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.