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[16 Jul 2009|11:38am] |
Woke up. Fell asleep.
Took a cold shower, then I
cleaned up the mess.
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| I just want to go blind. |
[09 Jul 2009|09:12pm] |
| [ |
music |
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you can't hold your shadow |
] |
in the argument of concept versus intricacy, i lose.
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| Seethe |
[29 Jun 2009|09:14pm] |
|
Creeping closer and closer to combustion.
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[15 Jun 2009|03:35pm] |
| [ |
music |
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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.
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| 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?
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|
[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.
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[21 May 2009|06:42pm] |
| [ |
music |
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it's a tangeable death |
] |
cleaner lines would be nice.
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|
[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."
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[25 Apr 2009|01:26pm] |
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I was right. Where's my lab coat?
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[19 Apr 2009|08:53pm] |
| [ |
music |
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You should be hated here. |
] |
With life-like puzzle pieces, anyone can be a detective.
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| Slaying of the beast |
[05 Apr 2009|07:54pm] |
Dear Tom,
There are nights when I will sit up smoking pack after pack of USA Golds. There’s nothing I can do about it. I just sit in the glow of my computer monitor with the slowly emptying carton resting on the edge of the drafting table I use for a desk, and my ashtray filling up. I would take a picture for you some time, but I don’t know that you’d like to see what’s become of me. The circles under my eyes have dipped below my cheek bones and I fear they’re what’s attracting the termites. Not normal ones either; legs the size of sausages. I kid you not.
The ashtray fills up and eventually I’m stubbing out ashes on filters. More drink is required when my throat gets really dry and so I have to find an all night liquor store - not an easy task, when you live in the sticks - and get myself some good gin. Half the bottle is gone by the time I crash through my front door and while I’ve had to remodel the kitchen several times, the termites just keep coming back and so I am now left with no alternative but to cancel my account. I’m at the end of my rope here man. You’ve gotta understand.
Regretfully yours,
-BML
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[26 Mar 2009|04:21pm] |
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This season has reduced me to mouthbreathing.
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| Dhamma-Truth |
[15 Mar 2009|08:33pm] |
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an evaluation of events since 2004 seems to reenforce the idea of singularity in life.
no past. no present. no future.
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