Found you.

Water People and the House Over the Underground Spring

Urges come and go, (too easily sometimes it seems). To throw things, tables and chairs, to yell. to spit the venom that comes to the surface and leaks through my stare. Like the underground stream that runs under my house, it's a structural problem, you cannot stop the water from seeping up and flowing through that mysterious pipe, when it rains, it will always flood.





I want to pretend that water table is a subject of fiction, that I cannot possibly be always standing on water, that water only exists in lakes, rivers, and oceans. My foundation will always become waterlogged. With every rain, the level will rise and my feet will stand in cold water that leaves my skin the color of rust. Over a lifetime a house made of timber will surely rot and sooner or later, walls will crumble.

Side Effects

+

Oh good, I'm sure this is normal; I'm sure this happens all the time.

School Marm Says:

That's it. Nice job kids.

Watching Time

The club of blue and orange, white and cream. Where words and numbers would flow from our hands with the speed of a waking dream. With a wink and smile we would dive in the abyss, a journey into intellectual bliss. Like children at a video arcade, clutching the coin weight in our pockets, we filled our lungs as full as we could to dive down into a dark mysterious world, where the deeper you went, the higher you rose into the atmosphere.

We all knew it couldn't last forever. We practiced the social etiquette of reciprocity. We held the beast it in quiet respect, even when we flew too close to the sun and felt the burn on our skin. We knew sooner or later the others would catch on, but until then we ran as fast as we could while the beast pumped through our veins, innervating our brain with the humble power of god.

We were the The Secret Society of Alchemists.
Flying to perfection, we were watching time.

Intervene

Doc: "You need to embrace the idea of medication."

Shadow: ["You need to get better at your job."]

Cinematographical Crack

Sexy Beast..... Monster

Ash: You still don't understand what you're dealing with, do you? Perfect organism. Its structural perfection is matched only by its hostility.
Lambert: You admire it.
Ash: I admire its purity. A survivor... unclouded by conscience, remorse, or delusions of morality.

Gold Day

I woke up this morning in my own house, in my own bed, to the sound of my family getting ready to go to work. It was a beautiful feelings.

Academic Triage/Tactical Manuevers

A tribute to Kuniva

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=X2LTL8KgKv8&ob=av3e

Dollhouse Rainy Morning

. well, Isn't the world beautiful this morning?


Little men working in the big doll house across from me; a pretty painted wall of chairs and coffee berries painted on the window like a holographic logo, while learners and teachers and doers walk by purposefully with hoods and leaned umbrellas; inside my body lounges on warm leather with 10 fingers busy pressing buttons, eyes busy reading, mind busy finding meaning; outside their body busy staying upright and moving forward, feet touching rubber touching wet pavement and muddy sod squares, mind busy racing to their destination, their feet finding the next sound step. Outside, wood, metal and heavy machinery bang and rattle like the coffee machine and register behind the counter. Outside birds chirp because it's the thing to do right now and inside the patrons are singing little songs to each other too. Inside, in my head, Animal Collective is making funny noises and singing words I can't understand but that sound nice.

Harley Quinn

1





2





3

Don't call my name.

Out of Africa

In my dream I must help someone carry the remains/entrails of someone from the village. I am there when someone performs a ritual with them/on them. I am unsure why or how they died and I am both sickened and ashamed of them. When I return to the room where the entrails were originally stored but are no longer there I am worried that the room is somehow carrying a disease and that people will find me out.

In my dream I am in a place where survival is a daily task. I feel helpless. I am able to buy a healthy beautiful piglet and I do not plan on eating it. I feel happy. It turns out that the piglet is sick and I must turn it over to where the sick piglets are feeding from a weak mother. I feel helpless and horrible. Later the sick piglet will be butchered for food for people that are also already sick. I feel sick. I feel hopeless.

I am barely surviving.
I am scared.
I am sacrificing my resources to save something else. a beautiful little piglet.
I am giving up the something once it changes for the worse. sick piglet
I feel helpless and horrible. it is sick and will be used for food for the sick.
I am crying. I see the weak pig mother and the dozen sick piglets trying to feed.
I am feeling sick. I must abandon the piglet. I failed.

I work hard to try to save something from certain death but I do not have the supplies to do so, and seem to have made the situation worse

___________________________________________________________________________________________


There are things that I keep hidden for a reason, things I let lie. In my mind, getting started on this assignment would be a sign of progress and 11th self-salvation. I was relieved when I awoke this morning and remembered my dreams; I would have material to use for the assignment. After recalling my dreams I feel sick. Upon writing the last line and reading the instructions I feel like I have struck a sleeping body in the snow with an icepick. Blood is tainting the white snow. I try to cover it with more snow and the red seeps through. Fcuk.

Re:

..because she started raised GaGa before she ran away to the circus.

Figo and Peechz

On to the next one.

...while were on the genre and things that are awesome, this rocked my world just a bit.

The Eastern Bloc

Oh and apparently I love Russian rap.

Playing Ball

Soundtracks to our 2 AM in the morning mulitethnic game of keep it in the air.

Chess, that will do.

On the right one, in the middle between the other two.

Particulate matter

It's hard to explain to most people why there is still particulate matter in the atmosphere and what is has quietly done to my world; ashes of a belief that burned to the bone and left an unidentified heap of pain and broken dreams. She made it real, even though all that is left of her is a thought and a residual scent of a campfire that has settled in the back of my mind like a night terror long after you have awoken.

Before I drove home to the woods I sat on the curb in the parking lot and listened to this epic on repeat.




And when this one came over the radio on my drive home I thought of the smoke that was filling my lungs and I thought of her body lying still on the ground of a shack and her flesh burning away to nothing. I wonder if laid her down gently or just tossed her down.

I hear it often on the radio now, I wan't to tell people they don't know, they don't understand. Maybe they know, maybe everyone knows and have all along. Maybe they have gotten used to the hurt, or maybe they don't feel pain the same way I do.



It's raining outside, started this morning, and it will probably rain all day. I will use the rain to wash the sky of the smoke billows that emerged and snuck away into the evening sky as her soul faded into the trees, and the thought of something horrible and real crept in through my nostrils.

She said sooner or later they'd find me out.

It's Fall again. Don't worry, it happens.

Bath Haus of GaGa

I sort of love Lady GaGa now. Her music videos are pure awesome. The white latex looking monster with the mask and boots seems like a good idea for the end of this month.



Enjoy.