Your grape soda only cost me 67 cents for a two liter bottle. I do understand that a price that low is an absolute steal, but what you may have missed is that the whole object of stealing is to get something that is highly desirable without paying a price that reflects that desirability. As a black person I am telling you that your grape soda is the worst grape soda that has touched my taste buds in recent memory. It is the bargain basement ice beer of soda. The kind of soda that leaves you with a sugar hangover while you're drinking it. Please do better.
yours,
A concerned citizen
Clean with alcohol only. Do not attempt to replace blown fuses. Do not remove access panels. Return to certified mechanic for regular maintenance. Made in the USA.
1/26/11
1/21/11
Delays for the Right Reasons
I haven't forgotten your playlist. Well, it's my playlist too. I think this year I will use last.fm to help me make my selections as this is the first year I've used it all the way through. Granted the things that get played the most won't necessarily be the things worth including in a year capper, but it'll at least put me on the trail of what I was feeling when I heard the songs lesser played.
I was going to do it today, but I was sidetracked with picture recovery issues and food issues. I do miss having every single day more or less wide open. Well that's not even close to true. Wow, rose tints. I'm just so contented nowadays I feel like every minute I'm curled up in my bed is the minute just after an awesome orgasm and that kind of feeling can take the desire to make further improvements right out of your system.
Every single day was not wide open when I didn't have a job. It sucked. Job hunting was like trying to walk across a bog while looking for a piece of string that, if you found it and followed it long enough, would eventually lead you to a poorly paved stone pathway. I walked across that suck for so long the stone pathway I ended up finding 400 days and 200+ resume's and cover letters later might as well have been gold.
I don't feel bad that I feel pretty good now that I'm out of that hell system and finally into as close as I've been to what I can call "myself" since I knew there was such a thing as a self, but I can't forget that with a little more effort I can feel even better. Right now I've been eating vienna sausages on bread with cheese because I don't own a refrigerator. That's got to change. Did you know that you can spread Vienna sausages .like stiff butter? How gross is that? Not so bad once it gets into your mouth, but be ready to check your gag reflex mid construction.
The good news? I'm learning how to manage my time with respect to work. Expect poetry output to return to between 5 and 7 a week (though I haven't managed to lay them out daily at Auralport I do compose their bones daily during my 45 minute walks to and from work) and I want to be on here at least thrice a week, but for now it may just be on my two days off (whenever they fall, my schedule is kind of screwed up and changes week in and week out and sometimes midweek). I do really need to get back into Bits for Flames because I've been living some tales of interest (futurama reference) and some new characters are populating the universe and they need their stories told too, plus there's a fetal novel skulking around somewhere and I need to chip at it some more since it's two thirds done. That should be numbers, I know, but I'm working on a laptop sitting on my chest in the dark and I can't see the damn numbers and damnit I miss my desktop. I have go to go get that shit as soon as possible because this is not cool at all. I have fucking post partum depression over this shit.
I had another recurrence, in variable, of the dream where my teeth decay out of my mouth. This iteration was ridiculously graphic. It was so intense that when the rest of my dreamland travel came to a close and I opened my eyes the first thing I did was go to the bathroom and check that my teeth were still in my mouth. I mean it was absolutely that bad. In the dream one of my bottom front teeth was loose so I jiggled it and felt no pain so I pull it out, but the nerve was not separate from my gum, it was only completely numbed. The nerve pulled out with the same feeling of pulling thread out of a stitched wound and because I tugged the tooth so hard, thinking it wasn't connected to anything, I couldn't stop the swing of my arm before the unspooling nerve tore out several other teeth that then let this thick black fungal puss gush out of the sides of my molars which then collapsed like sink holes and my entire face just lit up with pain like fire axes. It sucked. It took hours of rinsing before it stopped hurting and didn't taste like ten kinds of filth and even then I ended up having to wrap my entire jaw closed so that the hollowed and eaten out remains of my bones wouldn't fall off of my skull before I could continue on.
Well anyway, what I mean to say is that I am delayed, but I promise you it's for the right reasons. Things are getting closer to being on track and there'll be more love and thought and things to rage and linger over as they do.
///Amon Tobin - "Bloodstone" this song makes me want to write a script for some science fiction noir, but mostly it punctuates evening walks through foreign and rain soaked suburban streets so well it's a little scary, but the kind of scary that makes you grin a little on the inside and hope that something horrible happens before your eyes just as it ends.
I was going to do it today, but I was sidetracked with picture recovery issues and food issues. I do miss having every single day more or less wide open. Well that's not even close to true. Wow, rose tints. I'm just so contented nowadays I feel like every minute I'm curled up in my bed is the minute just after an awesome orgasm and that kind of feeling can take the desire to make further improvements right out of your system.
Every single day was not wide open when I didn't have a job. It sucked. Job hunting was like trying to walk across a bog while looking for a piece of string that, if you found it and followed it long enough, would eventually lead you to a poorly paved stone pathway. I walked across that suck for so long the stone pathway I ended up finding 400 days and 200+ resume's and cover letters later might as well have been gold.
I don't feel bad that I feel pretty good now that I'm out of that hell system and finally into as close as I've been to what I can call "myself" since I knew there was such a thing as a self, but I can't forget that with a little more effort I can feel even better. Right now I've been eating vienna sausages on bread with cheese because I don't own a refrigerator. That's got to change. Did you know that you can spread Vienna sausages .like stiff butter? How gross is that? Not so bad once it gets into your mouth, but be ready to check your gag reflex mid construction.
The good news? I'm learning how to manage my time with respect to work. Expect poetry output to return to between 5 and 7 a week (though I haven't managed to lay them out daily at Auralport I do compose their bones daily during my 45 minute walks to and from work) and I want to be on here at least thrice a week, but for now it may just be on my two days off (whenever they fall, my schedule is kind of screwed up and changes week in and week out and sometimes midweek). I do really need to get back into Bits for Flames because I've been living some tales of interest (futurama reference) and some new characters are populating the universe and they need their stories told too, plus there's a fetal novel skulking around somewhere and I need to chip at it some more since it's two thirds done. That should be numbers, I know, but I'm working on a laptop sitting on my chest in the dark and I can't see the damn numbers and damnit I miss my desktop. I have go to go get that shit as soon as possible because this is not cool at all. I have fucking post partum depression over this shit.
I had another recurrence, in variable, of the dream where my teeth decay out of my mouth. This iteration was ridiculously graphic. It was so intense that when the rest of my dreamland travel came to a close and I opened my eyes the first thing I did was go to the bathroom and check that my teeth were still in my mouth. I mean it was absolutely that bad. In the dream one of my bottom front teeth was loose so I jiggled it and felt no pain so I pull it out, but the nerve was not separate from my gum, it was only completely numbed. The nerve pulled out with the same feeling of pulling thread out of a stitched wound and because I tugged the tooth so hard, thinking it wasn't connected to anything, I couldn't stop the swing of my arm before the unspooling nerve tore out several other teeth that then let this thick black fungal puss gush out of the sides of my molars which then collapsed like sink holes and my entire face just lit up with pain like fire axes. It sucked. It took hours of rinsing before it stopped hurting and didn't taste like ten kinds of filth and even then I ended up having to wrap my entire jaw closed so that the hollowed and eaten out remains of my bones wouldn't fall off of my skull before I could continue on.
Well anyway, what I mean to say is that I am delayed, but I promise you it's for the right reasons. Things are getting closer to being on track and there'll be more love and thought and things to rage and linger over as they do.
///Amon Tobin - "Bloodstone" this song makes me want to write a script for some science fiction noir, but mostly it punctuates evening walks through foreign and rain soaked suburban streets so well it's a little scary, but the kind of scary that makes you grin a little on the inside and hope that something horrible happens before your eyes just as it ends.
1/11/11
The Locusts Only Took What They Could Carry
I'm here now on the other side of an ongoing experiment that yielded mixed results. I thought for some time about a fun way to combine the word success with the word failure before moving on to more important things. Well, not necessarily important in the sense of urgency as much as important in the sense of size because clearly there is nothing more urgent than finding a way to successfully combine those two words in their most appealing and natural formation and then be the first one to say the new word. The point is this: things have changed.
Life at a higher resolution has had its benefits and its heels. The bridge has dissolved, but has been replaced with something... something else that is difficult to describe. Do you remember televisions with knobs? You might own one now. Well life has become like a television with knobs and there is a hand, no not even a force that centered, but the grooves in the switch that produce the clicking sound and the firm resistance to the turning of the switch are, no not even worn down, they're simply not there. I tune in and every channel, each channel, isn't seated on the face of the tube and its frustrating. But even that isn't really a close enough descriptor. Instead of conversations there are conversations and monitors and levels and time sequencers and gauges and trackers and feedback switches and time code and frame rates and the picture isn't sitting and no ones shutting up and on top of that there are people coming and going at will and moving things and leaving things and at times I can't remember how to walk and I end up spending twenty minutes of a forty minute walk trying to redevelop a comfortable gait and I can't remember how I forgot in the first place.
The ceiling was full of mouths a few days ago. It was disgusting. They weren't people mouths though. Actually they were kind of like meaty valves or something. They kept popping open and closed with these little clicks and it made my skin itch all morning. And then the next night someone ducked their head into my slightly ajar bedroom door and I thought they would leave, but then he saw me and sidled up to my closet against the wall like i wouldn't know he was there. Luckily my phone went off and the light burned him away, but it still left me slightly shaken. There are a pair of women where I work and a man. They're also bad company. The good news is what?
I moved.
Free. Finally free from continuing abuse and shitty fucking family and it is lovely. Pittsburgh is my home now and probably the only place I know of that will have me outright with little or no reservations at all. Well, not entirely true. There is of course the body of people that I want to be connected with who don't feel the same way for whatever reasons, but that's okay because here I actually have friends who actually want to see me along with a context that actually allows that to happen on a regular basis. I have my own place and a bed too. Not much else, but I don't really mind it all that much. I do still need my soul mate computer, but that reunion will have to wait a little while longer. It does mean that my music and drawing will be extremely limited for a while (amongst other things).
I guess I'm still pretty scattered. I saw pictures today of my old friend. I was supposed to send her family a gift, but that was also right around the time I was cold starting my new life so I never had many consecutive hours to dedicate my brain to it. I'm still going to do it. If there's one thing I do every year I would like that to be it. At least until I know they don't really give a shit. Apparently she was here. In this very city only days ago. I wonder sometimes if I'm excluded because I can't be included. It's upsetting. Not in a broken heart kind of way, but in a "what the fuck I thought we were friends" kind of way. Broken heartedness you can get used to, but the former will always cut me fresh and a little deeper with repetition.
I have no idea where to meet people now. I have zero interest in vaginas. Which is also somewhat new. There was some lingering interest even a couple months ago. But I guess I am just gay. Isn't that funny? Well it made me chuckle a little. It's definitely something I never really thought I would say. I still sometimes think back and ask myself "what happened to me?" But maybe it's one of those things like Meyer's Brigs preferences. Just changes over time. Who knows. I'm not really sure where I'm going with that, or most of this.
I suppose I feel like I've escaped from certain destruction in New York and Maryland by cutting off the things the circumstances were latched onto. They've basically fucked me out of 20 years of my life plus however many years it'll take me to reach the earning potential of someone who reached their masters degree and worked in their field for ten years. They've set me back 96k in debt and a five year relationship. I feel like I'm harping, so I'll get to the point.
The point is they smashed and grabbed and smashed and grabbed, but in the end there's only so much they could fit in their clutches and I'm gone away from them for good. Out of reach. Sure my student loans defaulted, but I have nothing that can be taken by the government or a judge. And what I will eventually have will be so small it won't even matter. Sure, they swear they'll cut me off, but I've already been cutoff for the better part of a decade. I didn't escape on my own either. Some friends helped make it happen in a pretty huge way and I owe them each a huge debt of gratitude and dollar bills, but collectively it is quite easy to say they basically saved my life.
I still think about killing myself every other day, but the new potential is so great and unexplored that I can't in good conscience do so and it's been so long since I felt that way. I'm broke, but I'm happy. Life at a higher resolution has its downside and its confusion and its hates and pains and I may need to reaffix filters at some point, but for now I am aware of every passing hour and that awareness is palatable. As a direct result creativity and sanity are suffering, but day to day functionality simply is. I'm proud of myself. A little bit.
I owe you a year end playlist, don't I?
///David Bowie & Philip Glass - "Heroes (Aphex Twin Remix)" We could be. So we were.
Life at a higher resolution has had its benefits and its heels. The bridge has dissolved, but has been replaced with something... something else that is difficult to describe. Do you remember televisions with knobs? You might own one now. Well life has become like a television with knobs and there is a hand, no not even a force that centered, but the grooves in the switch that produce the clicking sound and the firm resistance to the turning of the switch are, no not even worn down, they're simply not there. I tune in and every channel, each channel, isn't seated on the face of the tube and its frustrating. But even that isn't really a close enough descriptor. Instead of conversations there are conversations and monitors and levels and time sequencers and gauges and trackers and feedback switches and time code and frame rates and the picture isn't sitting and no ones shutting up and on top of that there are people coming and going at will and moving things and leaving things and at times I can't remember how to walk and I end up spending twenty minutes of a forty minute walk trying to redevelop a comfortable gait and I can't remember how I forgot in the first place.
The ceiling was full of mouths a few days ago. It was disgusting. They weren't people mouths though. Actually they were kind of like meaty valves or something. They kept popping open and closed with these little clicks and it made my skin itch all morning. And then the next night someone ducked their head into my slightly ajar bedroom door and I thought they would leave, but then he saw me and sidled up to my closet against the wall like i wouldn't know he was there. Luckily my phone went off and the light burned him away, but it still left me slightly shaken. There are a pair of women where I work and a man. They're also bad company. The good news is what?
I moved.
Free. Finally free from continuing abuse and shitty fucking family and it is lovely. Pittsburgh is my home now and probably the only place I know of that will have me outright with little or no reservations at all. Well, not entirely true. There is of course the body of people that I want to be connected with who don't feel the same way for whatever reasons, but that's okay because here I actually have friends who actually want to see me along with a context that actually allows that to happen on a regular basis. I have my own place and a bed too. Not much else, but I don't really mind it all that much. I do still need my soul mate computer, but that reunion will have to wait a little while longer. It does mean that my music and drawing will be extremely limited for a while (amongst other things).
I guess I'm still pretty scattered. I saw pictures today of my old friend. I was supposed to send her family a gift, but that was also right around the time I was cold starting my new life so I never had many consecutive hours to dedicate my brain to it. I'm still going to do it. If there's one thing I do every year I would like that to be it. At least until I know they don't really give a shit. Apparently she was here. In this very city only days ago. I wonder sometimes if I'm excluded because I can't be included. It's upsetting. Not in a broken heart kind of way, but in a "what the fuck I thought we were friends" kind of way. Broken heartedness you can get used to, but the former will always cut me fresh and a little deeper with repetition.
I have no idea where to meet people now. I have zero interest in vaginas. Which is also somewhat new. There was some lingering interest even a couple months ago. But I guess I am just gay. Isn't that funny? Well it made me chuckle a little. It's definitely something I never really thought I would say. I still sometimes think back and ask myself "what happened to me?" But maybe it's one of those things like Meyer's Brigs preferences. Just changes over time. Who knows. I'm not really sure where I'm going with that, or most of this.
I suppose I feel like I've escaped from certain destruction in New York and Maryland by cutting off the things the circumstances were latched onto. They've basically fucked me out of 20 years of my life plus however many years it'll take me to reach the earning potential of someone who reached their masters degree and worked in their field for ten years. They've set me back 96k in debt and a five year relationship. I feel like I'm harping, so I'll get to the point.
The point is they smashed and grabbed and smashed and grabbed, but in the end there's only so much they could fit in their clutches and I'm gone away from them for good. Out of reach. Sure my student loans defaulted, but I have nothing that can be taken by the government or a judge. And what I will eventually have will be so small it won't even matter. Sure, they swear they'll cut me off, but I've already been cutoff for the better part of a decade. I didn't escape on my own either. Some friends helped make it happen in a pretty huge way and I owe them each a huge debt of gratitude and dollar bills, but collectively it is quite easy to say they basically saved my life.
I still think about killing myself every other day, but the new potential is so great and unexplored that I can't in good conscience do so and it's been so long since I felt that way. I'm broke, but I'm happy. Life at a higher resolution has its downside and its confusion and its hates and pains and I may need to reaffix filters at some point, but for now I am aware of every passing hour and that awareness is palatable. As a direct result creativity and sanity are suffering, but day to day functionality simply is. I'm proud of myself. A little bit.
I owe you a year end playlist, don't I?
///David Bowie & Philip Glass - "Heroes (Aphex Twin Remix)" We could be. So we were.
1/4/11
Back From Space
Hello world.
I've missed you. <3.
///DJ Hooligan - "Hear You Now (Grand Chillas Mix)" i see you in so many ways.
I've missed you. <3.
///DJ Hooligan - "Hear You Now (Grand Chillas Mix)" i see you in so many ways.
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