It my most mundane desire to acquire a washing machine and dyer for this apartment. How exciting, eh? Oh, my life is SO exciting, surely, you must days are PACKED with adventure. Why, I'm so occupied that I don't have time to update this old thing anymore!!!

You fools don't believe that do you? TEST: What is true in the above paragraph? The first sentence. Everyone who guessed wrong can be dropped in the pirahna pit.

I am being cruel, I apologize. But laundry is something worth being flustered about when it's...not here. I'll go into this no further. I dream of happy times when my laundry can done in my home, oh what lovely times we'll have together! My birthday is coming up and that's all I want for it: a washer and dyer. I'll write a love poem about it...
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You could call it my obsession for lack of your own but I believe it is obvious that my true obsession is writing, which should be clear to any poor soul who has ever had the joyous misfortune to know me. I enjoy the feel of the pen in my hand, the formation of the words and sentences in my head, the beauty of the ink producing them on the paper, the life they bring to the paper and the whole process of making it real in this often disappointing physical world. How interesting and beautiful, even if it be intrinsically hideous, does the physical world become in wirting. Just as noise is transformed to music, so does writing transform this common world into a fresh and staggeringly beautiful one. Praise Original Sin! So that we may work harder to transcend it and thus are rewarded with greater things than we would ever find if we were born without it.

It may be strange that I am sharing this with all of "you" but I cannot contain my thankfulness after I have written something that returns the great favor that literature does for me. I want to shout "Yes! Oh, that is good, let's keep going, we're getting closer to the complete experience with every word." I can tell that Shakespeare often felt that way too, by reading his work I know that when someone loves writing they rejoyce to themselves, if not to others, when they've captured something good. It's like catching an enormous and mouth-watering fish, that first thrill of knowing you're in process of making a great feast and you are going to cook it and serve it with provisions of love to everybody and that is the best part, in my opinion.

Now, I am in awe of the English language and the way that others treat it. It stil atonishes me everyday that we are all speaking English, although some agrgue against that statement. I cnnot be DEAF so what can I do but hear? And what I hear is worthy of a thousand cringes. Now, mind you, I'm not the most eloquent speaker in the world, but I have more than five words in my extended vocabulary! I am sick to death of the synesthestic combination of orange and yellow that constantly passes through my mind when I hear the most common curse word of my peers and the people of New York City. I refuse to express it's name here because I am a rebel. Besides it take little to NO imagination to guess what it is. How dare you FOOLS (another orange word) abuse what could be a great word to express deepest emphasis, you cannot tell me that in your shallow lives you're constantly in a state of such intesnity that you feel the urge to utter it every moment you deign to speak!!!! That would describe me, more than likely and I know that practicing discipline upon my river of thoughts that it results in tributaries of creative and surprising alternatives. But no one is interested in alternatives these days, people are so main stream it's sickening. They won't even careen their necks to look down the block at what might be beyond their own farmilar stoops. For one who has careened and traveled so far from my stoop, I will state simply that I feel like an alien among the average human being. Or rather, I feel like a human being among the average alien. So whenver you see me kicking my constant can, that's why. And so I have learned to kick it with joy and friendship, I kick it with delight and it keeps me from going mad. O gracious can! My one and true companion, I'd be lost without you.
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    complacent complacent

Contemptuous summer.

Hello dead friends and fellow corpses, or rather brain dead bodies of human likeness.

Why is that when I post something I actually care about no one responds?

Here are a few things I could post and be sure to get a response:




Now that I have your attention, if even I do, I wouldn't put it past this shallow desensitized generation, pathetic souls, I seem miserable to you but you must THINK about the device through which I am communicating. Why on earth would I be ever able to communicate my ideas clearly through a MACHINE? Can we all just rip up a dollar bill for a moment instead of clutching to it like a lifeline? Slaves, I am in bondage too, my body that desires food and water, and shockingly, tells me not to die. The difference between a free man and a slave is not a physical matter ANYMORE, in this country at least. And even if it were, there are slaves who are free and masters who are chained. Freedom is not money. Should I repeat that? FREEDOM IS NOT MONEY. The only way a man can be free is by.....using his mind. It is a creating. Creation is freedom. Or better, channeling creation is freedom. The unseen world of creation is not creation at all but a constant recycled mass of spirits, for lack of a better word. Now, my fellow slaves who cling so lovingly to thier shackles, if you want to be free, take the lungs of your mind and breathe in the potential creation. This is perhaps an adavanced step in the process, to call it such a hateful thing, but here's something any healthy mind is capable of doing: wonder. If your wondering leads you to asking yourself "WHAT THE HELL?" or simply "Wha...?" or 'Whoa," then you are getting somewhere. If you've never experienced something is porbably because this sick society has lost touch with what is essential to human experience and it isn't even aware that is has. I believe I have lost your concern, let me change that.


Go drink the ocean. Kiss a hurricane. Serenade speeding traffic. Introduce your brain to bullets. DIE. Anyone who takes this literally is a perfect example of why this race of humans is in serious trouble. Do something uncool. Embrace your uncool urges. Forget recreation. If you've never created before how can you recreate? That's like trying to vomit when you haven't eaten anything. It goes against the laws of nature. These are the laws that keep us slaves, by the way. I'm telling you how to break the laws! Isn't that appealing? Isn't it hip and cool? Isn't it rebellious? There are many truths yet to be revealed. Now is the time to reveal them because most people are too oblivious to realize that truths even exist and are oblivious to their own slavery as well. That's some advice to people who seek fulfillment. Eveyone else can be happy with the backwash experiences others have left behind.
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    Van Dyke Parks


I remeber when I in the house where I grew up, a house I hated, that I would get a glass of water to have by my bed incase I become thirsty at some point in the night. Often this water would gather a layer of dust on the top and taste gross. I've never experienced this anywhere else, further proof this house was possessed, I think. Well, one night I had left the glass of water on the cheap cicular table with three legs which was much higher than my bed (my bed was very low to ground with a jail thin matress.) In the middle of the night I turned over and my arm hit the table and knocked the glass of water over and it spilled onto me. I never woke up faster from a deep sleep after that incident. It was so weird. The most shocking moment of my life, I believe. So now if I want to wake up in the morning I tell whoever is in the apartment to bust out the squirt bottle. My mom is hesitant to do this, though Staci will gladly do it. If only we had one of those old water guns--SUPEROAKERS! Now the problem is GETTING to sleep. I find that doing math is most effective thing I've experienced.
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    curious curious

Not again.

I think I'm dying of over-exposure to pretension rays. It has become so bad that "pretensious" has entered my daily vocabulary. One observes the curent "art" world and when it comes time to relflect the only word one is left with besides "just plain stupid" is "pretensious." I don't even want to watch movies anymore. Anything made after the mid-60's anyway. Because that is the worst medium for it, or should I say teh best medium. Because God knows todays goal is pretension, at least among the so-called "educated." If i were lazy I say that hipsterism is a disease bit I am conviced that it is distrubed in the bodies of human beings with completely capable minds, if only they cared about this organ. The sad thing is that they claim to care, whereas a schmo in the middle of nowhere has no clue he even has a brain, I mean in brain the fullest sense. It's amazing how these people claim to be so "self-aware" and yet they are blind to thier own idiocy. Then again, the so-called "self-awareness" is merely another hip term or lable in the hipsteer aesthetic, thinking yourself to be "cool" and constantly striving to be is another. With such material and surface activities as these one can hardly have time squeeze in such a humble question as "Why am I here? What's the purpose of life? What am I doing with my life and who am I? Why life?" These questions would never pass though the minds of aomeone who belived life (their own life) to be some great gift, literally a material and earthly thing with nothing to it other than that. Even if it did they would run like the dickens away from frightening questions. Hipsters take shallowness to a new level never seen before (or recorded before, I should say) by man on the face of the earth. Ugliness has a new face. Ask anyone who goes there and they'll tell you the care about the world and they aren't just rich kids having a grand old time o their own hipster terms. They say they care about the poor people. The own even listed The Communist Manifesto in her profile. "Like, oh god, Marx was an !@#$%^& genius.* I just bought a hammer and sickle shirt from ((insert random hipster store)) the other day." I just made that up but when dicussing such one dimensional beings it's easier than devouring a chocolate cake. I think that enough vomit induction for one post. Barf bag, anyone?

*Note the elevation of "intellectual" figures to god-like status. Is there any difference between a hipster wearing a hammer and sickle shirt and a Baptist wearing a "Jesus Loves Me" shirt, except the fact that the latter is more sincere?
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    disappointed disappointed

I was going to say something but...

I find internet communication to be the most discouraging on the planet. I could grunt and motion my hands and come across clear than I do here. People often get the wrong impression of me via the internet and thus don't want to associate with me and so I no longer care about making friends via the internet. I no longer care about making friends period. Or enemies, for that matter. If it hapens then fine, that's something nice I wasn't expecting. But unless you call me, insist on being an active persence in my life then we'll soon drift apart. If anyone has ever experienced my enthusiasm consider yourself lucky. So often I am met with negative responses to it that I no longer even try to share it with people. This is why I'm so cynical all the time. Because what's the use of being anything else when no one likes my positive side either? I don't really feel down about this. Maybe I did for a while, but not anymore. I'm used to it. Though I still find myself let down, for example, the most recent Jan Svankmajer film. It was completely different from what I was expecting. In a bad way. Of course I couldn't discuss it with other Svankmajer admirers because they all, in their supression and indifference to deities, elvate him to a god-like status and thus never question his genius. I question. I question so often it bothers people. But that's the point.
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    indifferent indifferent

Guess what this post will about.

Death to all hipsters who feel the NEED to give money to that idiotic film Snakes on A Plane. DEATH, I say. May you get drunk and choke on your own vomit. Thanks for praising stupidity and helping it grow. Looks like Hollywood has finally jumped on your crooked bandwagon. I bet there'll be loads more films just like this. And you'll go see them all. I can already see these stupid movies entering the Criterion Collection, which everyone knows is run by hipsters. If any hipsters who consider themselves my friend no longer want to speak to me knowing I wish them death then I'm fine with that.
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    annoyed annoyed