wind change, sea change, habits remain.
So last night was fun, shot bands and twilight, hung out and all that.
Today I'm beat from headbanging to Cinemechanica. Neck's a little sore but I'll be okay after tomorrow. Today I tried to get food but every place I went to was swamped! Egads!
So yesterday Matt and Katie G. and KT reminded me in their own ways that I don't have the slightest clue of who I am, and that who I think I am is a stupid illusion created from a lack of self esteem, narcissistic circular thoughts, and fear of change/acceptance.
And lots of more crap and I can go for hours and hours of self analyzing the anus of my mind but there's no end to it all so I'll stop and dream about girls with four boobs two tongues and lots and lots of lip gloss smothering me from head to toe. Fun times are to be had at the end of some rainbow somewheres.
Since talking like a fucking idiot is necessary these days to succeed let's prevail let's carpe diem let's create pornography of gonzo proportions. No cocks, no cunts, no tits, just loads and loads for chatter that makes your ears bleed your lungs flip flop and your tongues rattle with the cadence of bones. Let's spew the spunk of 1,000 stocks and bonds while reciting the Art of War in an elaborate Ikea office setting. We can listen to pleasant melodies of the Muzak while watching the paint dry.
HOW FUN!!!!!11!!1! Sign me up now!!!11!1!!!
Hmm... you know, somedays I'd like to hand over the keys to a Tyler Durden, but since he's (un)fortunately just a character in a movie, I have to redefine my aims on my own.
Which sucks. Because it would be so easy to be schizophrenic and let that personality form that is everything you aren't that you wished you were, which IMO is one reason why that movie drew so many people in, myself included.
What's hard is doing it. Saying, okay, I'm sick of these stupid hangups I am continually hindered by, and I'm going to prevail against them.
Am all I am doing right this moment is gripping the walls of the cage of my hangups and shaking them, a prisoner to them? Or can these bars melt away, and let me walk outside of them, if just a little?
These are the questions of the day, so it seems, so it goes.
Today I'm beat from headbanging to Cinemechanica. Neck's a little sore but I'll be okay after tomorrow. Today I tried to get food but every place I went to was swamped! Egads!
So yesterday Matt and Katie G. and KT reminded me in their own ways that I don't have the slightest clue of who I am, and that who I think I am is a stupid illusion created from a lack of self esteem, narcissistic circular thoughts, and fear of change/acceptance.
And lots of more crap and I can go for hours and hours of self analyzing the anus of my mind but there's no end to it all so I'll stop and dream about girls with four boobs two tongues and lots and lots of lip gloss smothering me from head to toe. Fun times are to be had at the end of some rainbow somewheres.
Since talking like a fucking idiot is necessary these days to succeed let's prevail let's carpe diem let's create pornography of gonzo proportions. No cocks, no cunts, no tits, just loads and loads for chatter that makes your ears bleed your lungs flip flop and your tongues rattle with the cadence of bones. Let's spew the spunk of 1,000 stocks and bonds while reciting the Art of War in an elaborate Ikea office setting. We can listen to pleasant melodies of the Muzak while watching the paint dry.
HOW FUN!!!!!11!!1! Sign me up now!!!11!1!!!
Hmm... you know, somedays I'd like to hand over the keys to a Tyler Durden, but since he's (un)fortunately just a character in a movie, I have to redefine my aims on my own.
Which sucks. Because it would be so easy to be schizophrenic and let that personality form that is everything you aren't that you wished you were, which IMO is one reason why that movie drew so many people in, myself included.
What's hard is doing it. Saying, okay, I'm sick of these stupid hangups I am continually hindered by, and I'm going to prevail against them.
Am all I am doing right this moment is gripping the walls of the cage of my hangups and shaking them, a prisoner to them? Or can these bars melt away, and let me walk outside of them, if just a little?
These are the questions of the day, so it seems, so it goes.