AUTHOR.CALHO: If I didn't write it, I would be hitch hiking cross country to Maine and then Alaska in that order. While taking frequent breaks to spread leaflets. And sit in diners. And write on things because I wasn't at a computer. I may still do that in a few years. Writing this also helps me forget about and better understand the limitations of being human, and keeps me busy enough to allow me no free time to burn the world down.

THEMATIC.ABOUT : Collapse often. The things that hold people together and hold them apart and scatter brains. The things that make thoughts go boom. The things that ooh and aah and [expletive deleted]. Sometimes poking around the margins where responsibility ends and the only one to look to is the Original Equipment Manufacturer and say "but, I already pressed 9 for more options and the menus are exactly the same. Can you just replace it?" The answer will be: "please hold." Sometimes hanging out in dark corners. Sometimes following the train tracks. Looking for ways out and ways in and all the while sharing the things seen and heard and done and drawn and written and scorched and healed and teased and caged and dreamed along the way.

4/5/11

Retool and Industry.

I've been task locked, I will admit. Moving on to what? To separate things. I would think. The stars are up tonight. They're mapping me and it's good. I'm thinking about scarification. Or at least a more direct method of production. To accompany. Not so much an accompaniment as a new machine I can introduce to the factory floor and see if they'll pick it up and make good use of it.

I was trying to think of the last time I felt like I was the center of the universe and I can't really remember a time, but that's also probably because my memory basically ends around age 9. Which I'm thankful for. Evening running backward past 11 things basically get so garbled and hazy I'm not really sure if what I'm remembering happened then or earlier. I'm okay with that. If I could wipe everything up through highschool that would just be peaches.

Tomorrow will start a week of industry. I haven't declared one of those in a while, but it's past time. Let's talk about other things. Not to forget, but to make new memories. My time is short. My dreams are long. 4 hours. Not enough. Someone told me I need to get more hours at my job. Honestly, I'm terrified of that. If there's one thing I know about myself it's that we couldn't support that kind of load if we tried. Only so many channels. Let's do some living. Let's turn some metal. Let's not forget our new selves atop the frames still falling.

///Way Out West - "The Gift" the moon and the stars.
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