9/9/11

ON LOAN 4 $EVER

please kill me

when you're down in the dumps, Nothing so uplifting as a good story. Tekkonkinkreet

8/7/11

bloop bloop we gotta do something about your complacency

I WANT NOTHING TO DO WITH HAPPINESS IF IT MEANS ALL I'LL WANT TO DO THEN IS SIT AROUND IN THE SUN WITH A DUMB SLOW SMILE ON MY FACE, SURRENDERED TO THE BORED SKY OF NOTHING BUT BLUE, NO CLOUDS NO THOUGHTS BUT OF LOVELY WHITE SQUARE CAKES AND INVISIBLE LIGHT, NOTHING IN MY DEAD HEAD BUT A SPREAD LANDSCAPE EARTH JAMMED ON THE GROUND OF A HO HUM HORIZON OF DEAD GRINS SKIPPING AROUND IN NOWHERE LAND CHUCKLING CRAZY AND WEIRD IN THE SUBTLEST AND CREEPIEST WAY, FAT AND CONTENT AND TWENTY YEARS OLD THE YOUNGEST AND SADDEST GRANDFATHER WITH NOTHING TO GIVE HIS CHILDREN'S CHILDREN BUT THAT WANKED OUT BLISS SMILE (IS GRANDPA CRAZY MOMMA? WHY DOESN'T HE TALK TO ME ALL HE DOES IS STARE WITH THAT CREEPY SMILE), GIVE ME A GOD DAMN POT HOLE SO I CAN FALL AND TELL YOU A SECRET OF HOW TO DO IT WITHOUT GRACE, I'LL TELL YOU SOME TWISTED TALE ABOUT ______.

uhhhhh....do I even know what I'm talking about, or how young and foolish am I? I really want those clouds the fuck outta here.

8/2/11

one in the same

Henry Miller's Rosy Crucifixion 1

"once the artist does get a meal he immediately falls back into his own limitless world, and while he's in that world he's a king, whereas your ordinary duffer is just a filling station with nothing in between but dust and smoke. And even supposing you're not an ordinary chap, but a wealthy individual, one who can indulge his tastes, his whims, his appetites: do you suppose for one minute that a millionaire enjoys food or wine or women like a hungry artist does? To enjoy anything you have to make yourself ready to receive it; it implies a certain control, discipline, chastity, I might even say. Above all, it implies desire, and desire is something you have to nourish by living.
[…] I envy the man who has the courage to be an artist--I envy him because I know that he's infinitely richer because he spends himself, because he gives himself all the time, and not just labor or money or gifts."

8/1/11

Kerouac's wisdom

"Sin is sinking in my bones and making me older and wiser. But I'm only wiser to the wise men--my children grieve for me. Weep for me, weep for anybody, weep for the poor dumbfucks of this world--weep for the waves--weep, weep--now my eyes begin a voyage from which I am going to return resurrected and huge and silent."

7/28/11

voices

can someone please answer these questions for me

In there any worth in me writing a story that is basically a cheapened version of Jack Kerouac's "Tristessa"?
If it turned out to be, in my eyes, the most successful piece I've written to date, would any publisher desire it? or would they all write it off as a bull shit kerouac rip off?
Is art not inspired by art if the latter art is too closely familiar to the original?
Where is my voice if I feel most free writing with "Kerouac's voice"?
Is "Kerouac's voice" exclusively "Kerouac's voice", or is it a style that is merely untapped literary resources?

Where is my voice?

Who am I?
what is going on?

My content is different. My passion is the same. Kerouac points the way to freedom.

7/27/11

Visions Of

Fervor in my mental steps from one such KEROUAC, the buddha beast, abstaining and gaining cracked up and decoded in the smoothest of streams, I too flow, and GO, and am on my way to the silent, silent eve. amen.

[YER literary energy, the one that feeds your mind's cogs, and subsequently your physicality. If you find that you are dispassioned, grab word after word--from lyric, book, conversation--and get up and go!]

7/10/11

PLEASE KILL ME



"Rock & roll is so great, people should start dying for it. you don't understand. The music gave you back your beat so you could dream. A whole generation running with a Fender bass…

The people just have to die for the music. People are dying for everything else, so why not the music? Die for it. Isn't it pretty? Wouldn't you die for something pretty?

Perhaps I should die. After all, al the great blues singers did die. But life is getting better now.

I don't want to die. Do I?"---Lou Reed


7/9/11

I'm ALMOST READY TO DO SOMETHING

HEAR SOMETHING
DO SOMETHING GO SOMEWHERE
BE somethin
REALLY LOUD SOMEWHERE

but first. I will go home and eat some steak and eggs. hell. yea.

6/22/11

Radio Free Albemuth

dear internet,

I have hardly begun Phillip K. Dick's book Radio Free Albemuth, and it is already blowing my mind with it's accuracy and relevance both to life in general and my life currently. I will send his lines out here to you as I trek.

"...a victim of his own determinism" p. 27
"It goes into the unconscious and is stored...I think I'm being programmed." p.33
"No, it would all seem natural, what I'd say and do. I'd think that it was my idea." p. 34
"If he had remained in Berkeley he would have lived and died a partial person, never knowing completeness." p. 35

6/19/11

dammit post

Dear girl who says she likes me but is now in ireland,

Is it okay to say that I wish you were next to me right now? I don't think so--I feel vulnerable and unsure saying these things, but, you know, fuck it!
come back!
god dammit!

ARE MY FEELINGS REAL????????????????????????????????????????????????
HOW LOST AM I???????????? (A: PRETTY FUCKIN LOSTTTTTTTTTTTTT)
IT'LL BE CLEAR IF YOU JUST SIT NEXT TO ME. I'M NOT ASKING,,,,,,,,,,,,
I'M YEL(L/P)ING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

sincerely,

SONUVABITCH




(if I still feel these things in a month, I will transfer these words to paper, and address it to hell! Woohoo!)
I DONT KNOW WHAT IS REAL
be wary of feelings. they are intense and they are surreal.

Jackie Wilson

dear internet,
I've heard it said that Jackie Wilson was one of those one hit wonders. That's not true at all! I recently picked up a 5 dollar record, the jackie wilson story, and it's revived my love for him. Lonely Teardrops live at the copa is so much better than the original.


6/18/11

Playlist of SOUL

Soul.
I speak of it constantly. to the vomit level? yes, surely. the mirror questions me.
but that is irrelevant. The question is...Do I have it? do you?
Soul!

If it was tangible, where would it be? in your chest?
I think it would be in your feet. your arms. your shoulders. Your knees. Your swingin hands!
SOUL!

Uptight - Stevie Wonder
Exceptional - Elridge Gravy and the Court Supreme
Tainted Love - Gloria Jones
Our Love is Getting Stronger - Jason Knight
Soul Galore - Jackie Wilson
Shotgun - Jr. Walker & the All Stars
Tramp - Otis Redding
(Your Love Keeps Lifting Me) Higher and Higher - Jackie Wilson
Love Really Hurts Without You Billy Ocean
Nothing From Nothing - Billy Preston
Agent Double O Soul - Billy Preston and Ray Charles
Love is Like an Itching in My Heart - The Supremes
Where Did Our Love Go - The Supremes
Sugar Dumpling - Sam Cooke
Time - Edwin Starr
Living A Lie - High Keys
Love on Delivery - Billy Ocean
Twenty Five Miles - Edwin Starr
What - Judy Street
Goodbye (Nothing' To Say) - The Javells
Elevator Song - Killer Crossover
Ain't Too Proud to Beg - The Temptations
Land of a Thousand Dances - Little Richard
Think - James Brown
Say You'll Be Mine - The Rosebuds
Twistin' the Night Away - Sam Cooke
The Snake - Al Wilson
Move on Up - Curtis Mayfield

Oh man. When everyone can become your baby, and you unto everyone. Move like the cosmic dancer. Dance right from the womb. Music here can lead you to that desperate surrender you never knew you wanted. I'm only describing, passion of the sun, and your fear of it's ferocity, intensity, in your ears, your open eyes, your hippie hipster hipping hips. the fear that moves you onwardS!

SOUL

You got your own pair--no one can give it to you, no one can find it for you.

SOUL!
use it!
use it!
use it!
use it!

6/15/11

who beats the shit out of the tom-tom

"Then: Velvet Underground minus Nico but featuring a drummer named Maureen who beats the shit out of the tom-tom and the bass drum. Her heavy, continuous 4/4 outpouring on the drums slams into your bowels and crawls out your asshole. Meanwhile, the rest of the band makes a sound that can only be compared to a railroad shunting yard, metal wheels screeching to a halt on the tracks. It's music to go out of your mind to, if that's your bent."

--Robert Gold, Shrine, Los Angeles Free Press, July 26, 1968

6/6/11

I think this is a tacky post

the greatest love may be simple, the best love is like music:::



More than your words,
I need your space
right next to me
across from me
I could sleep with you there
finally
The sun is breaking through
you step towards me
quiet
I feel more than I know
the earth is steady
and it is moving because it is so
I cannot enter myself
without your breath
stay right there
right here
we'll lie around together
you'll raise me from the drunken floor
tomorrow

Words from a friend

Sometimes (or most of the time), expression is much clearer when helped along through by a friend, through correspondence.


1. Progress has been little to none. I don't understand the word "progress" anymore as I don't see anything worth progressing in. I reread my previous words below, and that man that I was sounds very optimistic. In reading all of pessoa's reflections and in doing my own, it's so interesting to see the ups and downs of attitudes and perspectives. Flippant state of mind. but is there a constant joy that will raise me from the floor every morning?

2. You know, the idea of progress is tricky.

I really think that progress is this weird thing that happens and
doesn't happen. Like you have to "show up" and work at it happening.
And even then, I wonder how much progress is always forward-thinking.
I was out for a walk last night, it was nice and cool up here in St.
Louis Heights, and I thought how we are always revisiting our past,
how in this ultra-connected world, we're supposed to be every part of
ourselves all of the time. It's like if a molting snake had someone
following behind it, always collecting the skin that it had lost,
asking the snake to put back on the skin it had already moved on from,
grown out of. "Love me for the man that I am, not the man that I
was," the Avett Brothers sing.

This morning on the way to school I was reading some of one of
Frederick Buechner's biographical books and I felt more myself than I
had in a long time, like that moment a couple of weeks ago where, for
thirty minutes, I felt genuinely happy again for no real reason. But
something about what I read this morning reminded me that something
about life is very, very good. That books are important and people
are more important and that "everything's lost and everything's found"
all at once, again and again.

Or something like that. There's something about the day to day that
we have to master, that we have to shape and form and guard. You'd
think I'd have that down by now, but I don't. And you'd think more
people would talk about that kind of thing, but they don't. Maybe
that's the curse of being a single guy. But I'm holding out hope for
the summer days where I have less to worry about and more time to
maybe get a little closer to the person I want to be.


3. I feel your words have helped me today more than it would have earlier. I find myself in a hole of invisible terror.

I believe that you are right about having to "show up and work at progress". I've not been doing that, but rather, I've been waiting to have a desire to work at progressing. again, it is the tiredness. and also, perhaps, a fear that if I try, I will fail. an insecurity.

The past. I realize that I am everything of my past, even as I am not thinking of any of it. While at the same time, I am an entirely new person. I hope I am becoming a better version of myself with each step, but I fear the hard times that I will need to pass through in order to reach that bettered self.


I've been dealing with my anxieties with alcohol and the such. It doesn't help. It distracts from progress, it puts off confronting the future for momentary pleasures and sometimes no pleasure at all, it just gives me simple ignorance. But sometimes I see myself clearer, and I see that the inner self is exposed in the drunkenness. Inhibitions drop, and you perhaps turn into an exaggeration of your inner emotion. You laugh longer, cry louder, hug harder. But the mornings are much lower, and I end up wasting hours lying on the floor, feeling sick, wishing and sleeping. I wonder if this depression is purely me, or if it is simply a voice of doubt that the real me must conquer.

I am looking through my journal, I know that I have experienced that happiness you spoke of. and it's strange because I find it amidst these depressing entries. life is good. and though I feel down right now, I look outside, and the sun has just broken through the clouds. I feel a warmth that can't be explained.

5/9/11

BRONTO

I've been published! !!!!!!
by my roommate adam. Our group of friends are starting a website called Brontosaurus Boys, which is a collection of our profound thoughts. We're the next generation. We're super fuckin smart. Hallejujah! Change the World! We're smart!

5/4/11

Nowhere to go

If I could categorize the young city life today with a few words of priority, it would be with "sweet nothings".

Is this obvious?
Has there been a group of these people in every generation, simply fluctuating over the years in influence over history? Is our generation the strongest, the weakest, or none of the sort?

If I could use a song, it would be "You Never Give Me Your Money" by the Beatles. An age killing song.
If I could use another song, it would be "O Sweet Nothin" by the Velvet Underground.

Will we take these magic feelings of nowhere to go, and use it to better the men and women standing next to us?

Perhaps these are just my ideals. But I think generalizations of contemporary life are always based on ideals. and Ideals on ideas. Ideas the foundation of change, of ideals becoming reality.

today, I feel as contemplative as a giant, as intangible as the wind.

5/3/11

Rockin

tired. so tired of thinking.
But loving music like it is yesterday. Like it is tomorrow.
This is music for the old man in the rocking chair with his banjo and whiskey.
drunk, but not too drunk, with his newly awoken tired bones, content.

Prodigal Son - Rolling stones
Strangers - The Kinks
Papa Rolled His Own - Tommy james and the shondells
Maggie Mae - Beatles
Dear Doctor - The Rolling Stones
For You Blue - Beatles
You Gotta Move - Rolling Stones
I Know Who I Am - Tommy james and the shondells
Death of a Clown - The Kinks
Two Of Us - Beatles
This Time Tomorrow - The Kinks
Factory Girl - Rolling Stones
Makin Good Time - Tommy James and the shondells
Rocky Racoon - The Beatles

Do you ever think of the road that you have not been on, the one formed from maybe yourself, but definitely from your perception of the world? This music puts me at the end of this road (which is most likely, somewhere in the middle of the road where I finally found peace, which is what I'm after right?). Ahhhhhhhh harp harp, sing of my soul, use it on your lips.

4/18/11

BLUE

I love giving my hands to the sky. I don't do it often.
but in Seattle, some days deserve it.

The morning that has been christened by the sun fills your nose with existence.
Walk and walk to where the leaves end, to the blue

The lake lay blue below the hill,
O'er it, as I looked, there flew
Across the waters, cold and still,
A bird whose wings were palest blue.
The sky above was blue at last,
The sky beneath me blue in blue,
A moment, ere the bird had passed,
It caught his image as he flew.

open up your neck today.
surrender.

this is perhaps what it feels like to be in a church worship service?

4/12/11

PLANET FORMERLY known

I'll be published on The Planet Formerly Known As Earth in a few days. it's a collection of doomsday material on a lit blog. They have really awesome stuff on there. read them before we;re all dead!!

4/11/11

A playlist about BABY.

I spent most of the day making this and then listening to it. odd satisfaction in it. I feel equally as fulfilled creating a poem as I do a playlist like this. They move me. the light and heavy moods of love and want. Oh I want you so bad it's driving me mad driving me mad//
I can't imagine anyone not being torn even a little by ray's voice.

Bad Boy - The Jive Bombers
My Baby! - Ray Charles
You and Me - Penny & the Quarters
Mama Don't Like My Man - Sharon Jones & the Dap Kings
Baby It's You - the Beatles
After Laughter Comes Tears - Wendy Rene
Cherry - The Jive Bombers
I Cried a Tear - Penny & the Quarters
I Want My Baby Back - David Bowie
La Vie En Rose - Edith Piaf
You Are Giving Me Some Other Love - Penny & the Quarters
Be My Baby - The Ronettes
Comeback Baby - Ray Charles

Be my baby!!! who is your baby? whose baby? whooose? These songs belong with a lover. Your lover. Or deep inside your chest. open your chest. fuck the decemberists. fuck the ________. be a real person, not as you KNOW how, but as you once were, when you were born, when you were a baby. be mine. i want you. saxophoneeeeEEEE!!!

Croon

I am dreaming of a different girl.
She leans forward and pulls me in.
What is her name?
She has two.
She is not one.

I wake up in light through the tree, in love.
I am the Sun King, for a moment. Sing.
I am awake. Why?
There is no love here.
The sun is still here.

Beer walkabout and I see her, the dream.
I call her the other love again.
I am unsure of her.
Her dress lingers on red, or blue.
I don't think she should come home with me.

Night.
I am in the space of the black window. My room.
Arched back captured by the couch, head expanded.
I am the walls, I am the bed, I am the dead air.
In the center, The radio scratches its throat.
Women holler with hips and shoulders, "Be my baby!"
I am down in my heart.
Baby.
Lover.
Darling.
Do I want you because you are none of these?

that magic feeling
Nowhere to go

3/20/11

jesus is back at some point

DEar ,

do you experience the dead sea?
The only way you can, in your head.

That seems to mean that I don't know what's going on. Life is awesome, I think, but it is artistically dead. unsure of what that means?

There is a large disconnect between my inner voice and outer voice these days. Inner voice has been stifled, or on vacation, at the hospital, with lazy legs, with malnourished...donuts...

mind will wander to the laziest field....

google. gaggle. peter's punch. fiend. weather fixable constable.

mind will dot off on the page...full of heavy hair. but looking up. Loki in the sky.

To the garage scene, The Kinks were more important than the Beatles.

2/15/11

I am dead man

1/5/11



This guy seems like a decent man, hope this works out for him.

1/2/11

echos moron

I have no new thoughts today
I knew nothing today in my cubicle room I did the f9 thing on my old/new macbook
all day, I had no new thoughts today
I knew nothing today I played a game where all I did was click 2-3 times every 10-15 minutes
all day, I have no new thoughts
today I put Jungle Book into the VCR and went to my bed to sleep before feature presentation
I know nothing knew nothing new this day
I ate mini portions of fried rice 8 times in 8 hours today
I think
I will clean my room the rest of the day
and tomorrow I will live here.