where the spark beings.
(tribute to Kohei Mihara, sounds vs. words, pictures vs. images, and the culture gap. I wanna say Milton, but see, its all to the point of attempt)
would they look at me and think of when it will end. The drama, the cinema. The picture played out in anticipation.
No one meets anyone at the terminal. No one meets anyone with a coy stance, the one with a greeting worth the irritation that gives prelude to the runner up feeling to the word.
For clarity.
coy |koi|
(esp. of a woman)
making a pretense of shyness or modesty that is intended to be alluring but is often regarded as irritating.
(she treated him to a coy smile of invitation) ital.
O WORDS. O MY WORD.
i question sometimes.
why try to fit in a mans world when the world, let it be viewed as "owned" by men, struggle to define our actions, movements, intentions. O so many subjectivities! Does it not mean we wish to process the world by the same words? Like love, so to use such an unoperative word, define itself by only the one/two souls who wish to worship it.
Who needs a higher education in romantic literature when those that have expressed so many times ago are still expressing again and again.
Is that you? I thought this was supposed to be in confession.
write babies, write. Who else to hold to such an enduring term than those that take every moment as a a a a A A A A A A
RE-CREATION.
a rebirth. power and love to those nameless faces that have paved my way, but honey, did you get lost just the same?
over/under
what the fuck is whelm.
do we whelm the self or does the self whelm us.
what a preposterous philo-quasinum.
o i could shit a brick on words.
see, everyone understands that dont they.
good luck to you my intelects. good luck to you.
a world to impress, so the world to digress.
good luck to you with
hello.
goodbye.
we're so much cooler if we're multi-liguistic.
lets define, from once again, my mac push button F8, (what the (conpir))theorists) of apple think about
BEING SMART
INFORMAL having or showing a quick-witted intelligence.
i am excluding information to fit my own interpretation. thus, the media.
does objective journalism exist? a question i rub my eyes to and reach for something....my fridge.
i chill my whiskey.
i chill. sometimes.
i can only give something far more than objective. i give it my own.
i want to write my professors and tell them sionara...
ive meet someone that brings me to this place again
what can i say
i like recreational chemicals.
a vent? a moment. the night was meant to be mine, but honey monogomy was never my thing. plan my day around where i get my next fix and spend the rest thinking about where the world gets its next dollar.
discipline, like most things, comes in depleatable resources.
how do i explain to the ones ive lived up to that ive died short of the potential ive consumed.
Saturday, November 04, 2006
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