|
[23 Nov 2009|09:17pm] |
|
I'm probably finished posting my life online in any form other than one that manifests under an intense layer of polish and omission. I might be back, and I'll probably still watch anyone who still updates here, but I think I'm done. G'night y'all.
http://brianmlatimer.tumblr.com/
|
|
| Look at this triangle of thorns.
|
[15 Oct 2009|12:27am] |
Six words, (closed dark door) we flip a coin. Tail to heads. Old stills develop.
Frames encase with glass. A quiet cold envelops in Autumn A.M.
Fast forward language. Rewind details. Not unlike past hypocrisy.
|
|
|
[30 Aug 2009|11:06pm] |
I got a free 30 gig iPod over the weekend.
I need to change out the audio jack for it. Then I will have a twenty-five dollar, fully functioning iPod. It also needs a charger and transfer cable but I believe those are en route to me via a friend.
|
|
|
[21 Aug 2009|07:03pm] |
|

10 IJsselmeerdijk, Zeevang, Netherlands The new form of photography may have removed the photographer from the mechanical process, but Street View photographs nonetheless remain cultural texts demanding interpretation.
"This very way of recording our world, this tension between an automated camera and a human who seeks meaning, reflects our modern experience. As social beings we want to matter and we want to matter to someone, we want to count and be counted, but loneliness and anonymity are more often our plight."
Interesting article on Google street view. Source. Thanks to Michael Conti for putting this up.
Computer is still dead, but I apparently can't avoid the internet. I heard there are places people go for that kind of thing. Maybe I'll look into that.
|
|
|
[19 Aug 2009|03:58pm] |
|
Computer is dead until further notice.
|
|
|
[16 Jul 2009|11:38am] |
Woke up. Fell asleep. Took a cold shower, then I cleaned up the mess.
|
|
| I just want to go blind. |
[09 Jul 2009|09:12pm] |
| [ |
music |
| |
you can't hold your shadow |
] |
in the argument of concept versus intricacy, i lose.
|
|
| Seethe |
[29 Jun 2009|09:14pm] |
|
Creeping closer and closer to combustion.
|
|
|
[15 Jun 2009|03:35pm] |
| [ |
music |
| |
I wanna see movies of my dreams |
] |
My issue with length: you are all miles away. blue, black, and, and, drenched.
My issue with strength: left to count all the ripples, you cast off the shore.
|
|
| Summer Reading |
[28 May 2009|09:10pm] |
| [ |
music |
| |
it rains like this all the time. |
] |
• A Canticle for Leibowitz, by W. M. Miller • The Crossing, by C. McCarthy • Bluebeard, by K. Vonnegut • The Collector, by J. Fowles • Lolita, by V. Nabokov • Cloud Atlas, by D. Mitchell • Watership Down, by R. Adams • Ham on Rye, by C. Bukowski • Tales of Adam, by D. Quinn • Keep the Aspidistra Flying, by G. Orwell • Flow My Tears The Policeman Said, By P. K. Dick • Hard Boiled Wonderland and The End of The World, by H. Murakami • Only Revolutions by M. Z. Danielewski, (if I can get through these others first.) What about you?
|
|
|
[26 May 2009|02:25pm] |
| [ |
music |
| |
My very last letter to you |
] |
I had a dream last night. I was on a long bus ride to somewhere and at each of the stations that the bus stopped at I would get off, go inside the terminals and get coffee, or food, or just to stretch my legs. The interior of each of the terminals were set up like a stripmall sized flea markets, with booths and stacks of shit (for sale?) set up against the walls.
I kept finding copies of my old notebooks or individual pages with my handwriting on it, looking really ratty, or with burned edges, or crumpled up, with really shitty rough drafts of poetry/short stories written in them stacked up inside of big wire bins. I remember collecting a bunch of them in my arms and thinking "shit, i hope no one looked at these." The piles of stuff reminded me of the contents of a dumpster whenever I stopped to examine them.
Just before the dream ended, I was running to get back on the bus and saw it pulling out of the parking lot. I yelled and started throwing things at the windows to get it to stop. When I got to the door, I saw my neighbor Tony was driving and he wouldn't let me get on he asked me if I was "almost there" through the door. I had to tell him yes before he would open the doors enough for me to get inside.
|
|
|
[21 May 2009|06:42pm] |
| [ |
music |
| |
it's a tangeable death |
] |
cleaner lines would be nice.
|
|
|
[04 May 2009|03:13pm] |
| [ |
music |
| |
you can't hold your shadow |
] |
"I feel like they're going to be outside in that field and freeze, so then they're going to get close to the fire and melt; like the myth of Icarus or something."
|
|
|
[25 Apr 2009|01:26pm] |
|
I was right. Where's my lab coat?
|
|
|
[19 Apr 2009|08:53pm] |
| [ |
music |
| |
You should be hated here. |
] |
With life-like puzzle pieces, anyone can be a detective.
|
|
| navigation |
| [ |
viewing |
| |
most recent entries |
] |
| [ |
go |
| |
earlier |
] |
|
|
|
|