Tuesday, November 30, 2010

in a different universe in a different place. we are subzero gravity and our intentions were floating in the sky. I want to love you in every sense of the syllables but this syllabus is much to wordy for either you or I. can we bring this step? the drop step and the constant change that we all require. I'm kind of running on the end of this type rope, and these are never things we talk about. Semi colon apostrophe s....can it get any colder than this? Earth sucker, fat mother fucker, let's run this to bangers and mash. You damn frankenstein. I want to laugh with the ease of air baked biscuits.
It's limp like the excuses of earth rotations blown high. Can we break the system with this codifying language. Let's put the antennae up and receive the AM/FM transceivers. let's run to the bottomless edge of this earth. Fucking blowing up the phone and let's telestream this xtra vision of earth and the pie sky. Burn the earth it's a case of arson. Listen to the song repeat and repeat. Let's tie this up in our own peaceful language. I need a space heater for this place in my chest. This heart of golden light and how we can run this game.

Sunday, November 28, 2010

shells shells sea shells by the seashore

the dreams of the nation were of sea shells and falling staircases. I had a dream recently where the the steps were falling away. Below the drop was about 100 feet onto the concrete. A bottle of whiskey was in my hand, it fell through my fingers shattering below into the dark night abyss. I crashed a car into a tree that wasn't mine. the shells of humanity were swaying in the breeze. I look at the sun and I see the day pass by, the seasons a standstill of the ever playing song on repeat. I want to stand on the cliff and peer down and not be afraid. I want to feel the tingle of life sensation in the breeze of life. The sudden nature of this feeling grips me in it's warm gentle hand. I want to see your face, your eyes, and the quiet solitude that it brings. Earth was here first, then dinosaurs which I almost mispelled. The quiet quotient of dreaming in the near color has brought memories into my mind like rolling clouds whispering sweet secrets about the keys of life and how we would transmit them. If there ever was a case to go to the ocean and hear the crashing waves this is it. Not like the near documentary of the purposeful life in which we lead. Lets go over there and look. Let's go over there and peer. Let's uncover our eyes and open our arms to the stranger stumbling through the night. you're awesome. you're awesome too we said. I want to explain, but it's oh so complicated in this brain of mine. Cancel the remix cancel the story. this was the loudest of dreams.

Friday, November 19, 2010


it was never explained...it can't be. three dots to put them out there. Pause, transgression and the early aggression of a time well spent. after hours spent running around like the party zombie.
One case of blu becks. One round of the hoolsbeck and you and I and run on sentence we could never decide. clip trop, back drop it's the soft orange glow of a scene never seen. I can count on my left hand how many times we talked intimately with one another. The silent secret of our secret embraces. let's run to the mountain let's run to the top. We bear witness to the traffic streams of our own children that we imagined one day. I can never say or never believe that we had crossed these paths in a time earlier said than done. you told me they were low fat nuts, but in reality it was all just a bag of nuts. Jet stream, blue stream, and we lived in a trailer by the see. You and me forgot not what we have not and continued in this brutal stream. Never enough is it what we said in between. I want to hold your hand, but only in the virtual world. I can see you slipping, but I'll be there to catch you in this wholly done ridiculous world.

Thursday, November 18, 2010

run it sadiq

Your mind is running. it's on the last leg of the marathon. you look at that bracelet and are reminded of the beautiful parts of life. You hear the angel, and think about all the angles of the world. the hard drive is broken, but don't think of all those losses in zeros and ones. If Earth were a plan it and a third rock from the sun. Where were we today? Blackout sun...I hardly remember.
In the night in the heat in the heat of the night we took showers made of gold. I can say that I barely recognize this person, they are a blurry mess of pixels and pixie dust. Can we remember,
the heart shaped hole in our hearts. I can't understand this, the messiness of a life gone awry.
It's like a rueben sandwhich, that's been splattered on rye. Live with the angels and fly with the eagles. Earth inhabits a constellation of broken records in stereo dream. We can fly into planets with balloon like landing gear. We can shoot them up like clay pigeons in the atmosphere. I've got this on lockdown....and we'll do an hardboiled egg eating contest like my friend Luke. Cool hands,
fly dress, and the everywhere in between. I'm here somewhere, just hit me up on my pager.

Thursday, November 11, 2010

life the circle and where we go

this is the complete. the inner circle. the never ending. the final thoughts of our lives and how we orbit one another. This is a 365 degree random selection of life and how we're going to to do this. Ready, set, go...for the next 365 days I'll be on here writing for anywhere from ten minutes to 30 minutes and expounding about the thin vagaries of life and how we should improve us, ourselves, and the life that surrounds. First I say in life you should have some loyalty, first if you do something dumb and unwarranted you should think about how it affects other people. Life is like a bunch of ground strokes, some shots you should take and some you should not. How about a shot across the bow? How about we go stern side. The vampires of LA suck and suck not realizing the blood supply will run out one of these days. The idiots of the world can hold onto their fake fashion and dumb fads. It's all like recycled diapers and I guess it's all about depends. The past is the past and it is something that should not hold you back. The time machine that is our minds is a jumble of wires and useless USB ports. I've gotta say that I'm pretty bummed about how things became and are. I've gotta say that I would never make tigers of paper mache and I would never hold the keys to the far flung planet of the stars. I can see the wilderness of everyone's heart and sometimes I wonder what the hell is happening. I'm on a runaway train with no conductor. I'm in the sub surface swimming below the surface with the wonders of the marine world. I'm in the echo spaces of your mind, constantly reverberating through the eyes of Minolta and the candyland schemes of the vampires of thought. I think this, the world is crushing and I think it's time to crush back. You want to roll? let's do it jelly belly, we'll see how this turns out. The world is made of xerox and unoriginal thought that you think you've made your own. Go on with this thought, but beware that it's made of paper walls with the artifice of the next Christmas ornament. Check the inbox of your mental fortitude and you'll see it is empty. It's unexpected, like life. take a snapshot. these things last longer.