Defining Innovation

clean up the vomit trail.

Reluctance

Debauched by his regurgitated stress relief, I call upon my new sense of beginning afresh

Prelim of Exodus

"Society must let the artist float to wander off into the nebula."
- Brandon Boyd

Clearly what I've found is that it hasn't translated well. This constant ebb of understanding, worrying its way through daily happenings. A year later, I'm rediscovering the safe trodden truths, I feel. Why is this? How am I not improving for the most part... because I've most definitely been on decline. This must strengthen. So much has to happen now. I will force it. Just as gently as that blanket without aim--I claimed it. In dreams again last night, in reality in a few days awaits.

Problems arise when we try to see each others precise sensory experience of the same subject. We must relish moments together. When we adopt the eyes of others in pure word and comprehension, we're losing the initial system shock by having a filter cast over your eyes. My own foolishness startles me.

....does something really just tell us to do these things?

God's Waiting Room

Wow, what a night. Life reaching a full circle. How terribly I treated her, how wonderfully I treated her. This is interesting. Just waiting for further condemnation by Stephen... otherwise, shit, I love this girl.

I guess I have to dick someone over now. Yet... it needs to be done. This is my life that I'm laying out in front of me, no one else's. I must stop submitting myself to others' selfish wants, when I'm the one working for the goods. What a beautiful, beautiful evening.

Shit. These next 3 months are going to be outlandish.

A Mockery of my Intermission for the Becoming of My Presence

Today was a true kick in the pants, which I needed to further my actualization.
I feared being fired today, walked out of work for the second time this week, and started throwing various objects throughout the kitchen of the restaurant. I now know that I've reached lunacy. And overcome, I want to believe. What are we doing with our lives, I asked. I dunno, he replied, as carefree as always, and thus it remains. But course is set, and we're now stapled to the repercussions of that acceptance. The fear won't stand. I won't stand for fear. My evening just had a very solid finale when I found a centipede in my shower, one of my greatest fears of the galaxy, next to the newly coined "HARDCORE REPUBLICANS," though I abolished his torso and limbs. It was gruesome.

And now you. Perhaps my stomach is in uproar because of the vast amount of time we've spent, and how eager you are to please me... and I find myself resisting the natural urges to please you. This is a year later. This is only halfway point from a proven stagnation, if you let it be so. Or, as we discussed, you could allow us to "live together"... and live together. Somewhere in the recesses of my striking and overly intense consciousness, this all proves a point to myself, to him, to you, to them. Fuck. But fuck them. Fuck me. Fuck him, at times. And fuck you if you're enabling yourself the contentment that you've been preaching is malnourished and uneventful. And then again you brought this to our attention this evening... and could we worship each other any more than we do? Why do we do it?

Oh, answers still so unclear. You enable me, however, and I must kick it up a notch to motivate myself IMMENSELY over these next few months, if I'm to flourish with every obstacle stacked. How frivolously fate has crafted all calling parties to my attention all at once: so clever as to force me to confront tomorrow, today, and the present. And the fears and disillusions. And I crave it. This new sense of immediacy is just perfectly presented to me at this unbearable time. I put myself in every situation in my mind before it actually occurs. I know I'll cry when Stephen Streck leaves us to join the Air Force. I'll fucking rage with passion with a hug unimaginable to the untested bonds. But it's coming. So much preparation, regard, and disregard I adore and very wholly praise in you and our dear friend Shelbs. Your pace will be unparalleled, and I'm striving to match it. That's companionship.

Move me to tears. Please. Tonight I was persuaded to attend this party not too far from my home, so I did in fact join the fun. And I forced myself to rise to what the situation demanded. And it worked pretty well. I conjure laughs, encouragement, and some sort of cockeyed respect. All the while, boosting confidence which barely exists, and is very tough to summon. Though I will when I'm beaten down to the dirt. And today I royally beat myself into powder. So fuzzy, clouded, fatigued, shaky, disarrayed... a hot mess inside out with the vapor production. Just solid to mush, as a centipede in the shower.

Straight up skank status...

Bit of Nostalgia for the Old Folks

Seminal minds depriving the soiled society of a nurturing slumber--a suturing number.


"Without a mistake, you can't go anywhere. It's where the most fertile ground is. The birth of the next move comes from putting pressure on the gaping wound."
- Norton Wisdom, 2003

"I am curious going into today, with this historical mindset, how I will end up feeling having come full circle. The car just arrived to take belle and I down to soundcheck. It's good to be interested in ones life."

- Eric Avery, 5/20/09

Jane's Addiction and the 17 years of rest

Bonus Disc 5 of A Cabinet of Curiosities has 5 tracks from 7/23-24 @ Irving Meadows, Lollapalooza '91. I'm going to continue to add upcoming tracks to this EP in order to craft a whole new disc:

01. Standing in the Shower... Thinking (Live 1991)
02. Of Course (Live 1991)
03. Ted, Just Admit It... (Live 1991)
04. Mountain Song (Live 1991)
05. Stop! (Live 1991)
06. Trip Away (Live 1991) [ACOC iTunes bonus track]
07. Chip Away (Live 1991) [ACOC iTunes bonus track]
08. Slow Divers (Rehearsal 1986)
09. Chip Away (2009)
10. Whores (2009)
11. Embrace the Darkness (2009)
12. Laughing Beats (2009)
13. I'll Protect You (2009)


"What have I missed the most? The first thing that comes to mind is 'Three Days.' Every time we play it, I go, 'Gentlemen, we made this.' You know?"

- Eric Avery, April 2009

Fascination of Moment

So so cleverly she divides. This orbital intrusion that has redeemed my late shimmering eye. From within the fire, weight upon rims, the tautness of the sweatband was stellar to uproot.

Damn, this girl is ridiculous. And here we are, a year later. I caught some rather intent glances this evening. Where does that lead? She's seeing someone, yet she tells me she's helplessly lonely. Rawr. In other news, I'm actually contemplating giving someone the heads up on the Atlanta PJ Harvey show. But I can't really bring myself to do that. On sale in 7 hours. But no.

If only they'd stop confusing each other.


You slept facing the wall
And you wanted, less than I wanted
I slept facing the wall
But when I met you,
How did you enter?
I don't remember
How did we ever?

Cryptomnesia

Listening to the new Omar. Completely off the balls. Just perfect right now.

Loved talking to Shelby yesterday, and Nakeeda since. Got to see Mandy and Scottie... so that was kinda great, kinda weird. The combination of Karen, Katie, Than and Alex is just the best. I love our new little gang.

Hmm... I need to sleep.

Great night with YOU.

Muffled Decibels

I'm still stuck in this swirling cycle of having a three goddess complex. So much misguidance has sent us to this point in time. Remembering scents of last summer, while news ones etch their way into our collective memory. How wide the scope of our dissension.

Scottie giggles and tells me of my youthful ways. Yet urgency is always now far from thought. So clever, my new routine of coffee, cigarettes... and blueberries. New form taking shape. Glimpsing empyrean from purgatory. "Since We've Been Wrong" uncovered as the true title for the acoustic TMV song, previously known as "Beneath the Eyelids." The wrong still carries fervent air, though now clogged with prosthetic smoke. Chiming in at more flawless coercion than what was formerly attempting to mesh with flow.

After so many vacated, clouded dreams, I begin to lose interest in whether or not we're both rotting away. Right there is the answer. These aren't buildings in pieces, rather, windows blast out by distraction.

Skank Status

"Erika! There is no laughter in the garden."

Drunk as queerbait.

"Oh, England, come soon."

April is here. Fuck our lives. Together as wholeness. Sensory decay is eight equivalents.

Biggest Gang I Know

There are 14 bussers. at least 3 of them are assclowns; 5 have set schedules or barely buss at all, 2 are brothers which are included in prior, 4 of them are some of my closest cats, 2 are married and only work together, 1 is transgender, 2 are newly employed, another 2 are hopefully about to depart. Then there's me. Also, I kinda miss Blake.

Hmm. So now I'm striving to always be on time, to better start the day right and lessen risk of being fired/sometimes quitting. Yes... the girls are trash, I have so much money--but I still spend too much income.

It's 6 am now. This went nowhere. I need to go to sleep.

Neruda

"You don't want to answer me.

But the questions do not die."

- Consequences, Extravagaria 1958


"Wandering love, I come back
with this heart both fresh and wearied,
belonging to water and sand,
to the dry spaces of the shore,
to the white war of the foam."

- Here, there, everywhere, Extravagaria 1958



All throughout Pablo Neruda's collections, Extravagaria and Fully Empowered, the books resulting from his return to Chile, I can't help but notice the recurring reference to "foam." These are his most personal works, derived from his autumn-minded journey, from his autumnal period, a testament to his "coming to rest." As a rediscovery of his home, both native land and sea, I understand the importance of season and the Pacific coast in his recollection. Though in my own wanderings, I too came to use the word "foam" very often during my writings last summer, all before my introduction to this man's vast, immense body of work. Just as any other time in life when this common happening is noticed, I have to wonder how this translates from generation to generation, from artist to artist -- the attachment to either sensation or perspective and a reluctance to let go, when the internal ashes have yet to settle.

odetoyousothatyoumayrestandnowyouredead

please. I am not the artist you think I am. The words, on the roof of my mouth.

you are such a haunting thing, under my false exterior. and i was amongst it. i'm scared, for the life of everyone, it seems. they can at least pretend, but i can't escape you when i sleep. i just want to lie down and never wake up.

how does life happen to us, really?
I end so many series with the starting of a new sentence. But fuck, so do you.


I now wish to be imparted from you. I'll never send that last letter, cunt.

...in all our hesitations, the bold state of being.


catchupcatchupcatchup

all things that make me want to kill myself

So convinced that God is no answer
never was and never will be

yet what is it within ourselves that we are lacking?
what love that we have not yet found is there to embrace?

"Unreachable"

I know we tried
I know we tried
End
Shoot me
End
Shoot me
Shoot me, shoot me



The Empyrean is completely enthralling, and it has its grip during this period of blossom in life.

Tonight is that night. I believe. So strange how quickly we attach to our intangible desires, not yet properly grown. Simply abstractions of distraction. And mischievous attraction.




Gimme some mo'