read
write
members
about
account

 

datedatememberrandomsearch

07/01 Direct Link
Yes, we have a beginning. We have a launch. No telling if it'll get past the gantry of your mouth or mind, but as a beginning, it's not bad. Sure as the moss grows under the overfed belly cyphoning nutrients past the over worked and underpaid guards of outmoded moral statues going green from sheer weariness, your time is about to make its round around the clock hung on a forgotten wall in a storage bin locked down for non-payment, and won't that be a cool surprise. Making whoopie will seem trite after burns of the murdered attitudes speak.
07/02 Direct Link
Through the mind of opposing categories designating that which cannot be divided by usual means, there exists divergent timelines splitting off the mainline having nothing whatsoever to do with linearity as expressed by rational thought; therein, what's seen is not to be held accountable by the avatars of reason, or as a source motivation for all acceptable maxims and moral precepts evolving as wordless creations exalting the fractured realities experienced as myriad mirrored images of infinite perpendiculars, which, of course, defies physical law as known and seen, yet contains the rudiments of who we are as opposed to the contrary.
07/03 Direct Link

It's verging closer, pre-empting the scheduled programming, wreaking havoc on sponsers and executives reaching in vain for quality coke hidden in the folds of high end briefcases becoming what designers call jack-in-the-box delightful exposing the expected entry wounds of doubt for commando renegades looking for someone to kill; it's in the blood of the works by intrigues relegated reluctantly to the back offices and sweat shops where mothers and daughters alike hunker down over blueprints of weapons not even known by heady crews in the pentagon waiting anxiously for their prescription renewals and sidebar bunny hutches sucking off the time

07/04 Direct Link
Into the readable heat we sink, into swarms of anticipations begetting actions undreamt of, decimating the diseases, savaging the landscapes within, spreading like a wildfire entrapping armies of ideas in a fireproof box hidden under an infinite stairwell connecting discarded platitudes, levels of beingness denoting our security measures strapped heavily to the load that just keeps getting bigger. Without clues available en mass, if the bombs ever exploded, which they won't for fear of starting over, there exists the lip on the crag upon we sit to gain a full view of how we'll never venture toward the beckoning secrets.
07/05 Direct Link
There, in the pines where lonely forgets itself in a rash of timber talk underlining a wide conspiracy of difficulties re-translated into benefits for the obsequious subsets, a much greater violence is perpetrated on the unsuspecting leaders through transmissions governed by natural selections spread out over eons of garden parties serving delicious entries and drinks with soft serve for the over-aged kids and sexual deviants who are less likely to complain that the sweeteners being used are carcinogenic and not nearly as tasty as the real deal, but is anything? If you look closer, anything has become nothing.
07/06 Direct Link
Inexorable derivation of becoming another by the one supplanting the former by a momentum unseen, untouched, ever touching and seen, ever moving through and around the center and circumambulation of self; only eyes fet of death may offer liquid to the flow of entrails threaded to the bottomless ocean waiting within and without feeding the hunger. To the source wheel the hands play, fumbling at first for lack of practical need, gaining confidence, feeling the new growth's possibility off the blood's roaring from the core...likened to the eve of man, there's the complicity beckoning to the seen and understood.
07/07 Direct Link
All embarrassments aside, snuggled in the asking trough, waiting for a conveyance, we take the means to adjust, but the getting doesn't;
the going by the getting refurbishes delicately, oh so neatly,
and the time spent rewrapping the unwanted gifts is pocketed
and sent at a later date to the alleged source, whose disinterest
only matches its ineffectuality but not its functionality...
for the office hours posted are as reliable as hell...then the line only bulges, as its impatient occupants don skin diving wear to avoid the tsunami of intent, delightfully ripe for comedy and tragedy, whatever you want...
07/08 Direct Link
Yes, yes, we chase the rabbit we know to be the right rabbit down hole after hole, and we know, we can feel, the imminence of ultimate conception as potent beyond the flavor of it prickling our mouths in sour joys after seizures that never seem to last long enough, and there's the rub, if ever a rub there be, contrary images of demented jack rabbits with over sized ears and spandex booties overtake our vision spaces without any thought of cleaning up after themselves, rather, allowing deviant poetry to just spew forth unchecked and imbalanced off to the left.
07/09 Direct Link
No, that's not the way it was supposed to go. It dropped my words again, that absolute collection of letters becoming the words that can never be repeated...and there in the pit of the acid creations I have the right to assume the worst, even thought the best comes without cause or effect, it just is, and that's the thing I can't take, the moment of truth that assaults my grief, and lends its name to be uttered as foolish and a lie. That's the means I must someday recognize and utilize for my proper assumption to the throne.
07/10 Direct Link
Who knows what will come despite all efforts to digest possibilities flowing from anticipation-wrapped desperation on landscapes offering none but the chance to get off at the next stop, if the bus ever stops, that is? We'll have a grand time; they have tables you know and stands set up to feed the eager, famished travelers. Storytellers, peppering the grounds in unlikely places, tell the tales left behind after bodies have decayed and minds dissolved in the ever flowing ether. These are the stories most vital to continuing, even though many don't see anything but the frequent, irritating commas.
07/11 Direct Link
So, it's waiting time, waiting in the worn place of waiting, suited up for the ride when the ride gets ready to ride, and that's the real challenge, occupying yourself with the energy to feel the necessity of being there when the going gets good and the scene is ready to shift after all this time haggling and fuming, fussing and fidgeting, staring at the immobile dials aching for anything to touch them and apply the needed ingenuity to actually work them; such a fuss and waste of time. In the end there is only the one that will do.
07/12 Direct Link
Continuation of that which makes no sense is a common thread of subtle violence perpetrated on the unsuspecting and gullible who lean on the system for validation and basic life support. Them who leave off taking and assume a confrontational stance will be dealt with accordingly as the immediate foe they've become, and the upshot is the loss of control over who they've discovered to be over what they've been old to be; an old dynamic, destroy those who find autonomy over exterior rules and arbitrary laws governing movement through the empire as it stands according to its sacred implacability.
07/13 Direct Link
The devices I've taken to rely upon as the means to acquire a foothold on breaking ground over these cracking crusts, assumed inviolate, have been put to the test repeatedly, proving their viability, flexibility, durability, and most importantly, mutability in the face of an enemy that changes effective guises with eminent grace and power. This means the edge has sharpened in my cage, and the possibility of trashing that cage, likely and imminent. Though, it's unclear how the final confrontation will be realized in a time when things have ceased consistency and predictability wavers in the face of potential catastrophe.
07/14 Direct Link
Arbitrary contrariness consumes that which cannot be otherwise contained in acceptance; rather, assessment of the imminent storm that will sweep away what fences are inhabited, calculated in relation to the possibility of survival, having drowned the emergency means, and the degree to which one might possess the rationale and mindfulness to take proper measures for assurance' sake and even the necessary lie digested for matters of ongoing madness that says "Yes, we can," which lends itself easily to the political incredibility that's totally out of focus, having no immediate recourse to another injection, all injected dynamics having been badly cooked.
07/15 Direct Link
We move ahead as best we can in the face of mysterious obstacles looming in our paths. A seeming random assortment of these things combine to confabulate the reality we so often treasure as true, then suddenly thrown into confusions without clear reason, we feel stripped of security, with secrets of emancipation buried. These secrets exist in obscure sediments laid by the mortar of prisons designed by ourselves without thought or wherewithal of consequences. A still, perfumed air surrounds the stark groundwork, and we believe all is well, all is as it should be, safe and secure. Tis anything but.
07/16 Direct Link
You just know it...this is the truth that's eluded you so many times before, but now, given all the information accrued from all the experiences past, present and future, there's no more reason to delay the action, no more reason to second guess and belay again for futile efforts to see ahead what cannot be seen, must not be seen, only known as a kind of weird hunch...that is the impetus to proceed; nothing else may suffice, but therein the secret lays asking the same questions you've asked yourself from the time you began this arduous, ecstatic journey.
07/17 Direct Link
In the main veldt again, as I like it, as I need it, as it demands complicity of me, being the unseen brother in conspiracies on the mainframe of disease seen lightly as a comfort zone bereft of danger; for the substance inherently beatific must comport itself to comply with demands laid down where others less informed become mere pawns, being hardened soldiers in a cause that has no discernible reason...but that's the lovely kicker, don't you see? We have it all, and we take it away bit by bit for a belief in something altogether unreal and dead.
07/18 Direct Link
Heat becomes the unlikely ally in a cause of enacting something new, a different sort of man living for a story draped in sensually round characteristics, deep furrowed odors, soft touches and angular dangers lurking on the occasionally unbolted doors coming unhinged at the slightest touch. In this small, hot space, we conjure a light most bright, a sound most reverberant, a feeling too complex for words. This special haven of imagination is now my home for the week. I'm embracing it, fully as I can, stretching wide, far as I can, becoming it, thoroughly as I can. A gift.
07/19 Direct Link
Second day on set. Still huddled in the cool of my place scrawling words to rouse wakefulness, that, and sipping a cup of joe most necessary. Being alive in this world we're creating has ignited a fond feeling of unexpected nostalgia; unexpected as I've never been acquainted with this kind of family before, certainly not its single minded pursuit of clocks and clock repair. In that driven cause I see something of myself from a different sort of mission, a different sort of living, which was a way of dying, being dressed as cool, empowering and the way of gods.
07/20 Direct Link
The anvil is ready. The anvil is hot. It's on the dias waiting for you to recognize it, waiting for you to apply yourself to it, waiting for you to be done waiting for it and connect. But you'd rather wait or pretend to wait, pretend that waiting is necessary; after all, it's what you've applied yourself to so unselfishly for so many dog-dayed years, slobbering through the hot days. It's better that way, right? Standing aloof, one can polish the hubris painting you supreme and supremely above any reproach that might serve an alternative factor to the equation.
07/21 Direct Link
In a plentiful cage of denial we fish for reasons out of season and out of mind, cadging what we can from passerbys who don't know any better, or don't have anything better to do with their spiritual cash cows, flatulent as ever, than bend their creased flesh toward the blathering mouths spewing nonsensical verbs and anti-vowels meshed in a web to catch the catcher after the game never began and ended just as unceremoniously. The spurious concatenations deny what most consider good taste, displaying the rarified states of being, some having nothing better to say than "I am?"
07/22 Direct Link
Bright day unfolding hot leaves by way of a thickening forest in mind of being alive in a whirlwind of prickly anticipations, thoughts carousing to melodies hardly picked from the glowing heap of possibilities, melody mashpie. Nah...they be squirreled from a dialectical twist of a blinded eye for a clear vision along the highway stretched for a cozy snuggle in a flesh cake crush rising to the hot desert crossing at dawn...not a thing for a light leveling of a simple collectable or mainstream haven where everything makes a dull sense in a thudded silence...this be the motherlode.
07/23 Direct Link
Long day ahead on the spread of a melting face, an exuberant exhalation of musty dust made clear by the meteorological facts no randy alley cat may howl away; the distribution and collection will have the walkabouts in the naked air deliciously set for wet decays at the appointed time stamped idiosyncratically on each wandering skull. I could complain, bark, howl, snap at the sky...instead I feel a need to rest secure behind closed drapes under the hiss of mechanical cool, keeping a cool distance from what no doubt will be a cacophonous burst of reports on the sun.
07/24 Direct Link
Vacuous, no, but hard of spirit, hardlined on the dropdown scroll of how-to-place-yourself-in-harm's-way without a clue of what you're really doing to yourself and everyone around you that might care about you and what happens to you. Twas a flighty melange of choices laid to my heart's feet...to pick up, examine and possibly throw away or to take up without a moment's reflection of the consequences...such was the behavior elicited by myself for the pleasure of something I once equated with myself, but was, in fact, something entirely different, albeit gravely enticing.
07/25 Direct Link
An angular delight manifests the quiet blooming riot in a breast plucked from ennui and the distress of too much thinking on what thinking cannot divine, rather the gist of earthly fulfillment derives its own completion upon the launch of will over attitudes contrary to its realizations and the monument erected in a solemn place devoid of touch or sight or contemplations is fallen by grace of knowing its uselessness before that uselessness can destroy the seers root ability, then comes the roar of hidden storms, the rush of  freed warriors of spirit demanding you stand and be aware.
07/26 Direct Link
The feeling of being aroused to disquiet and dissemblage via faith misplaced on illusions and desperate hope, myriad in their complexities and subtle entrapment, divides self out of concealment and compartmentalization benefiting the spurious world views, into one of dangerous openness possessing the capability of freedom, and the self-destruction if understanding stays rooted in a self bereft of others, for the wisdom to hold freedom in one's heart dances arm in arm with the greatest power known to humankind, a power to vitalize, embolden and inspire, and a power to exterminate utterly...it is the choice few have mastered.
07/27 Direct Link
We move toward becoming silent by screaming for emancipation from ideals belonging to the creators of our legacies and promptly lose our voice of sanity, relegating the terms of our involvements to the secret source where faces voices gibber incessantly, utterly exsanguinated as befitting the true spirit of sainthood, dispensing with all exigencies and expectation of the fullest brotherhood possible in view of falling away from the faith and accepting a living death in keeping with all the customs of the former command...this we do without thinking and continually in spite of clear advice from those who've died there.
07/28 Direct Link
The sorrow is the leavetaking of a realization quite apart from the belief you had in the friendship which dissolved as easily as a fizzy in water. Expectations flouted, when the going becomes real and the necessities belie words offered in haste and sentimentality, sit heavily on the nod of conveniences when those conveniences seem to circumambulate the known world. It's sad, but not altogether unexpected such a fate sneaks into the heart. One has to remove themselves from beliefs born of past dynamics and learn to accept those of the present so to forage a means into the future.
07/29 Direct Link
Limped off the nod of a sleep-lapped lingered night when the dogs were called off the parade for a sense of completions, I leapt from the lapel, being the signal to all initiates that the quiet's about to die, and the voice beneath it all will sing; yup, the fat lady's gonna sing, gents, and I can't stress the necessity of certain presumed muscles suggested in the walkaday prayer alley as vital to the alchemy ...when you know it's true, it becomes second nature, and the impulse ceases to be conscious. You just do what you have to do.
07/30 Direct Link
Defragmentation of one's own becomes a humor of a little known, oft insinuated atmos bereft of the keeping space where most believe their creativity begins as a great flower blooming in a storm of treasured pain hoarded like a miser hoards his money in lost triple locked brass steamers...the defrag assaults with swift, unseen vigor the totality, from root to prickly spire, dissembling this quaint arrangement, reducing all to the derivations scrawled across the blackboard, where mathematicians claw after threads of the TOE, taking what's presumed theirs by meticulous planned thefts of heart, scraping dead blood for living equations.
07/31 Direct Link
Little known is the weathered and beleaguered phantom of heart known as the crux of love and hate in the dispensation of radical thoughts as relating the management of being here and seeing here, all that is here and nowhere else; such may be the confusions ensuing on the waves generated by the oft unseen implosion rendering rubble from the house of cards so conveniently placed in full view of wonder, appeasing all that may rightly confront its spuriousness. How one navigates out of this vortex is anybody's guess and anybody's problem, for everyone is swallowed and sees nothing wrong.