Thursday, May 6
FNB 10510-31910 Selections: Broken Through
It is toys, yes? Yes, but this is where I want to be, shake it off. This is my place. With the quite to the west and the drone of highway to my east. They are all closed off now, disconnected lights flying past my head-hanging-low-vision.
My lines led me to this cold same concrete ground. But now that I am here I see that there are two ways out 1)throught the hell I cut my way through back there, or 2) through the walkway I did not see.
My flame rolls into my own spit. My eyes are unable to focus on my own spit. I roll into the crevice and the acrid smoke stings my eyes.Rolling over my own liquid the flame goes out . Spots all around me the cold concrete on my ass again.
My blade is back through the wicked way. I get up slowly past the choked shrubs past the wall and through the tangled gate. There it was by the unused barrier. A man died there a few days ago, I heard the crash. It sounded like a snow plow on an empty street.
FNB 93009 - 21810 Selections: I need to finish today
FNB 93009 - 21810 Selections: Lust Traveling
FNB 93009 - 21810 Selections: I got what you need to the end of the over
flashlights acolytes
I am better here
piece the next thought
need this
the sound is sick
down, that is the desert
better lights
Sunday, March 21
Field notebook 9/30/09 to 2/18/10 Transcription 3
Fat yes, lets buy me that, yes, over there. At the parents house for the first time. Call me first time online. Check her account first, yes, okay.
Kelly came to the bar, he was not feeling it, he was unwell and unsettled. I needed something, I don’t know what. But she likes me not you, no she likes you not me, I mean. But I come here and the words were good. Nice lights: neon, bar lights, florescent and black light. My stomach hurts but that is okay because this is party city.
Feel like wooden. Feel no words. Now mouths on corners, feel like liquid stomach bile. Full of stupidity.
Fat face with drink. Fake wood bar top neon great smell. We are all here doing drugs great. What is she thinking? Can there be evils and suffering in the world? Yes. but not here, or not physical pain, here is maybe suffering maybe horrific suffering. No persons taking your life. No real feeling of cold and hunger. Here in the west we take our own life with food and drugs and inactivity, we are psychotically bored and medicated to death. Can we compare the two? Is it worth comparing the two? I cannot do it, have never feared for my life, especially from an outside force. For me it has all been internal. Can I compare the two?
Hell presupposed that there is someone to suffer infinitely. Bring it on I will eventually deal with it.
Cold Hard Facts
· I am going to take it with me
I am that much better I am sorry I had to work with I said it teen age great mount Air-a-rat I hate scope of the line of thinking.
Not a bad piece so far .what is the message? I don’t know. What I need to do is connect with celebrities. We have had the past 3 worst presidents, yes I can incorporate that somehow.
Bubbles flowing. Mind racing drenched in sweat toes tingling. Its okay its just infinity. The questions is danger.
Profalatic plane over black and white out for tonight. My ciggy burns with extraterrestrial light. Man at the door enjoying the night. Silver and turquoise crystals down my throat cold tips, then a blast of warm air traffic noise leaving a circular rim of organic matter on my glass. Night time on the west coast. Black coated men stroll down to the underground , creaking steal jarring my mind. The spot is leaving a sound before I see it. Bells ringing their Mexican sound. Where are they going Juan, I don’t know Philip.
At first there is fear. What will happen when the door shuts behind him, will they come over? Can I easily scream?
Car line beeps under my head all night moon is high I can see it through the reflection.
Friday, March 19
Field notebook 9/30/09 to 2/18/10 Transcription 2
I want to be with them I don’t have the luxury of hating this life style but at the sametime I, unconsciously, can’t do it
They are cleaning. They want to get home. At this time of night no expensive customers. Blood on the sidewalk to keep the illusion.
Boy in suit talks to all the ladies. Boy in suit what does he want?
I just “vaulted it” and walked in to it. where are we. High. Nice to meet you. What is the whole setup here. Don’t talk to me. MADDDDD! Kegs, I don’t want it. fuck you they are the worst . you suck. No stairs. (lustily)
Fountains. Late night, nights. No beers on tap. Whatever. no, one of those beers. Miller? No David fountains are off. Cameras caught me as soon as I stepped on the quad. Great okay. I just need more I don’t know why I just want to let go. Why? One more? couple men in a white suit. Over the top. They gave a look like they wanted more ,then they looked depressed. San Fran tomorrow! 6 people got shot, that’s all.
Out with the glasses. Dishwasher smell. Clean out the clean glasses and clean them again. She wants to just get home to her kids. Three fist a blood mary and two beers, just like on the big screen TV. Not just “I go do stuff”.
Cultural reference: we got 2 changed names, what is your Eagle up to? Slap your crap. Battle cry. Fellow friend, I don’t like you, I have your kitten.
I am in the mafia. Football all the shit going here and there in 2 caravans for 15 bucks. Men with hollow eyes and jowls don’t last.
Cameras watching me teak wood tables under glass looked locked up so no Mexicans can sit there.
COURTESY Courtesy boxwood smell water (blood) dripping down the concrete steps
Black cigs smoke, all in a haze of Impuritance.
Granite walls wax floors put up signs, double screen computers.
California institute cameras are on me all the time. Shadows of dead flowers. voices bugged. Bus going home to work again tomorrow. University Circle we want more of the blood, on the fake seats. Gored concrete, throw your bottle caps in the tar.
Warf is dirty, water was kinda cute. I am soft spoken. Wartime waters looks like black oil. Just let the ocean be. The ocean – another world. The ocean blows my mind. Another world fundamentally different than my life above the sea.
Loko Primo me. Kalientie Kail. Silver wrapper waiting on a call from an earth bound mind.
KaKay ah yes into the… what are the “other worlds”? when one looks at something with the eye of intelligence one is just smoke stinging my eye.
Surrounded by paper napkins ,okay ,work on the car, cut the grass, clean the gum on the side of the side walk with high pressure heated water. It would be very pleasing to watch the gum peal back and fly away . got to get ready to go, but okay I’ll just spit my gum out anywhere okay now why don’t we put up the umbrella and wipe our face with a napkin. Not there is a reflection on the puddle, how depressing.
HAPPINESS IS:
- Dirty puddle filled with ciggy butts
- A loose bolt in my back
- Tar on the side walk encasing small bent bottlecaps
- Ash on my foot that I track onto a nice corporate office
- A number of unusual vehicles covered in spider webs
- Movies I want to watch to escape life with a cup of coffee then I lose interest in the movie and want to do something but I don’t want to do anything
- Opening doors with people coming out and going somewhere else.
- White pure silica inhaled through the nose
- A cool breeze that reminds me that there is a atmosphere
- Unfed plants let out to live
- What is it about all the aliens wondering around eating truths
- Scraping the last pieces of food from a plastic container
- Beer imported from Mexico
- Rings founded on lost generations
- Orange brown dots painted on loose tables made grocery bags
- A patterned infant on the crying concrete ground.
- Overcharged spit stains left on my lower face
- Half hidden hoodies on the crank-operators realistic paintings.
- Alternating drugs taken I continue to eat shellfish
- Perforated concrete stays
Outside waiting for it to hit, hit it has to hit. Drawing lights from internal. Window across the street is out that is okay man smoking watches me, he is thinking differently than me. Is that a question?
Look at the world as I would draw in through a pen and paper. Like looking at the world as I would photograph it.
The big one. Want some chips yes. Well it si not always as it seems. What was it about to night. I don’t know over hearing music man next to me what is this playing what will happen when all this is rotten away some nights are not great for anything but the key is to keep writing, especially on those bad nights.
Tuesday, February 23
Field notebook 9/30/09 to 2/18/10 Transcription 1
Gender relationships are slowly traveling towards the golden bleach clotted valley. Turned out of the bee winged radio. Soft oak blunt foot treads are left on the ant hills next to the beach. Bar tunes filled with sprinkles. I see the bad smells coming out of this rotten pot. I see shadows in the room house I stopped for the night . the one I loved “forever” sleeps next to me , she does not love me.
Experiential cylinders can covet what is lying at their feet.
The girl sits alone watching TV most girls her age are out drinking liquor and being better than her. You think she would hate it but the middle of her mind is gone, her face and body have gone all fuzzy.
Funded, you know we got a couple. Hello nice to see you.
Death market right market sticker on my hanging body. Partner, not here two frigg’n months and the smell of it! Do we have time and enough food what was it I was supposed to repent for? Stern face until it is good enough, still too scared to let it go. Rocks on the wall you had seen as a teenage boy. Walks through the bar imagining myself as him walking through a fancy bar that my parents brought me to on out vacation.
Man wonders into house finds people in the house it is my mental mouse, my house.
Young looking grease on the table next to me. Man in the Hawaiian shirt is questionable, his death is always on his mind but when it comes, he will not be as happy as he expects to be.
At a restaurant a lot of prepared food get tossed: unfinished meals, wrong orders, burnt food, patron send backs, and kitchen scraps. All this food goes into trash bins strategically placed around the kitchen and dish washing area. There is a very unique smell associated with these trash bins. Not a rotten garbage smell ,but a sweet –savory-bleach smell, a sickly sweet smell cut with bleach and savory meats, there would be a stomach turning iron smell of blood on the days raw meat was delivered. That smell has lodged itself in my mind. I spent many long nights smelling that smell high on Mt. Dew and orange juice, sweating in the heat of the ovens and industrial dish washer.
Wednesday, December 23
ERCON NOCRE #2
Stop earth on troll pork no creak past.
ERCON NOCRE
Thursday, December 17
Field notebook 9/30/09 - ongoing (Exerpt) Gender Relationships
tuned out of the beetle winged radio.
soft oak blunt foot treads are left on the ant hills next to the beach.
bartunes filled with sprinkles.
i see the bad smells coming out of this rotten pot.
i see shadows in the room houses i stopped at for the night.
the one i once loved now expired.
Thursday, December 3
narrative #1
The only way it will work is if I can get home to watch TV.
It is 32 degrees and I am on my own list. Ciggy. Beer is not doing it anymore. I will only puke if I have anymore and besides everyone else is asleep. I don’t want to be alone with the drunk voice in ym head telling me what I know I have to do. I just want to go home watch some TV and try to sober up amnd fal asleep. I have a choice more tickets or one more beer.
Anxiety is all over me right now. Go to the pisser white tile, the rancid piss smell. Come back to the bar. Weird man comes in, asking the bartender for something. But he was talking to low to hear.
Field Notes - one night late november 2009
Overturned bottles of beer litter the beach
The blood soaked grass is a picture of rainbows
Ash on the plastic table or on the concrete sidewalk, next to the bench
Sliver turn for the fingers that clamp down and keep it tight. Moving – glass bubbles – ash – rotten stone.
White boy on the concrete steps. I pass a Mexican selling oranges on the corner, as I drive by. What does he do at night?
Taking pictures of sprinklers why are they on at night? Water drains down over the sidewalk it makes me think of blood.
Ciggy makes me want to go home but what is there. I can’t quite see it in this state. I know what I need but right now it is 2 late.
Scratches in the plastic table: An accumulation of lines.
I hear a creak and a ping. Cars along 101 in the distance. A chair next to the window outside. What is trip going to give me? Another escape. What am I escaping from?
Keep going up the stairs to the time when I have to go home (I am not alone there) I am alone here with my ash and bubbles.
A new white page and the orange glow of burning paper lights up my thoughts. All alone here in my plastic table surrounded by rotten posts and amateur thoughts. Trying to end it all.
Damp pants in the desert. I fart remnants of life I am part of the ultraviolence of simple life forms. that does not jive with my easy life style. So I drink alone. I am friends with these words. I am searching but stuck within the nounds of my own limits.
Bubbles on the rim of my bottle the observers above me lock their doors. The lights are still on for me. Time is broken as I take a sip of my beer and think.
Still rising. the blinds are half open to an empty apartment. The walls settle with a creek and a ping. Singular holes in the wooden doors there are beings just like me behind there why are they not here with me trying to answer these same questions. I go back home and just be drunk and feel sick tomorrow.
Split the shell and blow smoke up in the air. There are others like me out there. We all breathe in and out and wonder what everyone else is doing.
I sit at the railing or in the plastic lawn chair listening to the sound of cars, music and my own words.
Spit hangs off my tongue as it makes it way to the floor. There is a lighter with an eroded sticker next to me.
I have the choice to be alone with my thoughts or be alive with my actions.
Monday, November 30
Tuesday, November 3
Field notebook 3/17/09 to 9/29/09 Transcription 5 (last)
Employ for cash back go away power to train with food percolators over not to continue did not talk we want to break them tell me anythings mad we found our players were not 500 bucks later. Rich mover too B blee the nasable you forgot the OOOH. On the coast of century Afrika centuries of debate over 16 year old directives. Hhelp me over the hill Ted Bundy I love what you have done with my house, the decorations are great.
Talk talk we are not going to tonight okay what can we do I can’t sleep tonight he, not me, said to her (I loved her) she said okay well I’ll just have to keep you up.
Walt Manchester going overboard tonight, ‘don’t’. Well I feel like wood like a decaying log but I am here so it is alright to feel bad, is it not? I can still enjoy those rare times when I see the purple flowered trees, and empty.
I can see her as old her face has android colors she is penning her magnum opus she is mine she is mine. Her weight is inconceivably huge, without certain technological advances she would be dead.
Over all this - what is all this - was I born into all this? Have these lame movies and music always been this way? Have there always been people like this?
Drink opens me up. See the dirt but the dirt is not so disgusting. I watch it, it is not making me sick what I see is love sometimes.
Can’t hard to start, core to talk to. Although when the end ken book is already there. But that is not a problem I willingwill not try ,that is okay.
Old ladies drinking they are old what has become of their lives I think my negativity is coming from a habit that says how vile can I get. Oldness just give up you go to bed and lay there try to fall asleep but the thin tiny thought comes. Is this it? And you shake it off just like 10 million times before and sleep and have shelves full of sleep. Good nice drapes, grey in color. As I pass out. Waking up reciently with a jolt of anxiety a jolt dualism a jolt of ‘I should be something I am not right now’. ½ blowing steam of color out of my mouth face painted grinding old wooden floor used as a bar here, dilapidation. If I remember correctly there is some clay that I think I can use to make some cook ware up over the hill.
My knees hurt they are numb after I unbend them after they have been bent for a while. My finger joints hurt. I want to take a nap. I feel a level of anxiety about being sick which, is much worse. I am afraid I am going to die. I am afraid I am very sick. I am.
The shadowy entourage killed the human beings in K-Mart tonight ,they were all wating to be cash cows they were all filled with fat and depression and bad skin
Oblique testing revealed my weaknesses. After all the paper work was done they started asking me all sorts of soft, slightly sitcom amusing questions.
I am motivated by money
I have only one light to live, that is my motivation.
My eyes flashed a TV’s electric blue as the dance began. I was left with black eyes and a black suit with black buttons and a black belt and shoes.
This creature. Flying to the left of the flowers in the machined ground next to the hotel.
Flying butterflies on black mulched ground. Smoking cig on grey steps next to brown painted steel handrails. Purple incarnation. Yellow yearning. Blue grey limestone.
What is teeth and pure talent and feeling
Saved myday to the next they have brand new with untouched packages
Tuesday, October 13
Suggestions
- Happiness is the intestines of a dead man
- Overbearing parents do not do their own dishes
- Chronic bed wetters don't keep promises
- Why don't you just give me a chance I can do it really good
- Wobbling over to the tended field I fell over and hit my head
- Nothing is in the pure white hospital room
- Just keep the truth at hand, always
- Only eat things with color
- 100 blizzards in her neck while I obsessively played the video game
- Future furniture can't be held responsible for their actions
- My future context is founded on ancient doctrines
- Nothing will lend money to concrete sidewalks with broken tree root
- Under the rusty tree, eaten
- We were lost in the depths of outer space without a thought about the world as we had known it
- Don't buy houses next to neighborhoods by bars if you want
Field notebook 3/17/09 to 9/29/09 Transcription 4
An I am a little disappointed the standards of our goodness is just not showing up. And I can’t keep my mama and I say you suck. I figure if I don’t get a huge refund I will just ream out the deductive. Your own mind it is only a couple of 100 bucks – and that all comes from a seasoned “Guy”.
So no just can’t understand what I should just drink until I. so no ya every thing falls into place ya I understand ya he is a gold guy not into myself here. We got.. Yo, just got to do what you have to do hey that’s your man don’t let him hang horhay is in the house.
Exactly just listen. god, I am good right now he understood hey he crossed the line I got some shit to show you get your fuck.
Lot to write about. To much energy 2 be here can’t stop to think can’t spell, got spell checker 4 later. Uncontrolled what uncontrolled. Here, just kinda feeling kinda glassy to sharp and unstable. Glassy is a good way. Unsure if a drink is really what I need. I can make it go away. Feels better when it is for me feels better when it is for me no form no expectations. Nothing….
Worst vodka tonic ever. omg it sucked. I still drank it because the bar tender is a friend and he made it strong and I wana get drunk so I ordered a Guinness instead and it looks good for (pushing my ego here, deleted).
Lets have a ciggy where is the berlin wall. Actually MD-PA. if you were not a guidance counselor not a bar tender no other way around. I want to listen to P.S. I want to relive my youth. Fuck my youth. Fart. I hope knobody noticed. The thing that separates me from Joyce is Joyce is dead and 99.9% of what I write is boring.
Feeling more spongy and feeling myself floating into the surrounding matter except for the spider on my neck. You never meet the ones who put it there. There is only the hope or maybe the neutral potential that others can relate to the work. My life is confusing and at many time horrible and sometimes unbearable the only path is to draw my way out.
Panormous – pizza hot pizza search
My mucus membrane is healing with prodigious amounts of Guinnesses.
I still ned you outside I need you oh god in the my my you put me (bed in the cabin) down look at my face I need you inside need to stay awake awake – shadow – I hate him.
Dendriurethane. Pure 80’s fun, I like my 80’s music in capes and spring driven. Big boobed blondes.
Six heavy walking chilled hockey stars. I just started personing. Close faced hard working tater artists. Sounds sounds 10 docks. We will get ya this is not fun I got cute once, go some place you know, go down a 1 way street the time, put your came for the eating flesh on. I went my my way man six really chilled drinks to the escape pods yes yes yes yes!
Monday, October 5
Field notebook 3/17/09 to 9/29/09 Transcription 3
Enjoy all season long!!!!!
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What is the other been confused with what my purposes are what happens when I just write for myself or draw for myself for that matter the reader/viewer becomes me or the creator becomes the created.
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The creator becomes the created for
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Again, the GREAT “how one pronounce words conversation” is going on, how boring.
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He leaves his guy took the when he I am fields under the no boby ababy baddaydydad 41 1:00:30. To go in the half galss legged he has under ooh OOTOT every Saturday looks at me and over me can’t but be got to make that as long as I coon cat see the game. Who is that smell? To much perfume ugh golden highway folded airplane. The clown is leaving the game is over to drunk to care. Metso kun too no moko me ta trust me to be your request not really but mine to read got to IOI to got to II can’t I III TTT I steal but on.
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CREATIVITY
What happens when the created beomes the created for i.e. the artist creating for their own self (enjoyment, pleasure, “a need”, etc…)
Art can exist on its own without any “deeper meaning” – “social commentary” (art is mine)(art is mine)(myartismine)
This is what I have been trying 4 all mylife. The thrill of having others praise you in Intoxicting! (but) Give it up – leave the Earth for the Universe.
I wonder about the validity of authors/artists who show/publish their work. F that if I like it I like it (? Lazy excuse) my mind/reasons/drive is the only thing I need to worry about (what am I trying to get here? I am trying to rationalize something here, justification of an underdeveloped sense that I am worthy and good. I see myself as partially human. Am I without the tools to process jealousy and fear)
Writing lets me expand change/… (beyond what I thought before) my consciousness/models.
I mean this influence of creativity thing or this duality between creating for yourself and creating (following reworded) to prove to others that you are amazing. Art as self-centered rather than as Sele Destroying (the latter being the positive) or boundless creativity as opposed to thinking to much.
The two are very different, the creating with logos vs mythos? “thinking too much” just becomes an inhibitor to creating with purebeing purecreativity. Go beyond that, and then beyond that, …
Some artists worry so much about, “giving a message” “saying something” (and that becomes the whole piece) (and if there is “worry” present the work will fail the artist and viewer) (not that giving a message is bad, but worrying is death) (conclusion? I guess don’t worry, and just keep working)
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Mindfullness walking – encounter with different beings. Strutting in the middle of the street – proud man.
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Number crunching number crunching 10 years ago that is predicated on really caring what is going on. Night in total darkness without light I can feel at home no eyes looking at me nobody to care about what I do alone and free, but I am alone in this.
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I have to learn to change or I have to really put a lot of effort or energy to be good – this is just an idea. This notebook has to be transferred to be mine (deleted) this transfers the spirit of the work I am going to be fighting this all my life the spirit behind the work for me for “them” for an idea. What is the “what is the spirit behind the work”? (deleted)
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That’s fine yeah ---- a fine man and sometimes he goes home and works 29 or 30 years and life is too short and I will go home and do 29 or 30 years of work and that is a lot of work.
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She shot me in the mountain retreat. We used to be so organized I could plug it in myself. But that does not constitute an… well I hate to say it for embarrassment but for aggression.
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Cosmic burst – vodka on ice
Thursday, October 1
Field notebook 3/17/09 to 9/29/09 Transcription 2
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Is she a clown? She was attractive until I realized she looks like a clown but was not a clown. I don’t like clowns but that is not a good reason to dislike a person but a person who looks like a clown but does not know it, I have no respect for.
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(Deleted)
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Call me to come over and wait .now I smell bleach and loud successful men. No no not here hold my tender hold.
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Feel Alien. Must be the dishwasher smell – bleach and dissolving old food.
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“everyone needs to change the universe”
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What is it about those things that make me love someone so much I could cry.
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(Deleted)
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But what does it mean to do this? manifest destany Manafest Destany Man A Fest Dest Tany
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Look and smile. Chatter energy energy smile first 3 of 10 yes yes yes you did it body rubber boddy rub.
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Resavior constitut resavior constitution pain killers pain that is too much to fear of death no say. Say. 2 much to say in Texas. You can live outside it without being an ass about it.
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That’s is a large bottle. I need a drink from that large bottle know it is my time for a wonderful thing
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He looks like a boxer there used to be people like him in the movies. Now there are just beautiful people. But fuck I don’t care about that. I don’t care about that dullness I am exciting.
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Cat meows – off people like pigs these days old scars from beating off the devil off.
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Gentile my ass I want to drink tonight.
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rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrI just like looking at the words.
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What is genus. Did Dylan Thomas have it (trying to train myself to write in caps, spelling not yet) What a Genius.
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The witching hour – he loves heer trying 2 much fuck this DWDDDW over the hill. Name the ship. OTHER
Tuesday, September 29
Field notebook 3/17/09 to 9/29/09 Transcription 1
Irish Fucks, Irish Fucks, Irish Fucks, Diamonds they say – I am telling you god damn goddamn ooooooo! Split fish on the happy days, yes. Around damn Irish fucks. They want us to have a good night. Baseball cut-ups, just feel like change all – I want to drink all night I will kill time not time change From much is I – it is heavy that chain- man. I don't not know things, I am unfull. Later… be nile or go away, is a big ass me I was man just frying my classes glasses. 5:35AM just man, not hardest. all it is, is the hardest in me, time to change – set it up okay. Thing – self – the hardest the hardest. Boring got to sell yeah ya yay I will. Iis we boring? Not real, I… this (points to body) are all here just trying to make it! You think it is hard you are!! Did not feel creative today on those pills. Not da helping - ther I was th' just an'. Days stick to form, I know development. I am tired of my own shit and any time you are ready come get it.
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This is a true pintI even fill it them
I am beliu
I am a bigfella's
Drivite sector is d' beliefe
I get pints!
I GO WITH AN ALE IN
THE ASS
PEARL
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Ridiculous I don't get it I don't get it walking listening go? Another one boundless –trees – branches see me scattered bits of information I could have done that I could have done that distorted. Real. Stuff. Truly beautiful when the concepts are washed away awareness of it. Art devoid of context but not making context an evil. Just not faking or taking anything to seriously – some are just boring. Class room. I want the branches to touch the mountains what is that I don't get it. How much are they worth. It's okay I have seen much worse. But what about me. Judgement. Awareness. Art is nothing. Just more stuff. Boundless stuff.
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French ModernismMatisse + Cezanne = genitals?
2 cups H2O 110°F (~I cup per loaf)
(add)
2 ts yeast
1ts sugar
2ts salt
(optional: add egg here)
Whisk it
Then add flower until you get consistency of heavy cream
Change tools – whisk to spoon
Add flower with spoon
Continue till hard to mix
Let sit (cover with damp dish rag) 1hr – (until) spongy (yeast growing)
Before it falls stir it down
Start adding flower again until it looks like it is done (kneadable)
Then knead – 10min
Cover in oil
Let rise – proof it – should hold fingerprint – either shape it into a loaf or pound it down and let rise half way – make loaf
Bake 350 30to40min
Done – tap bottom of loaf should sound hollow.
(it tid-bits (oaks, caraway, raisins, other dried fruit, nuts, seeds and so on…) are wanted add while whisking)
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Sunday, July 12
Sunday, June 14
Boosting the Virtue of Boredom
I like to read about people doing drugs
I like to read about crazy people, people with schizophrenia and manic-depression
I like to read about ---------------------- and ----------------------
I like to read about people eating other people
I like to read about murders
I like to read about speedball overdoses
They are all popular, I don’t like doing coke or killing or tripping or cannibalism, but I wish I did so I could be popular, I need to be told I am valuable.
Is there transcendence in decadence?
no