loving everything will be worth it. these two things fill me with such joy i can’t even comprehend. and i forget so often. it is easy for things to get in the way. the inconsequential bullshit. i should remember that it’s unimportant and passing. but also that things need to be done at times.
i’m so excited now. i anticipate a life of creation, the fact that i have to ability to make whatever the hell i want. and i can appreciate it. and others will, even if it’s a dear few. i can still impact people’s lives with what i make. and i can love. i can willingly have the capacity to love. give who i am to whoever i want, and experience first hand the lives of others. i think that is great. even if it matters to no one else i ever encounter. i do hope however that if anyone reads this they will see also what i desire, and could possibly give me part of one of them. i know you do. but it’s an exchange i feel. regardless and nonetheless, i’ll have my love for others to myself. my love is my own. i keep thinking of the movie “adaptation.” maybe that’s why i just wrote that. but i feel it’s true. so there everyone. that is what i have to offer the world while i am of it: love and art. i do both very passionately, and at least one very very well i feel. it isn’t always dark up there. i have done my rearranging.
april 10th
i feel much better. i hope i am changed. i feel i am. i shouldn’t say i hope. hope seems so useless to me. like it creates expectations, of which i have none. i don’t anticipate anything but my idea of life. if i hope anything, it is that can maintain peace. i was going to say “maintain and stand firm in my beliefs.” but that would be a ridiculous thing to say. for one i have no belief structure, and for two ideas are forever changing. right now, as much as i would love to continue thinking and pondering, i should really get some trivial work done, so that i can later do what i want. it’s almost done. it’s almost over. i will say once again though, before i leave, that i love very very much. and it fills me with such immense happiness to love. existential adventure.
understanding technology might be nice. so. so then. well. let’s see here. from now on, when people ask me ‘how i am’ I suppose i’ll tell then the name of a song. now for instance, i’m feeling very “lucky,” the ridge school benefit kind of “lucky.” i suppose i’ll leave it up to whoever to determine what or who i’m talking about. i don’t want to give too much away. i determined tonight that this is one reason why i love music to such an extent. in moments where i lack the ability to express my emotions entirely, to myself or others, there is some grouping of words and beats and chords, a melody, dissonance and whatever else, that somehow accurately describes my heart. that may sound sappy, but it’s nice to take comfort in such a simple thing. i like simple things. i suppose i could say that at the moment i’m just feeling very radiohead. every radiohead song i’ve listened to this evening/morning has been great for me. i was beginning to get all torn up about which song best fit. am i feeling “lucky” or “street spirit”? or am i more “kinetic” or “i might be wrong”? oh wait. i feel like every radiohead song. everything is very surreal to me. and has been for the past few days. the other day, someone noticed my hair was gone, and asked me when i did it. i didn’t even remember for about thirty seconds. this struck me as peculiar, because i suppose in a round about way, it’s a “big deal.” but nothing has really been a big deal to me lately. well, that’s not necessarily true, but most things i simply don’t care about at all. not necessarily in an harsh, apathetic way. i just don’t think twice about much. from what i remember of myself, i’m not especially like that.
i’m very weary. that is the best adjective to describe me at the moment. weary. so so so weary. i keep asking myself what’s happening. i’m craving the absence of existence. not to sound so horrible. i don’t mean that in a negative way. i’m not so worried. it’s another one of those things that i haven’t really cared at all about lately. this world is just strange. i can’t really think of why i’m in it. well i can. i can. i hope this isn’t coming off as extremely melodramatic. really, if i were talking right now, i’d be very casual. just talking. over coffee and a cigarette. the inevitable flaw of text. i still haven’t managed to get a handle on making my emotions painfully clear through words as of yet.
please could you stop the noise i’m tryin to get some rest from all the unborn chicken voices in my head. i am a minivan driving into the elementary school wall. i am a jet engine. i’m the nonstop ridiculous phrases that pour out of my mouth when i’m in a panic. walking to get cigarettes, i talk to myself. the man on the street heard every word of fucking fucking fuck this and that. i’m sorry. so embarrassed by my own babblings. i meant everything i said. please help me. why don’t you want into this. i’d like to say i’m all alone, but all the other sides of me have come about. i have befriended them. why can’t they come upstairs into what i know. help me spruce up the place. help me clean up this mess. can’t keep the place up. there is no up. i don’t want the burden of existence. i don’t want any of this for whatever it’s worth. i breathe for love’s sake. the chance that i might be able to give it. i’d like to think that i’m okay. i’d like to think rosey this and that. and it is from time to time. when the sun shines correctly at the right angles. or my pants fit comfortably and the sky is the perfect shade of blue or orange. the coffee tastes the way i imagine it will. the cigarettes smell like they did the first time i tried them. and kisses have flavor. and night has sleep. i’m very tired.
time to do laundry and drink some carrot juice. you all have a great day. hope the sun shines on your side of the street. hope the morning doves coo at your window sills and the stop lights all turn green when you need them to. and the bible verses make sense. and parents give you money. and you see shiny things. old ladies open doors and the lightning doesn’t get you and the alcohol doesn’t make you sick. hope you see the same man i just saw in tube socks and red shorts. and the lady, nails all done up and magenta lipstick and tech vest perm gold earrings worst perfume i ever smelled. ball cap cutting donuts with a fork and hiking boots in april. it’s wet out there. it’s some treacherous terrain. you better just eat your roll she said. i don’t know why. it’s a crazy place out there. don’t forget your pepper spray and your hound dog ready to bite out the bad guy’s jugular vein. just in case he might have attacked you- you never know, there’s some crazy people out there who want to steal your things and get in your pants and laugh in your face. so you had better not let them. it’s a crazy place out there. take care please. take care.
april 9th
at a hotel in ohio. i think i’m in Findlay. watching a movie called “sex, lies, and videotapes.” it’s a drama. there’s a character named “graham.” i really like him. he reminds me of myself. he just professed his impotence. wow. this film is great. i love hbo. i’m sitting at a white, cylinder coffee table at the computer with a camera lots of cigarettes coffee and a joint. this movie is fascinating. just fascinating. it’s exactly what i needed. exactly. it is so bizarre, i could cry. i can’t even think of how to write about how this meets me at the moment. “my life is shit. it’s just shit. nothing is what i thought it was.”
so after that excellent film came this ridiculous movie about a crazy guy and his imaginary blowup doll girlfriend, who he begins to think is real and he talks to her and then goes crazy and kills people, and now we’re on to hilarious lesbian porn. it’s one of the best and worst things i have ever seen. everyone is naked and moving around but nothing is really happening. it’s great. just a lot of nipple licking, no vagina action at all, it’s weird. then interspersed with plastic armor and bad jokes and fake dismembered body parts. what? oh the first vagina just got touched. –wait no, she was kissing above her pubic hair. this is so weird. i can’t stop watching. i need to turn this off so that i can focus. okay. ah. i do not love hbo, it makes for too much ridiculous TV that is so unusual and strange that i can’t stop watching. what a bizarre adventure i am on.
when i arrived here, to my hotel room (224) at the day’s inn, i was so titillated and giddy about the whole ordeal i almost cried. i would like for this to be a productive adventure and a relieving one. tonight will be relieving and entertaining and tomorrow shall be work. that’s the plan.
my lack of existence has commenced and i’m not dead. so that’s nice. i would like to be able to locate myself for a time and hope this adventure helps me do that. then my resurrection. i don’t know where i’ve gone. at the same time i feel that i haven’t really gone anywhere. there’s nothing wrong with my new found sense of apathy as long as it is under self-surveillance. i often forget about the constant progression and adaptations that occur within myself. at times, it is so easy to overlook that my brain is constantly moving forward. at least i feel that it is. maybe it’s going backwards, left or right. either way, change is a consistency, which i consistently neglect to recognize. i hope no one murders me while i’m here. that would be less than nice. i’ll try and press “save” before my final breath. anyway. change and adjust and alter. i will always be doing these things within myself. i naturally resist, subconsciously however, and would like to make a mental note to not do so. and maybe apathy is a strong word, or maybe i’m just making it seem too general. as in, i’m not apathetic towards most things. or at least many. i pick and choose. the trivial things have become less than relevant, bearing no real weight on my life. but i think that i am seeing some things as trivial that i shouldn’t. life for instance. no not really. at least not now, but from time to time i find myself feeling that the whole god damn thing is worthless and pointless and am incapable of tolerating it any longer. the only things i find to be absolutely honest and worth my respect are the human body and music. i’d like to say love, but that is far too tricky of an essence to be forever true. we deceive ourselves most of the time. love is frightening. i’m scared of it, so i respect it in the sense that it is a very powerful and benevolent and shattering thing. i don’t necessarily mean shattering in a “oh you broke up with your individual and now your heart has been crushed” sort of thing. i mean life altering or changing. positive and negative. people can figure out who they are or what they’re like, or be lost within someone else, or be destroyed by someone or rebuilt or completed. so many things. and it is quite frightening. maybe i’m overanalyzing again. i do that. i don’t know. or people can just not give two shits. it doesn’t really matter i guess. either you are impacted or you aren’t. i don’t think one is better or correct or anything. i was just thinking. it depends on the person i guess. like sex, comparatively. you could fuck or love or anything in between. i think it’s all about the aftermath. that’s one more thing that makes this worth it. the ability to know people and the capacity to allow them to affect you. that is what i crave in life. i see so many people. and i love people. i love to look at them and talk with them. see who they are. what they have become in their span of existence. what makes them individuals and how individualistic they are and why. how they interact back, or relate to me or don’t at all. it’s fascinating. and discovering the ones i truly connect with is the most magnificent part. because those connections are so very rare. the majority of people i meet i have little or nothing to offer me. then there are the ones i connect with on certain levels, but not all, so i give them what i have and they give back to me on random and temporary occasions. but the precious few that truly meet me are the most beautiful and radiant people on the face of the earth. i don’t mean any of this in superior or inferior levels. the ones i don’t bond with aren’t bad people or less than i. we simply weren’t meant to join in a cerebral fashion. i don’t hold myself above them or anyone. i suppose that’s a lie, but i wish it weren’t. i should say that in my sometimes arrogant mind there are those who i should appreciate, or simply just ignore. i feel like an asshole, but i’m being honest. there’s the lady at mcdonald’s with a headset on and grease stains all over her uniform and eight teeth missing with a bad haircut (that she probably paid money for) who is 280 lbs. and malnourished, (that’s david cross talking) who i am unjustly disgusted by. but i suppose i do appreciate her in a round about way. her partially chosen life will forever fascinate me. i say partially. but regardless her way of being is captivating. i do think all humans are beautiful, but am many times extremely saddened when i witness a life. that applies to most everyone. sometimes i’ll see an old man sitting on a bench waiting for a taxi at the grocer’s and become so immensely depressed. i am not exactly sure why. maybe it’s their feeble state. the fact that they have lived so many years, and at one point were young and full of hope and love and laughter, and now they are incapable of much and seem to be simply waiting for their time to be up. they always look so alone. and next to that they are old and brittle. swollen and ugly with age. maybe that’s why i’m so fascinated by those who get really really old and ugly together and still love. not that age is ugly, because faces sag and hair falls out. it’s just what happens. just to witness the face of age is so unreal to me. i can’t look at old people and not be taken back through every chapter of their lives. i don’t think people really consider that. old was once young. time is so intangible and invisible! and these people kissed and loved and ran and did so much. even if they did nothing. never loved or kissed or left the office. that’s still an entire life. that is many many years of time spent with the capacity and the choice to do. or not do. but now they’re old and life is pretty much through. people say “it’s never too late,” but for the vast majority it is. people make decisions. and they live by them. and i wonder how often they are pleased. how often are people pleased with their lives when all is said and done. when they’re are forty-eight and 280 lbs. working at mcdonalds serving chicken nuggets to families after church on Sunday. is that pleasing. it doesn’t really matter. this is just the reminder i give to myself. wondering if i would ever do that. or whether or not it is a bad thing at all. i mean, we are all dead in the end. and where any reward lies after death is beyond me. so i will try to strive for contentment i guess. everything just seems so irrelevant. i just watched a good film and someone took much time to prepare it for an audience, and i saw it and was effected and pleased by it. but i question what exactly was gained necessarily. you could watch all the greatest movies or make all the greatest movies, and it seems both end the same. i am so alarmed by this. i think this is what has been killing me lately. just the inevitability of death and ending and the paths we take to get there. i’m not too frightened by death. only when i really think about being gone for ever starting now, and not being given some time to do stuff. but what would i do? and does it matter. i just don’t know, and this whole monologue is becoming irrelevant as well. it has no point. sometimes i’d like to become a devout Christian or any such religion so that i would feel like i was going somewhere. you weren’t the first to think that. not that i was either, but just to clarify. sometimes i think i will some day. i just lost pretty much all of my pinky toenail. i have no idea how that just happened and it didn’t hurt at all.
so to tie all of this up nice and neat, i will end by saying this, that all the feelings of irreverence and the perplexing pointlessness of existence are in my mind, themselves neither here nor there. they are irrelevant. it has negated itself i guess. and i take comfort in that idea. so in life i will be doing my best to strive for what i want. that makes perfect sense now. see it’s all coming together. i know what to work towards. and i suppose that will take all the trivial bullshit in between tolerable. i feel much better now. i have no expectations though. maybe i won’t get exactly what i want. but i’m sure i’ll get damn close enough. because i know what i don’t want. and what i especially don’t want are the things that i can easily avoid. like becoming a housewife. or a policewoman. i don’t want those, and i don’t think they will, through some twisted series of unlikely and ill-fated events, happen. i’m okay with living in a cardboard box. i think that might be funny. i have nothing to prove to anyone. we are all dead in the end. and when all is said and done, no one’s name will be remembered and there will be no history books or documentaries about famous poets and army men. there will be absolutely nothing. and everything will be gone. black the end. there are only two things i require for the maintenance of existence: love and creation. if i keep making and loving everything will be worth it. these two things fill me with such joy i can’t even comprehend. and i forget so often. it is easy for things to get in the way. the inconsequential bullshit. i should remember that it’s unimportant and passing. but also that things need to be done at times.
i’m so excited now. i anticipate a life of creation, the fact that i have to ability to make whatever the hell i want. and i can appreciate it. and others will, even if it’s a dear few. i can still impact people’s lives with what i make. and i can love. i can willingly have the capacity to love. give who i am to whoever i want, and experience first hand the lives of others. i think that is great. even if it matters to no one else i ever encounter. i do hope however that if anyone reads this they will see also what i desire, and could possibly give me part of one of them. i know you do. but it’s an exchange i feel. regardless and nonetheless, i’ll have my love for others to myself. my love is my own. i keep thinking of the movie “adaptation.” maybe that’s why i just wrote that. but i feel it’s true. so there everyone. that is what i have to offer the world while i am of it: love and art. i do both very passionately, and at least one very very well i feel. it isn’t always dark up there. i have done my rearranging.
april 10th
i feel much better. i hope i am changed. i feel i am. i shouldn’t say i hope. hope seems so useless to me. like it creates expectations, of which i have none. i don’t anticipate anything but my idea of life. if i hope anything, it is that can maintain peace. i was going to say “maintain and stand firm in my beliefs.” but that would be a ridiculous thing to say. for one i have no belief structure, and for two ideas are forever changing. right now, as much as i would love to continue thinking and pondering, i should really get some trivial work done, so that i can later do what i want. it’s almost done. it’s almost over. i will say once again though, before i leave, that i love very very much. and it fills me with such immense happiness to love. existential adventure.
4.05.2005
my hair is short now.
i forgot my headphones today,
so all i hear is the clicks and snaps
of computers
and the ringing of my right ear.
i want to be dead,
but not really.
that is exactly how i feel.
[last night i talked with mr. deboe about that for a while. wanting to kill yourself, or wanting to be dead, but not forever yet. i would like to be dead for about the next year. then be alive again, and be like, "hey. here i am again. i'm not dead now."
but then i was thinking about the ultimate futility of that. why would i want to be dead for only a year. what would i be coming back to. i would have missed a years worth, which isn't a big deal, but being dead, then coming back just seems stupid to me now that i think about it. if you want to be dead, than die, and cease existence, let that be that. that's how i feel now, after more contemplation over the whole issue.
if you came back from the dead after a year of death, how would people even react. does it even matter. i imagine that no one would be too incredibly excited, then i would just end up killing myself again and saying, "for real this time." dead. yesterday, i was talking with a friend from high school who i rarely see, and she noticed my hair was short and said, "but you didn't shave it and kill yourself." and i was confused. then she said, "you used to say that you would shave your head and then kill yourself." and i said, "i did." she chuckled and said quietly, "all the time." i laughed perplexed and awkward laugh. i don't remember myself.]
[sometimes i want to smother certain people with my love. i don't mean that in a suffocating sense. i want to pour it all over them, just cover them with warmth and affection, like a blanket. take naps. sometimes i can't think of anything more affectionate than afternoon naps. i wish people weren't so weird, so that i could do that and have no repercussions. no confused emotions. no jealousy and hurt. but that's okay. i just love specific individuals very much. and sometimes it's more fun to simply do small things to show it.]
regardless of how fucked up i felt last night, it was much fun. i really did enjoy myself. even more so now that i am recalling it. i'm enjoying the memory, especially when i misplace how ridiculously trivial i felt as a person for the majority of monday night, march 4th, 2000 and 5.
blah blah blah.
the cat's meow.
the dog does bark.
and this and that.
cat and mouse.
dog eats cat.
and down goes the whole mother fuckin farm.
[i've written that in here before, but some days it is perpetually in my head.]
+
=
+
.
i forgot my headphones today,
so all i hear is the clicks and snaps
of computers
and the ringing of my right ear.
i want to be dead,
but not really.
that is exactly how i feel.
[last night i talked with mr. deboe about that for a while. wanting to kill yourself, or wanting to be dead, but not forever yet. i would like to be dead for about the next year. then be alive again, and be like, "hey. here i am again. i'm not dead now."
but then i was thinking about the ultimate futility of that. why would i want to be dead for only a year. what would i be coming back to. i would have missed a years worth, which isn't a big deal, but being dead, then coming back just seems stupid to me now that i think about it. if you want to be dead, than die, and cease existence, let that be that. that's how i feel now, after more contemplation over the whole issue.
if you came back from the dead after a year of death, how would people even react. does it even matter. i imagine that no one would be too incredibly excited, then i would just end up killing myself again and saying, "for real this time." dead. yesterday, i was talking with a friend from high school who i rarely see, and she noticed my hair was short and said, "but you didn't shave it and kill yourself." and i was confused. then she said, "you used to say that you would shave your head and then kill yourself." and i said, "i did." she chuckled and said quietly, "all the time." i laughed perplexed and awkward laugh. i don't remember myself.]
i've memorized ink blots
slashed my own tires
dreams are full of masturbation
and i thought it was funny
i thought it was
funny, for a while
until cats opened the bedroom door
and i rolled over to witness
pretty backs and the perfect figures
meant to do me in.
things i could touch
my hands were too heavy
limbs lying limp at my sides
an instance lacking humor entirely
but the pillows and blankets smell nicenow
empty sweaters on the floor
very casual, very inadvertent
and bearing now naked purpose
so the cats came in then
and i curled up with them
so desperate for affection.
[sometimes i want to smother certain people with my love. i don't mean that in a suffocating sense. i want to pour it all over them, just cover them with warmth and affection, like a blanket. take naps. sometimes i can't think of anything more affectionate than afternoon naps. i wish people weren't so weird, so that i could do that and have no repercussions. no confused emotions. no jealousy and hurt. but that's okay. i just love specific individuals very much. and sometimes it's more fun to simply do small things to show it.]
silly little notions
they creep so softly
into the foregrounds of
everyday thinking.
regardless of how fucked up i felt last night, it was much fun. i really did enjoy myself. even more so now that i am recalling it. i'm enjoying the memory, especially when i misplace how ridiculously trivial i felt as a person for the majority of monday night, march 4th, 2000 and 5.
blah blah blah.
the cat's meow.
the dog does bark.
and this and that.
cat and mouse.
dog eats cat.
and down goes the whole mother fuckin farm.
[i've written that in here before, but some days it is perpetually in my head.]
+
=
+
.
4.01.2005
inconsiderate fucks
table top dancers and silver spoons
i laughed twice
once at myself
for being such an equal shit
again at the paperback books
written about the relevance of desperation
a whole series about sex
and how i cradle my own hips
like a lush
ready for my close up
ready for my close up
editing my novels about hate
eradicating your names
i don't want to be too harsh
to the pint-sized pricks
and the country craft collectors
it is the first of final hours
it is the first of final hours
developing inabilities to lie
about important aspects of love
that's pretty far fetched
this fever burning
never killed anyone
these wheels turning
never killed anyone
because people don't kill people
they kill themselves
daily basis, night and day
forward fast to friday night
the usual plague of locusts
seeps out from the cracks of humanity
displays of frozen flesh
never killed anyone
the filthy and the fresh
never killed anyone
because people don't kill people
we all kill ourselves
but some better than others
+
spare me please.
spare me.
no really.
no.
really.
+
+
+
+
The pot will call the kettle black.
.
.
.
table top dancers and silver spoons
i laughed twice
once at myself
for being such an equal shit
again at the paperback books
written about the relevance of desperation
a whole series about sex
and how i cradle my own hips
like a lush
ready for my close up
ready for my close up
editing my novels about hate
eradicating your names
i don't want to be too harsh
to the pint-sized pricks
and the country craft collectors
it is the first of final hours
it is the first of final hours
developing inabilities to lie
about important aspects of love
Murderers you're murderers
We are not the same as you
Genie let out the bottle
Funny haha funny how
When the walls bend
With your breathing
They will suck you down
To the otherside
To the shadows blue and red
Your alarm bells
They should be ringing
This is the gloaming
that's pretty far fetched
this fever burning
never killed anyone
these wheels turning
never killed anyone
because people don't kill people
they kill themselves
daily basis, night and day
forward fast to friday night
the usual plague of locusts
seeps out from the cracks of humanity
displays of frozen flesh
never killed anyone
the filthy and the fresh
never killed anyone
because people don't kill people
we all kill ourselves
but some better than others
+
spare me please.
spare me.
no really.
no.
really.
+
+
+
+
The pot will call the kettle black.
.
.
.
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