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without motivation. a global infrastructure of fiber optics stole ourselves from ourselves. we fabricate our delusions into this imaginary world - what we've always been scared to, and never will, be. dependency breeds dependency. we lie to ourselves like we lie to our screens, and hers and his. we never become this lie, imprisoned by dependency ( Read more... ) -
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i think i wrote this in 2008 - it was saved in my journal when i signed in. it's been a while. hello again, livejournal. why have you been hiding in idaho ( Read more... ) -
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Grey are expectations, unmet. Grey are the arrows that led to the end of the world, la Costa del Sol, where the sand isn't grey or black or white and where the sky screams AZUL! Grey is this click, my hope, but only grey is there. Black is my perspective. My actions are white. I can't function in this greyness. I can’t see. -
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A Croatian hoax began the night, nervously smiling at everything, mumbling in that mumbling way wishing it was truth, avoiding Introductions under the streets of downtown with our headlamps on. As the night progressed, my Croatian ruse turned into a Canadian lie, entertaining to friends, increasingly depressing - thinking of all the subconscious ( Read more... ) -
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my hands and feet trembling, my heart running a marathon, my body literally collapsing at the thought of leaving those chairs, staying and going at the thought of leaving, i cant, but, have to. we have to be here and going there at every moment. i must to not think of time, of weeks, of months, but of moments. one long moment, a mosaic of moments ( Read more... ) -
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people were standing on the periphery of the auditorium. in an instant he changed the lives of people he never met or spoke with. that's just how he is. i will always love and appreciate that moment on that elevator, that first moment of comfort and the moments thereafter - under that alderberry tree, dreaming of the rucksack revolution in the ( Read more... ) -
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those refractions of ice at twenty two degrees away from the source gave me something. that moment created this, all moments creating this. this desire, this loneliness; acceptance, this everything and nothing, this restlessness, this equanimity, that dirt road eighty-four miles northeast of corvallis. please dont let me get lost in the waiting ( Read more... ) -
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i noticed that stone wall too, with the rocks subtlety screaming their presence, with ghost trains overhead. that stairway was lonely without you, but, the memory remained, you were there too. i sat and stared at the words, only looking, not comprehending - overwhelmed by that creeping morning light under the doorway ( Read more... ) -
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the library check-out at metcalf with heavy books, a confused glare from the librarian, blankness back - staring at those words that i will never understand. the carpet gray with strokes of red and blue. the tiles were cracked ice and pebbles, me always looking down - avoiding eye-contact. never asking for this, ever. im tired of that conversation ( Read more... ) -
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the body is not a rationality, the constituency of the self, the I is an illusion. we are an aggregate of bones and slimy things, an amalgamation of nothingness, made to look like something. why is it that irrational thinking creates a seemingly rational structure? this is no longer modernity itself, but, weeds growing over it. we endlessly ( Read more... )