up at Four.

the worst is when i wish i would shut up
after ive said it all.
thats the worst.

dead bolt

if my door is locked
it means i was dancing last night
but if i answer
the music wont be as loud.

take into account
that i am a woman.
does that happen
when its seamless?
wait, wait
does that happen?

haha, no.
and thats why im laughing.

the only reason i believe in a god
is because something has to see this.
o read it
yea fuck off
see it, some movie....
oh yes do you know how much time that takes?
even if yes again
affirmative
yes doesnt mean i am telling the truth

kerry powell will know all
but he'll never forget my letter.

i want to die inside a broccoli cart.
cooked or raw?
bite the taste change
how does that happen
someone knows
but im the one thats eating it.

you all with your fucking music.
make it. be a ...............................composer.
say it outloud with just you and then
tell me about your fucking music.

hey shit man
this album doesnt come out till march
but i got it.
and i love it.
and i fuck the people in the ass who make it.
god i love it.
i go to shows
yea maybe thats how they make it
they dont care about you
but ill idolize them
and think about me
in front of my god damn box
reliving the same things
i felt
for free.

it costs nothing.
you know youre on top.
one leg left
one right
rocking it back and forth
wishing the drop outside the window
before it comes.

ever pause
at planes
at sirens
at the emergency
yes of course you do

(elapsed time)

Crescendo, my friends and i will hear you around 2am

after that, pp with someone please?

No, i honestly dont think so.
There is an ice cream cone: fresh strawberry from a hand-cranked churn in the middle of a sunny california field.
Italio Marchiony asks me if i would like to have this ice cream cone.
I say sure, why not.
He hands it to me and I lap it up .

Did i really want that ice cream cone?
No, i didn't really want it, but it was there and it seemed yummy so i thought
sure, why not.

I have absolutely no idea what im talking about
because i started reading about the history of ice cream.

My point
is stuck in my eye.

I'm saying i haven't desired a relationship in a long time, but if something is offered
sure, why not.
i think i am heartless. I dont know
i care a lot more about ice cream than i do about this.

so anyway, lets get off track and a little more abstract because that's where im at.
drop it like its hot.
yes, that makes sense.

ok no. more talking. i wanted to say that i was drunk last night:
vodka+cranberry juice. vodka+ginger soda. beer.
vodka and ginger soda alone do not taste that great together. Think of this combination then throw in some more sauces. then tell me what you came up with.
which you wont, but that's ok im just writing anyway.

hey, what's up.
oh ok...yea, keep walking.
right. it's all in my head anyway.


i wanted to say that i was so damn proud of the shit i put on here last night while i was gingered up and then i woke up this morning and read it again and i wonder, little elfkin man, how do you run my brain when i'm drunk to make me think so godly of myself?
i stopped to think and now im tired of this subject. I can't wait for the elfkin man to come back and take the place of my cognizance. i didn't know that was spelled with a z. oh yes, i can hear his little push cart coming up the drive now.

anyway, im going to eat:
garlic pepper potatoes and sweet onion with a tomato bacon dipping sauce.
(kroger sliced potatoes in a can with sprinkling from a bottle and kroger tomato bacon salad dressing. The sweet onion is for real though)

peace.

love

i just gave an invisible audience
an audible lecture
on love
in technological terms

if you have a prejudice against video games
please update your flashplayer
or whatever has updated that since then.

i have all the mum albums
and im going to be oinked out of the pigpen
for my love
of theft
and walking around, plugged in and out of
it.

so if you see me
you'll understand.

if you love
and let them
you'll also understand.

im sorry world

since i dont have an image to upload upon some thoughts...

i'm sorry world
that i steal from the artists
because i am broke
and bored
and that coming home means coming home to
the endless world of being a pirate
stealing from the ones i have sought to become.

this says a lot about self sacrafice
says a lot about why
says a lot about the virtue of passing time
because that's the only thing that seems right.

but i still do
sitting here, sifting through endless files with endless particles of
Kb KB Mb MB Gb and GB
how am i ever gonna get this right
ill still byte the bits
with skinned teeth and the help
of someone that knows more
than i do. puts me in a place between me and you.

i lost my favorite
black velvet tipped pen
so long ago that i still remember
but it came up as the last thing
klunk klunking in the dryer.
i took it out,
astonished like the last note i left john lewis
that was never found on some doorstep in florida

uncapped it
made two marks on
the skin of my left hand
just above the part you can pull
between the horizon and the vertical
of the L
where most people place the pen
to write.
its called a 'less than sign'

but left or right
i write with my finger tips
and i wonder if i could ever truly be
a liberalist.

no dead cells!

kellen wise is the nicest human on earth.
but he will not bum you a smoke.

reflecting upon this day of walking and talking and leaving and returning to places...

i want you to ask yourself why you are friends with the people you are friends with.

would they strain themselves to pull you out of a lava pit filled with leeches?
would they bash a croc on the head if your leg was stuck in the whirly twirlly clenches of its jaw?
would they fall through the second floor of a burning building just to re-climb whats left of the stairs and wrap you up and jump out the window into a dumpster full of broken glass vodka bottles?

or do they know you well enough to cross their arms and shake their heads and say
"lucky bastard."

im kidding. ive waited my whole life to find out what happens outside the safety of the system. I'm afraid of putting air into tires, but this is the real deal here, its no rubber.
pre-school
kindergarden
elementary school
middle school
high school
college
major

SPLAT.
jackson pollock across the world.
and if then the end-
ill have it no other way.

one big stupid grin.
some dirty hands.
and a stench that will never be forgotten.

mds

BOOBER

rah rah rah B bop

you know what i really dont like?

my mom told me i was a happy baby. I was chill. Nipple and all. Is that weird? Sorry, but its true.
at one point in my life i was uber superficially gorgeous. i was sexually attracted to myself.
i was such a good student. i got lots of A's and felt special in my honors classes.
i went to state meets and wore pin-striped jerseys and they all told me anything is possible if you put your mind to it.
so i did.
and now i cant get enough.

no, actually i didn't...i laughed at them and i let people win. Why? Well, i get really strong impulses to hang myself over the banister. Not in a suicidal way, i just want to. We worked a lot on visualization techniques during my swim career. I can clearly visualize mistakes before they happen and i laugh and carry through because how else would i know that i was right? I like being right, i'm not often right. I say don't make the same mistake twice because variety is the spice of life. Right? Right.

and everything happens for a reason.
yes, a bad one.

i have an idea.
you idolize me and i'll idolize you
then we'll shake hands and get on seperate trains
and i'll blow a kiss and you can blow the whistle
and we'll meet head on in a catastrophic clash
of contorted shiny metal.

I'm sorry world
i just dont know what to do for you.

leave me a note and tell me what your favorite instrument is.