this is for me,
that's right, another stream of consciousness to sort back through when you're less sober and wondering what the hell happened this year.
this semester has been cruel to you. you have been cruel to your destiny, have you not?
you've cared nothing for Jennifer, your dream. she changed her myspace status to single yesterday. and you noticed, still cold and whatever else you are now
what dream?
I still remember...
semi-tangent, remember the invisibles? BARBELiTH? your mind bleeds with mckenna-ese half-stoned epiphanies, most of which are just that (remember grant bought into that timewave pseudoscience).
I'm sick of living in 3d
the city virus lives in us all. we live in but a shadow of the ree---al, a bacteria spreading, consuming, producing for our Archon masters.
I've just read her three-month old laments
if only I'd checked nextoheartbeats a month or two sooner she may not be single
burn wounds heal nicely unless disturbed
I want insane love with a pistol strapped to her inner thigh and terrible life-threatening madness in our everyday lives
and I'm still addicted. I've found no better than a too-cognizant +2 since this time last year [drunk counts as a negative one. the goal is nirvana, not catatonia!]
and since it's on everybody's (my) mind, yes, I will make it through thanksgiving. and then some. I just don't know what I'll do with myself once I have another entire fucking year to make something of.
smoke less.
think less.
stop looking. You are found
it's easy enough to exist here, but I still can't figure out what to make of all this fucking time!! too many options-- freedom is hard to deal with, I'm still hard wired to (ask for and) obey orders, but, for the first time in seventeen years!
no-one's shouting them and it takes effort to push away the very scared little boy
efort o... apatia?
I am the very scared little boy.
I see myself as invincible Gideon Stargrave, as George Jung a stranger in his own home, as a maniac searching for something we don't know exists, with a martyr complex
isn't that the most sickening thing?
stop looking!
I'm obviously nowhere close
I can't see your face
I can't see you staring back
yet
If you're going to call life a puzzle don't go on about putting it (back) together
We have to make the pieces and the picture, completing a puzzle you created
This road makes me want to write myself into another universe- meet mason- join the invisibles- ...escapist---I need something truer, something I can touch and love and make the rest of my life with
all I (we) need is a good post-up, a good car, and four good friends
and a cause
whatver
this semester has been cruel to you. you have been cruel to your destiny, have you not?
you've cared nothing for Jennifer, your dream. she changed her myspace status to single yesterday. and you noticed, still cold and whatever else you are now
what dream?
I still remember...
semi-tangent, remember the invisibles? BARBELiTH? your mind bleeds with mckenna-ese half-stoned epiphanies, most of which are just that (remember grant bought into that timewave pseudoscience).
I'm sick of living in 3d
the city virus lives in us all. we live in but a shadow of the ree---al, a bacteria spreading, consuming, producing for our Archon masters.
I've just read her three-month old laments
if only I'd checked nextoheartbeats a month or two sooner she may not be single
burn wounds heal nicely unless disturbed
I want insane love with a pistol strapped to her inner thigh and terrible life-threatening madness in our everyday lives
and I'm still addicted. I've found no better than a too-cognizant +2 since this time last year [drunk counts as a negative one. the goal is nirvana, not catatonia!]
and since it's on everybody's (my) mind, yes, I will make it through thanksgiving. and then some. I just don't know what I'll do with myself once I have another entire fucking year to make something of.
smoke less.
think less.
stop looking. You are found
it's easy enough to exist here, but I still can't figure out what to make of all this fucking time!! too many options-- freedom is hard to deal with, I'm still hard wired to (ask for and) obey orders, but, for the first time in seventeen years!
no-one's shouting them and it takes effort to push away the very scared little boy
efort o... apatia?
I am the very scared little boy.
I see myself as invincible Gideon Stargrave, as George Jung a stranger in his own home, as a maniac searching for something we don't know exists, with a martyr complex
isn't that the most sickening thing?
stop looking!
I'm obviously nowhere close
I can't see your face
I can't see you staring back
yet
If you're going to call life a puzzle don't go on about putting it (back) together
We have to make the pieces and the picture, completing a puzzle you created
This road makes me want to write myself into another universe- meet mason- join the invisibles- ...escapist---I need something truer, something I can touch and love and make the rest of my life with
all I (we) need is a good post-up, a good car, and four good friends
and a cause
whatver