dont let your son go down on me

This is the sound of a structured settlement. I guess we all need something to illustrate our fascinating otherness. how we are not bricks in the wall, just the mortar maybe. the things that are talked around, the anti-shortcut, the scenic route through life in the Everglades of conversation, or conservation as the case may be. perceptive meets persuasive. in the glossing over, the mixed metaphor, I have completely gotten turned around. the no spin zone becomes a no fly zone and then something about the reality of remembering. to intuit or inflagrate - "the unauthorized biography of my mood thermometer". how turning profanity into prose causes lost in translation smile nod who gives a shit moments to feign profound spiritual moments of ephemeral transcendence - the comedown of consideration. the current depression - no money mo' problems in the post 9-11 breadline. the proof that perfection is passé and stories of epic, tragic or redemptive nature are the new money millionaires. reinforcing bad behavior, acting or attitudes. the hero is the villain, see, there's a twist you wouldn't see coming. the piss stain of postmodernism. is it really a confession if it's your opening monologue? some people live honestly without honesty and some people wrap themselves in expectation. some things don't require a disclaimer or defy explanation. other things rule the artifice of complication. no assembly required. no thought desired. voyeurism is overrated. this disappearing act becomes the party line. disaffection graduates to modest income venues.
Going nowhere becomes less the destination and more the scenery.
I am always amused when the hidden depths of arrogance innocently surface in the ripple of another's reflection. Guarded communication and as Josh and I say, the "pansexual insult" serve as the personality litmus test for the subject(ed). Is it a desire to be so relatable to others that you will always be included? I don't understand in this post pronoun era to be a jack-off of all trades. the hooker with a Jarvik heart of gold, making bling fair trade and compassion whole sale. So I suppose this is my way of saying, yet again, in the quest for personal I don't know what and misguided retaliation of minuscule authority, I accidentally hurt someone I care(d)? about. How much can made of the oft hostile work environment. In my case, this job has found a way to exaggerate my worst characteristics. I am irritated at people that are sick, poor and usually under-educated. I used to cry at work after hours of these interviews. I used to feel like maybe we were fixing something, or I was a kind ear for people that didn't have anyone. I would get contact high off injustice and underlying classism. Now I just sit and wait for the axe to fall.

I need to be patient.
I need to feel less intensely.
I need to exercise compassion.
I need to be more detached.
I am alienating, to people who might like extra-terrestrials.
I am self destructive.
I am reactionary to delayed stimulus.
I am unnecessarily cruel.

the critical condition

In the workplace, the colors are neutral greys, smudged whites and harsh fluorescent lighting. the calming colors of windows email applications and solid blue backgrounds. the imagination has left the building, probably with mesothelioma. the thoughts that come doing menial, repetitive work. the genre of films dedicated to the dissatisfaction and rejection of the perceived american dream. working in an office, the water cooler, the email after email, the passive aggression has gone viral. what is the point : work makes you free, work is its own reward, work and recreation : an essay on priorities in light of the looming economic depression. "non sequiter" (am msg - god is making changes and if I don't return your call you are one of god's changes) the lack of personal responsibility in the quest for health care reform (?). shooting the shit: how communication is responsible for turning white liberals into closeted fascists - or healthcare is for celebrities. how structured questioning of the sick and poor can lead to the desired results to obtain grants and purchase property on the ever expanding moral high ground. I hope you wont be requiring a nebulizer. reinforcing our own stereotypes : the downside of being human in the now century. being right : selectively agreeing with people who mirror our own views on the world, thus closing the gap on our perspective to the ever popular, tunnel vision. how new and unexpected things cause people to recoil deep within themselves (masturbation metaphor?). the joy of routine or how middle mgmt can make you feel like your job is a 1950s marriage that you will never escape because you have lost the will to live years ago. the vice of laziness perpetuating unhappiness because change is work and work is energy. that's chemistry ya'll. and not like e-harmony techomagic, formulas and stuff. so all this boredom and all this conditioning to erode violence and utilize mediation makes for a veritable Exxon Valdez recreation in the icebergs of our neuroses. A drunken captain and everything goes down, icebergs still intact.

for all those that lost their valor

I have no idea why people as emotional tourists are surprised when the ride is up. Replacement, time killing, imagination.

Lately, I have been dreaming a letter that I would write, and put here, hence the title but I dont remember the sound and the fury.

sometimes you need a reminder

So Elliott,

I was in such a good mood at work today. And yet as quickly as it came, (insert terrible joke her(e)) I hate work, Sadmen-unstration. So I am going to just put what hopefully will make me optimistic again and find a new job. Or a new city.

Character flaws and personality traits. Always in a state... of emergency, state of redemption. Forgiveness is a future transgression away. Storytellers, cartographers with dubious landmarks, the unimpressed and the overworked. Drink specials and late payments.

See you soon?

the unknowable hour

Thom,

Acknowledge the regret.  The forgiveness, the loss, fleeting satisfaction. 

You cant go wrong with a love song.  Far better than obsession, endless distraction, the sexually active imagination.  The salvation in the mirror, just a bit clearer.  Happy endings for massages.  The poles opposite and the thoughts vacillate.  

The pond, the stone or the ripple, alone.

There is no point.

Where you stand is what you see.

Judas , party of one

Hunter,

Last night I heard the line, summarized, "It's not your life to live" or something like that. Despite the record lows outside, I went for a nice walk and felt great. For once, or perhaps something like techno magic, which is not an extended coke jam version of Yeah Yeah Yeahs Y Control Brooklyn Fire Retouch, although that is awesome. Techno magic in the sense of walking down an empty street with a beer in your pocket, then in your mouth, then on the ground and your IPod on random playing several appropriate and forgotten songs.
First, next, last. Bed

It has been a strange week. Truly. Too much intake, still waiting on results. I think in terms of half remembered poems, from institution to discovery. "Oh god, real life".

Masochism and getting what you want, or what you think you want because there was distance and now close up you realize you just want to be wanted. And then you get bored. And then what happens?

Oh yeah, in regards to what Veronica said about pointing out things when people are upset, when you ask people preemptively why they are anything, dont be surprised when they get pissed when you ask, why are you mad. Also, growing up is phase, and the one you are going through but you dont have to justify your actions to anyone but yourself. And I am not being nice or being supportive.

Also, my thanatic drive killed my libido. Now it just about remembering.

On a lighter note

a test pattern

Dylan (like in the movies),

Sometimes, I feel that giving your words, thoughts and time are the best currency to use.  When you hear them echoed, the larger "you" seems to make things like infinity and quantum physics interesting.  The idea of interconnectivity, chaos theory, barbecue and compassion.  The days are filled with longing, the desire to get it and keep it, and forgot why we lost it to begin with.

When I feel like I am so alienating that I am destined to go backwards until the Beta Max is reissued, (time is CYCLICAL), people surprise you.  I surprise myself by holding back, in spite of eyebrow manipulation to the contrary.  I guess I am too old to say things just to watch people squirm.  It is usually an accident when I do that to people I care about.  

So I guess I am thankful for tolerance and knowing that everyday you can be better.  Or you can apologize.  Or you can move on (dot org).  

Even though I dont really see you, you loom in my thoughts.  Your words, my words, Thom Yorke or Petey Pablo.  The point is ... we get it across.  And I think we get it.

I guess I we all laugh to distract or entertain.  Or to keep from crying.  Which can be funny as well.

Murray - Pete Yorn 

Pillar of Salt - Thermals

and cheers to Veronica, MGMT Kids