iDallas!
lonely again.
I’m so hard to please. I always want something other than what I have.
I think it might be a fear of commitment sort of thing, but I dunno. Maybe I’m just picky… but what if I really do miss the magic moment while I’m all caught up with my self and my silly worries?
There is magic in this group. Real magic. We don’t all get along, but we must all play our roles. I guess the trick now is to figure out what form those roles must take.
olive oil runs through the streets of baton rouge, and it’s a crime because it gets in the way of the water delivery truck, or something more meaningful perhaps.
We must work together to ever hope to explore anything beyond the reaches of mear human endeavor. We are not bound by what we have been taught. We are not bound by what we have seen. We are bound by fear and trust.
Cry. Cry like the wind told you to, and make the wind never forget it. Tell someone else to cry today.
I wish the world a happy hello.
I wish to you a happy hello.
I wish to me a happy hello, and perhaps
a thank you and good wishes, too.
I hear my name ring through your teeth,
so false and shimmering they are.
I feel my heart spring up from my grave,
the day of my untimely death.
I wait and watch as my memory crumbles,
the last thing I have left.
I mist and tear when a movie ends,
and the good guy doesn’t win.
So, I wish to you, and yours and ours,
a happy happy day. I hope to you all
good things come now and forever on.
hot tub
swirling water around my ears.
drowzy giggle.
slip back and fall down.
dim dum.
zim zum.
zee.
people don’t live their lives today. They wake up when an electronic device tells them to. They read about people they don’t know and will never know in a newspaper delivered by somebody they will probably never meet. then they eat processed food and top it off with some vitamins just to be sure they remain healthy and happy. then they drive to a manufactured job providing unnecessary services for unnecessary people. Then they spend their time thinking about doing things that don’t matter with people they’d like to know. Then they come home and pretend they have hobbies.
vive.
We watched explosives light up the sky.
We are so goddamned enlightened.
The golden era of the Western Age.
Hah ha.
Laugh with me, and fix your mussed
hair. Or err,
alone.
Layers of musty, green leaf
drift and fill the underground room.
The crayola colors drip from wax candles above. Naked morons bend and boil right over them… public sizzles.
The future is something. Different. Little. Yellow. Anything, but this pain.
We hold our arms together and stamp our feet in the dust. Feel the wash sweep over, and breath the glory in.
Together, we have found you. Alone among the stars. Tired and waiting for your moment to come.
Knowing. Seeing. Thinking.
Despite all the magick things to think about, I can still see it all slip by all these people. They sit still and they laugh and they sip their long island ice teas, and they feel proud of themselves and of their position in life. An american life is composed of a series of snapshots of this and that, Kodak moments. There is no continuity or memory. Everything turns out ok in the end.
We’re so sad.
A refreshing, slow day yesterday keeps me humming to myself today. I’m not too worried about this or that thing, or that or this problem. I’m wandering from thought to thought where just days ago, I was trying hard not to race. I do feel that maybe something solid has been lifted from our shoulders, though I don’t want to be too quick to assume. And maybe it’s all just magick, and maybe I believe it.