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[20 Apr 2012|12:00pm]
working through negative emotions to strengthen the positive emotion...creating an upgrade of positivity, almost complete.
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[02 Jun 2011|08:58pm]
I decided to give the every-day-daily-to-the-grind-life a double shot...wake up inside of four walls and drink it with extra sugar coating. I was afraid that I may BE afraid of living like this. That I may find it uncomfortable. To work a job I had no passion for doing and live inside a house that I pay for married to a person I barely knew, and just not be capable emotionally and mentally.
And I found that I was capable. And Comfortable. Being "capable" has been a 7 lettered trigger for me. Growing older the suspicions from family figures were that I never was. One pre-packaged step at a time I would get the Proud of You Cards, Starbucks gift cards, drink some expensive coffee with all that hard work you are doing, doing all of the things that make us proud.
And The Truth Is,
I am not trying to rebel,
But I would like to refuse feeling so comfortable. Because the truth is, it is TOO COMFORTABLE. As soon as we start to feel comfortable, we are victims of our own ego replaying the same patterns, to define who we are with the same black line over and over and over.
I want to break free and become empty.
I will never be ANYTHING until I am NOTHING.
Anybody can be somebody but first, must become nobody.
In order to become the truth, I will have to become empty.
When YOU think of empty, you feel lonely- don't you? That's your comfort of the ego..you cuddle up with it before you go to start your day and play over it in your mind while you distance from others.
But I think that- once you can let go of the simplest and later the most complex of comforts, you will first find a new world physically, and then mentally- a freedom you never dreamed of in your old world.

I will not let red white and blue bruises spring up through my skin until an 'early' retirement never comes and liberty's hand has set my dreams aflame.

I will hope that someday you'll stop feeling sorry for me and confront your own issues, and face them fearlessly, and love yourself more for it, even when it all seems to be crumbling down around you, and you find out how strong you can be.
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[31 May 2011|05:23pm]
we talk about the physical reality collapsing over chugs of over-sugared beer and booty shakes in between beats on the antique mustard colored stereo. Coincidences are accounted for and dissected at the root of each concept and placement in our connected reality...the truth drips from our lips and her pupils look over the edge. And she never comes back. I feel responsible. Who am I TO PLAY GOD I'd rather go back to playing checkers. Then again, who am I to feel responsible?
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[12 May 2011|09:56pm]
it's been a long journey..still so much more to go!
13 months! mildly picture heavy!!!Collapse )
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[12 Nov 2010|04:03pm]
"I start a fuckin riot up in this shit. (indistinct) Rewindin' our lives and shit, stealin our lives and shit, you know what I mean man?"


"Here, can you uh, get my name? Chris Clemmenson. Baddest motherfucker you'll ever meet."
"Phat Rob- P-H-A-T-R-O-B,"
"Phat Rob,"
"Phat Rob,"
(Pink floyd cover band plays in the bar behind us)
"Hey, have you ever had uh, one of these on a string before I don't think you have,"
"What the fuck is that?"
"Watch out! He's gonna getcha."
"Come back here, Lennard!!!"
"What is that????"
"It's my Lennard!!! I keep a Lennard on a string here, for quite some time he's my praying mantis. He's been on here since a week ago...a praying mantis here is a great thing. It's true though Lennard and me...we've had some good times."
(pause) "Those the cops huh?"
"No seriously though, like uh, we have these uh, so I said WE, as in I have, neighbors, I live in a van, I don't have neighbors, I poach off of these people's houses, that live close to where I park my van USUALLY, and I use their stoove, and, shoower, and such. They gave me Lennard, the other day and they came home from the bar and, fuckin' woke me up and shit from my VAN. Like Chris Clemmenson, WAKE UP! Wakin' me up just so I can tell 'em stories and shit. And they hand me Lennard and I fall back asleep...and I wake up with Lennard in my pocket....."
(pause) (pink floyd music) (me and Chumby talk about Sushi we obtained)
"It's been like a week and I've had Lennard in my pocket, and I've not known what to do with Lennard, until I met you guys today. Figured that anybody would want to talk to him. It's been on Lennard the whole time, come on Lennard let's GO!@ He doesn't know how to walk straight, HEY!@ WALK STRAIGHT!! WALK FASTER!@!@@@@ Roll over. Stay. That's what I thought. HEY. HEY! DON'T EVEN FUCKING MOVE YOUR TENTACLES!!!"
"He looked at you weird."
"little bitch"
"it's Lennard. Sometimes I just don't know what he's thinkin!"
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[05 Nov 2010|03:18pm]
it's the dust in the shadow of a cloud in the desert.
it's a building breaking down in your old home town replacing the memory of shiny and new and usable.
when your friend burns down a bar in mexico.
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[28 Sep 2010|05:35pm]
dig for your purpose
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[25 Aug 2010|09:41pm]
how long can love go before becoming greedy?
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[28 Jul 2010|01:22am]
It's dark in a bedroom on a queen sized mattress, with room for under the bed. The hairs of the carpet are all orange and red and Dijon mustard yellow. A toddler rises out of bed and walks a short distance to the bathroom. There is her father, scissors in hand. He takes her long, young silky hair, she protests in a scream, and it's pulled up and she cries and it's cut all short.
She runs another short distance to the dark black kitchen, more like a hallway (the kind of kitchen that drives most house-wives into a panic attack). She sees her mother standing, still, almost void of all soul. The child is stuck in slow motion, an emotion of trying to reach out but physically still. The mother reaches out her hand, but backs up slowly into the darkness, an abyss of a short kitchen. She calls out for her mother but she never stops the backwards kind of disappearance until it is fulfilled.

I awake in a scream and sob. This was my first memory as a child. And it was a nightmare.

I guess I didn't really speak English until I was around 3 years old. My mother called it an alien language all my own. My first word was grape. Once I started to talk, I did it in a funny way. I talked out of the side of my mouth, my lips pressed to one side.

I remember other things, clear as day, memories that stick out in my mind for no apparent reason.

Upon the top of the slide stood my mortal enemy, my best friend. She dropped a feather and we would all try to catch it.
"So do you believe in Santa Clause?" I asked.
"I believe in Santa Clause, but not the Easter Bunny."
The conversation went on about what be believed in. It must not have been so childish, because that's what most people still talk about at my age now. I guess we all need something.

I remember when all of my friends started talking to me about God, and religion. I had never really been talked to about it before.
I stood on this porch with my mother, it was at least 40 ft above the ground I think, or maybe I was just smaller then. It had this view of acres of pasture and tree covered mountains. I asked her what God was. She must have been stoned, because she pointed outwards and told me that God was in the trees, and in the air, and in everything around us and inside of us.
She says she doesn't remember this, really. Maybe she would rather it all have been a blur.

I remember talking to my childhood friends about memories that we couldn't tell apart from reality. We couldn't remember if they were dreams or real.
I had this memory that I walked out onto the porch and my older sister was standing out there with her friend. I slid the sliding glass door open and walked outside, and the sky was bright pink, and suddenly a million baby bright pink spiders hatched from their nests above me in the shingles of the house, and they all came downward, and I was afraid.
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[25 Jul 2010|05:31pm]
"Albakerki. Hello springfield!"
"Where the women are lonely and the sheep are shared."
(beat starts drumming) "unh,"
"Don't you hate it when a sheep gets passed around like a whole circle of like 50 people,"
"And you can tell the sheeps been fucked like, a million times,"
"And like, all your friends know this sheep,"
"(laughs) Yeah yeah, likin' that sheep out there,"

(gutair playing in background)

"hey, how do you describe, sex with a hippie? ....Fuckin' intense. fuck yeah. Fuck rainbows."

(stops)"Unhh! (laughs) Just trying to keep myself busy right now. Choke things....."
(choking sounds)
"STOP. Chapstick chapstick. More chapstick. I need more chapstick NOW. Put it all over my face like, it's like aaahhhhh chapstick, spare a dollar? I need a balloon, I'm convulsing!" (lauighs) "Yeah, I've been here for like 7 months, just hanging out by myself in alleys and shit dude,"
"It's cool, it's really cool,"
"Lookin' like death and shit like that,"
"I dig it man,"
"Dig what?"
"LA dude!"
"LA. 90210. Birkenstocks will come at you. Spiked hair."
"LA + me = Lame."
"I'm bisexual cause it's the cool thing to do! Everybody's gay right? Just wanna hang out."
"Everybody in LA is gay."

(gutair starts playing)

"Arr, I think that might've been some acid..might've..."
"I wish.."
"Just waitin'..."
"I just ate some good L in Oakland.."
"What were you doin' there?
"Just helpin'..helpin' out some family...oh! Here like check this out, this will fuckin' trip your brain, like it's fucking cool as fuck,"
"Wanna drink of this beer?"
"I like beer."
"That was the first beer I ever drank. Butt-wiper."
"The first beer I drank was papas my grandma gave it to me when I was like 7......Being 7 totally expanded my mind dude, I had like 2 girlfriends, at 7 years old, I was a pimp."
"Glory days, 7 or 8, playin' on the playground and shit,"
"Loved Berkely dude! Love it love it love it, love berkely dude,"

(Taber starts banging his head against glass wall as gutair plays)
(bump bump)

"Harder!!! FASTER!!!" (laughs)"
"yeah, faster,"
"wanna dollar?"
"Hey, six-up."
"I thought it was 5-0.."
"Fucking pigs, fucking pigs, gonna get some dirt and twigs, gonna hit that gang of fuckin' pigs.."
"Hey check this out." (shows him a drawing he did)
"Shit is weird."
"Shit is weird."
"Yeah dude that's in pretty weird shape there."
"That must be some weird shit thur,"
"That's some crazy shit!!"
"That's some weird shit thur, that thur be some weeird shiit thuurr, yesssiiir!"
"He looks like he has something to say."
(everybody starts singing Ring of Fire by Jonny Cash)


"Bump bump, chhss,"


(Nicoli plays song)


(music notes)


(music notes)

"It's onlyyyyy, becaauseee.....(music notes)"


(/end song)

(Taber plays)


"what time is it?"
"I don't know.."
"we need to know. inquiring minds need to know."

(bump bump bump)

"He pretended there was UFOS haunting the area! So he pretended he was a vampire so he could get that land, from that woman that he cheating on Melinda with."
"There's a wagon,"
"No but that's a...that's a...that's a..um what's it called..."
"That's a wagon."
"That's a wagon-train! No, that's how, uh, that's how, that's how stage coaches are born."
"Do we have any more cigarettes?"
"Cigarette butts."
"So this one time I hitched a ride out of Butts County, Georgia, and like I was with ten other dirty kids, and they were like we don't want you in Butts, we want you to leave Butts, and we were like what? you want us to leave Butts? We're gonna chill in Butts and you're going to tell us to leave Butts county, we want you out of Butts,"
"Get outta my butts!"
"This is my Butts"
"This is all my butts, and I said all your butts are belong to us!"
"The mystery machine is at work."
"It is always at work."
"I'm on it. I'm on it scoob!"
"You ever seen the movie? Scooby Doo the movie?"
"I want a Mastif, just because of that,"
"He's a Great Dane, they are castles of dogs, we used to call 'em castles cause them so BIG!"
"Once upon a time, in the old times, once..."
"Dude it must be like 4, or 5, in the morning..."
"How do you know?"
"Based on the, picture...(I was drawing a picture with a dead pen and face paint)"
(gutair plays)
"She's recording!!! oh no..."
"I caught you..."
"I saw you....I saw you catchin' her..."
"caught 'er, caught 'er red handed,"
"I got off on you, gettin' off on her, gettin' off on me!"
"That's a good idea, but you see the coolest thing, is it's a cup! (talking about a starbucks gallon of coffee, in a box shaped like a cup.)"

"But this is a movie"
"Remember that it's something to see though,"
"I am from tennessee,"
"and we don't have electricity, in tennessee, or TV, we don't have electricity or TV in tennessee,"
"remember where this story is coming from,"
"it's not in tennessee, it's like in arkansas, somethin like that,"
"like the story, you're talkin about elizabeth,"
"backwoods, backwoods living,"
"like, way back,"
"way back when"
"back in the day"
"Theadore roosavelt married his fucking first cousin,"
"it was at least back in the day,"
"used to have like, sex parties and orgies,"
"Abraham lincoln had a boyfriend."
"Yeah they like slept in the same bed"
"I am going to inhale coffee from now on."
"AND he was half black."
"That's proposterous."
"it's true!"
"you don't like coffee!"
"can't be that late, cause he was just hosing off the ground....well...I guess it's a bar...."
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[09 Jul 2010|05:49pm]
"There are people tripping over bricks trying to find a wall."
"I feel like talking to god would be like ruining a good mood."

after two gallons of coffee spanging in front of starbucks.

"What's that a recorder? I used to have one like that." (Banjo plays in the background)
"it's a shiny new quarter!"
"mmm mmm, mmm mmm mmmm,"
"gettin' a little ancy now?
"GIVE ME YOUR FUCKIN MONEY! your windows open, I'm just jumpin in"
"Like AHHHHH, that's my dollar!"
(barks like a dog) "I'm all flying a sign and like, *RRRRRR!* and they're like I'm trying to help you! I'm very teritorial."
"Smells so caramelly."
"Smells so caramelly. Like geez I couldn't help but notice you smell so caramelly today."
"You got a cigarette? You got A cigarette?"
"Would you like some food? No? AWESOOOME, enjoy your evening man!"
"You too, man."
"What's you name again? Jumbaliah?"
"No. that's good though. Nicoli."
"There's a buffet over here. I'm really hungry right now."
"I don't think bed is going to be anytime soon."
"Let's just walk to san diego man!"
"Fuck it, we got enough coffee."
"So tomorrow, we gotta go to the post office..."
"You gotta go to CVS... or walgreens..."
"I need to go to Walgreens... steal some pregnancy tests."
"You got a cigarette? Can I have a kiss?"
"My birth control got lost in the mail..."
"Sue em!"
"My mom lost em..."
"sue your mom,"
"My mom's a cafeteria worker..."
"what sign are you?"
"I am on the cusp of Leo and Cancer,"
"I'm on the cusp of Scorpio and Libra,"
"I, I had a reading done by this really crazy guy, yesterday, or the day before yesterday, and he was telling me that cusp signs are like totally different signs in themselves, like put here to do something like weird."
"I'mma, I'mma, some days I'm a scorpio, and some days I'm a libra,"
"Uh huh, since I am cancer and Leo I go like internal, external, then I am a gemini ascendent so I already see the world like in two different ways,"
"I get like, really primal, like I'll kill you! or I'll take you're picture. I'm gonna kill you! you know what I mean?"
"What'd you say about cusp signs doing something weird?"
"Yeah, we're freaks man,"
"I'm gonna start my own cult."
"What kind of cult?"
"Like a fight cult, ya'know,"
"YOUR HEADLIGHTS! YOUR HEADLIGHTS! Turn on the lights. I don't want to fight."
"Fuckin' hippies."
"Come on baby light my fire."
"Need a cigarette, need a cigarette,"
"I need a lighter......"
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[09 Jul 2010|05:36pm]
He talked real slow, slowest I ever heard a man who did methamphetamines ever talk.
"For all I know you might be a psychologist, or a counselor, and this might be just one big resort for mental patients. Everytime I go to sleep, I'm like, I don't know, I won't go to sleep, because I am afraid when I pass out, I might stay passed out for, two days, and then they'll all move me, check me, and do whatever, they all give 'em the drugs, it's experiments, experiment, well let's see, damn!, what's it gonna do if we give 'em this, how are they gonna act if we give em these pills, He's rare here...he's a rare individual, he should be dead! He took a whole bottle of nitro-glycerin, smokin' that old, battery acid...smoking stuff that's just...crazy. Like, what if I was to, drink a jug... of motor oil. You think I'd live? I do..I believe I could drink a jug of gasoline.
I read a book called blue world...I read something there, you ever heard of it?"
"You are 19 aren't you? You could be uh...you could be an agent, a U.S.. secret agent. Trained...and..."
"well I am smoking a sherlock pipe."
"smoking...a sherlock...."

after that I put the tape recorder back into the depths of my purse from the secrecy of my pocket.

"I would really like a tree-house. A really nice, tree house......"
Crinkling of my purse gets loud and cuts off all conversation. I know it went on for many many hours. We had shared the parking garage in a circle of people smoking disgusting shit, went out for a cigarette run, and then the sun came up suddenly. He said to me "I want to show you heaven." When we got there Heaven was written into the concrete slab that extended towards the ocean, bird shit all over it, a kind of gray and white ground mosaic. We smoked and drank coffee and I sat there, just listening, until about 3 in the afternoon. About then was when that vampire finally showed up and we went to go see Lindsey Lohan..
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[09 Jul 2010|05:25pm]
there's a drama brewing, it feeds my daily interest, it's a cover-up, to all the things that ever happened. it's a cover-story. let me touch up my make-up. get ready for my close-up. closing in on all my close-calls and slip-ups.
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[09 Jul 2010|05:22pm]
The minutes counting down on time remaining on internet computers compell me to type fast, a little frantic, I like that the library glows a little longer in the summer. the screens over stained glass. the direction of light above the person sitting under, which changes by the hour, are they waiting? taking advantage of air-conditioning like me? What else am I being conditioned of, I wonder every day. Try to keep track of myself before making tracks on myself. A runaway waiting for the ego to look away. matching lines in the sky with the line of influence that draws my words out, like a snake charmer, feeling so out of control, but what are other people but a spectacle, the uncomfortable feeling faked along to the point of ease, or was that the plan all along, was it the only way? my past flakes into bowls and I am eating them for breakfast, breakfast of champions, the milk has expired, just like my hopes and dreams, thank god.
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[09 Jul 2010|04:59pm]
I smash blocks

to hold onto a thought so dearly, a stanza that came for a visit to my present mind, only to watch it wither and die like a fairy held too tight.
to listen to something depressing on a hot hot day, normally associated with follicking children, the princes and princesses of popcicles, something melancholy in the sweat puddling in my boots.
no, actually, beethoven isn't quite working in 90 degrees. funny how music only works sometimes. how do we tire of a song. the rise and fall of first and last, up and down like strings in a piano.
I swear I thought of a better metaphor, one that would send you chills and make me feel like I am actually amounting to something. I have met somany writers, well maybe not many, but profoundly speaking homeless writers who smoke meth or live on Venice boulevard, who don't sleep in fear of their writing being stolen, which it has been. A belief in a psychological experiment, tourism, getting paid to hold a cardboard sign saying "get me out of here",
none of the music I am listening to is working. Let somebody else DJ, I always like them better.
this isn't coming out write.
The writing blocks are smashed into pieces but they're still cutting into my feet, they are still there, never destroyed- or created, like all matter, WHAT'S THE MATTER?
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[09 Jun 2010|12:34pm]
A child is thrown into the air by her parents. "Look Daddy, I'm flying!" she declares. I turn and smile.
An older women passing beside me on the sidewalk says, in a french accent, "Ah, a moment of true happiness."

There are prophets on the sidewalk. the secrets are being whispered.

I man plays the saxaphone on the side of the library. A different man sits on a bench in front of him moving his hands. Chumby says, "That guy is a trip, man." I studied his hands as I passed and saw that he was spelling: 2, 3, 2, 3, 2, 3...etcetera...over and over...
"23 is the number of madness," I said.
"I'm not surprised."
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[27 Apr 2010|06:54pm]
twitches phase through your body like psychedelics might (or mightily caused then), and I am your shock absorber in the fetal position. I hold your face dangerously close to my teeth, hold your words dangerously close to the breath that I hold before you answer the door.
The rain seeps into the open sores in my fingers as I clench them against my bike handles, how well they handle, and how I will ask them advice when I handle the notion of leaving. leaving this place I arrived before with much different intentions. I have decided to have none for the future, she broke my heart into bite size lollipops, so suck it, suck me, suck this, I'm going to Baja.
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[15 Apr 2010|06:42pm]
as scientists find the relations to what, prophets tell you why, homeless ask you when, travelers ask them where.......
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[12 Apr 2010|07:37pm]
I am becoming as time makes passes in my eyes, the sun is setting through the library window, I am buying fake flowers for you so that they won't wilt, I think I might love you...
I am thinking of numbers, comparisons and line-angles, my reasoning dangles on strings and my feelings are the puppet masters. I had a dream about singing puppets once, it was when I went back in time to 1983, then there was a movie that came out about a hot tub time machine that took them to 1986, never saw it but thought it was relevant.
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[02 Apr 2010|06:10pm]
4 - 2 = 2 - 2 = 0

222 = being in line with your astrological influences. (2= duality, astrology is very expressive on dual forces)

"when you smoke the herb, it reveals you to yourself."
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