| Confusion Reigns 2011-10-25 09:48:54 ET |
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They say that john Holmes was well hung.
I thought he died of AIDS.
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| Writing a new book 2011-10-04 05:54:11 ET |
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It'll be called:
"Writing for a Non-Existent Audience"
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| Re: Reddit 2011-09-18 20:05:27 ET |
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Okay, you noobs. I'm going to start posting my writings onto reddit because at least somebody's bound to say something about it.
They'll say stuff like "what language is this written in?"
and
"This is brilliant work....if written by a 4 year old. Is the writer retarded? Be honest. We're all open minded here. He needs to be encouraged. Maybe he has an extra chromosome?"
Or, better yet,
"If I squint I can almost see a sailboat but then - nothing - it's gone!"
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| What? What? I'm writing here! And, no, it has no point. 2011-09-18 00:42:47 ET |
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The wind shrilled and whistled outside his window as his ceiling light flickered with a pale luminosity that had covered the room like a dull yellow curtain. He was writing. The pencil in his hand sloppily etching out words on an old and worn memo pad. His head hung low. His vision slightly blurry. It was a late hour and he was dying for a drink but he did not get up to refill his cup of tea. He had to stay here. To ride the wave of inspiration as it took him. He had no goal. No aim. There was just the moment. The chance to grasp something from the aether of the mind.
His green robe was falling apart but he wore it to protect his skin from the mosquitoes that would at times swoop down onto his skin and, with a momentary feel of moving bodily hair, would bite into his skin and draw blood to feed their young.
On hos feet were thick rubber slippers. Blue in color like the color of thought. He rubbed one foot against the other in absentmindness. Write. Just write and that is all that matters.
..Her eyes glared at me with a fierce intensity but I feared to respond for fear of pushing her away. I did not know her. Was she giving me a stare of attraction? Was it a sign of welcome? Should I stand up and walk over to where she is sitting? Should I sit by her? Next to her? Should I touch her?
Or was it a stare of disapproval? Of criticism? Was there something wrong with my appearance? I looked down at my shoulder to see if maybe dandruff flakes have formed a small constellation on my shirt. But there's nothing there. What sort of stare was she giving me?
And why was I too chicken to find out? What was I scared of?
I stood up. A hint of hesitation halfway through the motion. Maybe something horrible will fall off, I thought. Maybe I'm going to knock the table over in my clumsiness.
But no. Nothing happened. Her stare was still there and I, with a bit of a held breath under my wing, strode calmly, and yet with a suppressed hysterical shaking, to her table.
I thrust my hand out (maybe she'll shake it) and spoke with a pretense air of confidence:
"I saw you staring at me from over in the back. I just wanted to introduce myself."
- And she paused. And time stopped. And she looked up, her eyes centering on my neck and yet somehow beyond, and spoke:
"Excuse me?"
That's when I realized she was blind...
The tip of his pencil broke. The inspiration was still there but the will to continue was gone. He leaned back and felt the robe rub against the hair behind his shoulders. What was it that he had written? Was it a joke? Yes, it must have been a joke. But he knew that he wouldn't laugh at it. It was too personal and yet it never happened. Nothing like that had ever happened to him. Thank God!, he yelped out. And then realized that the inspiration was still calling him. This was going to be the start of a novel. A romance novel. One with the most awkward of narrators attempting to romance a strange woman. A time traveling Hellen Keller.
Stricken with the Plague.
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| 2011-09-13 00:32:56 ET |
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wtf? Dream geography is weird especially when it's consistent for a while. I tried to find the locations using Google Maps but they don't exist. I'm just not sure if the locations are based on something or are totally independent.
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| The hookah made me dizzy 2011-09-07 19:26:19 ET |
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Sometimes the walls seem like they're closing in. Pneumatic arms pushing against sheet rock panels, making everything shrink down to a miniscule size.
I am reminded of my briefcase with its hidden camera and boom mic and the weird limited perspective it provides. I use it to document my travels, of my trespasses through the world of barriers. Of buildings long closed down, of military bases patrolled by crew cut muscular types with one hand on the butt of a rifle (or shotgun) and the other holding up the barrel guard. I wear a suit. Conservative. A tie, nothing fancy. And shoes, Italian looking with rubber soles. A man with a will, stern face, and a slight hint of a smile can get anywhere, through everything, with a thorough head on his shoulders as his only true ally. Even the guard dogs respect this. Probably because they sense emotion better than any one man.
I step off the train. Not too sure where I am yet. Slept on the floor of the bathroom of this cold Amtrak train. An "Out of Order" sign signifying that I am not to be disturbed.
Rain. Was it raining or did it just start? The ground beneath the train is proper soaked. Must be some sort of storm. I lack an umbrella. Oh, well. It is time to get wet. I can't stand on the station platform for too long.
I hear it again. A whistling screech between my ears. It's not tinitus or, at least, I don't think it is. It means something but I don't know what yet. I may never know. That is something I must acknowledge.
I must walk on. A cab driver hails me. I tell him I'd love to but I can't afford the ride. He points accusingly at my briefcase and suit. I shrug. I'm acting the stereotype, I'm not living it. The water in my shoed goes squish squish but I walk on.
I pass by a hookah bar. The lights are off. It is closed. The door is locked.
I step inside. Taking my shoes off I lay the briefcase on the floor and lay down using it as a pillow. I will rest for now. I will wait out the storm. I will record more later. But for now? For now I'm dead to the world. Goodbye.
Thunder crashes somewhere outside.
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| Ovaltine (A rap song) 2011-05-18 05:00:35 ET |
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Show up in the club with a smile on my face
Talk to the staff like I own the place
People know I'm a celebrity
I don't wait in lines
I get drinks for free
Girls come to see me from a-far
Know that when I'm there it's like an open bar
Sipping on Grey Goose, silver tequila
Baby come closer
I want to feel ya.
Let's go to the restroom
You follow me
Bend you over
You lean on one knee
I'm doing you hard
There's coke on the toilet
Medical grade from the looks of it.
Med grade coke looks like Ovaltine
You snort it up, baby
It is Ovaltine.
I say "baby that's hot
Wipe your face in it like butter"
She looks back at me
Thinks I'm such a nutter.
I tell her "don't you cover your face in butter?
From those acne scars I can tell that you ought to. "
You say you've never been more offended in your life.
I say "baby, I don't need this strife. Just snort this Ovaltine. Let's get on with our life. "
You kick me hard
Between my legs
It's okay though
I'm still hard from the sex.
You run out screaming
Ovaltine on your belly.
I step into a urine stain
Start to feel a bit like R. Kelly.
Baby this is the place where you want to be
Straw in your nose
Snort that Ovaltine
With me.
*CHORUS*
Always remember to drink your Ovaltine
(Ovaltine)
Rub it on your upper lip
Like cocaine
(Cocaine)
Rub it in your face like butter
(Butter)
And baby snort some Ovaltine with me.
I rush out from the restroom
Looking for you
It is very dark
I can't see through
The crowd is packed
The music's bumping
You're out there somewhere
Your heart is thumping
Something special on my mind
You've touched me somehow
Way behind
The psychological barriers
Of my childhood
My parents didn't love me
Never understood
Why I ransacked the kitchen
Every day
Cabinets thrown open
In a way
That made them think we were robbed.
But we weren't.
*CHORUS*
Always remember to drink your Ovaltine
(Ovaltine)
Rub it on your upper lip
Like cocaine
(Cocaine)
Rub it in your face like butter
(Butter)
And baby snort some Ovaltine with me.
I need it baby
And I need to find you
Noone can know what I'm going through.
I'll show you my love for you
In an Ovaltine way.
You touched my heart girl
You're more than some lay.
*CHORUS*
Always remember to drink your Ovaltine
(Ovaltine)
Rub it on your upper lip
Like cocaine
(Cocaine)
Rub it in your face like butter
(Butter)
And baby snort some Ovaltine with me.
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