Truth...

My mom loves Jane's Addiction.


That makes her cooler than most inhabitants of Earth.


Peace

Expectations

Yesterday, I thought to myself, "maybe I awoke just to watch her sleeping."


Two more weeks.

Spread them across the floor...

If you keep it up, you'll be born.



But you won't ever listen, I'll bet...

Pantomime

I won't dare erase the previous entry. That was a very fragile state of mind... one that resolved in a blackout. World news.


"It is only the very beginning of a glimmer of a start to this process. It is an idea that could die on the vine, which is precisely why it has taken me this long to post anything, but it is also an idea that is pretty pregnant with possibility. That feeling of possibility in itself is a sea change for me. We will just have to see."
- Eric Avery


Hah, I forget what I wanted to convey with this. Goodnight.

Georgia Moon fucks ytou up like a sheep on a diamonad mpyth trophy / ornadte flask in veil trigute mikles.

Omelward as alewys yoooooooooooooooooooooooooo
call

Grips of addiction

My barbarian just went from level 41 to 48 in a matter of 30 minutes.

Ah, fuck it.


We clean up well, he says.

"The Three Philosophers"

And I thought I would be way off. Only wishful thinking.


It still is, in large part. But what a voyage it was, into the depths of the human condition, the creative mind. What lack of sensory abduction knows no other borders. When the toothpick marks the 8 ball a small but brittle crumbling goes missing. The counterpart makes the appearance more steadily known, as far and distant.

So many theories now. Road trip this summer, Europe next summer. Camping/hiking, Atlantic City trip(s), moving into Summerdale. What the fuck. How did I get here and for what reason?

"We say more by saying nothing at all." Thanks, Brandon Boyd. What a master of the vocal translation of our collective existence. What a legend.

What happened? I always answer the same: Too much and not enough. Too much of what I came here for, too little of what draws me deeper. If I had the dictation in my own dribble to choose, none would be no option.

We don't have that now. We are rotting inside out. There is only the grain and stony whisper to take root in the shoulder.

Thanks, now and never again.

"The Choice Has Always Been Yours"

And I know it's lame.

But I'm wondering, if all women want, is simply to be cared for. Someone to feel safe within. Someone who will be a strength-crutch when the tides collapse.

And they say to me, you've never been treated rightly. Never been truly cared for. Damn. I don't know anymore.

Tonight, Freddie picked my nose for me, and flicked it as Joseph was walking by. It was a tripod of breaking established moral boundaries. Then Joe said this, "Maybe we'll get back together in the future man, I don't know. But we single men now, let's get dem bitches."

Then someone else in particular was all over me. $56 tonight-- after work, Streck and I hit up Taco Bell, then cruised with a bowl. Talked about ska, Cori, Mandy... at which point he more or less encouraged me to do something.

I just bought Razl #1 by Jeff Smith. This seems pretty out there... can't wait to see in which direction the man goes next.

Joe may become a security guard for the Baltimore Ravens. If that's not sick as fuck, then I'm all out.

Iron Man was delicious. Very good.

Tomorrow will be the best.