meditate on that night of absentia, a big void where the jazz should have been though it was all premeditated in the minds of the addicted, the selfishness and the waxing then waning ambition, in comes in spurts, small segments of pure adrenaline, driving recklessly, swerving violently, over correcting in the sense of attempting to make the car move directly forward in a straight line, sickness over flowing and crashing on my shoreline in waves, the nausea and the sea legs never developing, the directional atlas and everyone is too high to drive without fear, but that was never the original problem. make compromises and make it out to be something small but intimate and awesome, ridiculous to me the negligence of a night out for something stifling. margerita and a chica, no jazz runs too late and the musicianship is too much for a night club hair cut, all of the stupid songs on the radio. Before now I hardly called it music. I can't open my mind that wide.
activate the neurons and synthesize a crowd of like-minded, forward-minded individuals with enjoyable and compatible personality traits. I am made out to be a monster due to my vagrant opinion. Fine. A reason to exist. Music. Feeling like a vagrant with my monster opinion. The world is not small enough for us to reintroduce. beautiful lesson learned on the acid reflux fusion withdrawal symposium, flying free and healthy with guns and drugs and lovers in arms, over abundance of life flashing before closed eyes, missing moments based on faulty visual cues, flower design reminiscent of past psychedelia, the superficiality and the movement of the dress on the figure, we, the jealous, the unworthy and heart-ached, falling to puzzle pieces in the juncture of disappointment and further excitement lost afterwards, all silent and angry, square pegs and round holes or the opposition though I will have to watch Seahawks games in a sports bar somewhere around here, good cheap fun and full of comrades, in arms, kalisnokov, the soviet memorial union transfer student center-fold out couch potato bug infestation. frightful basket weaving around cars and quarters. though it never made any sense to anyone in the world.
red wine poetry or caffeine addicted consciousness. we must exist somewhere without fear and without disobedient energy inside of the soul, stepping in front of desires and stomping down the feet of good intentions, quickly and through a time lapse, we once believed that dinosaurs were buried by humans in order to appropriate the mythical legend of man becoming man through evolution and not the dividing spirit of a hand of a sentient god, something beyond history books and all of the evidence. we research these myths and fall into a stupid trance developing contradictory theory about everything. dinosaurs are real. mostly due to that last statement I've made. arguably I've just invented them into my own belief system. how did they all die? asteroid in the gulf of mexico and the impact crater now buried by an ocean inlet. the impact was not great enough to kill them all but the amount of rubble and dirt in the air would have blocked the sun for enough days to destroy all vegetation and food supplies dwindling in the darkened, lung-decimating air. Molecules collecting and expanding. Unbelievable ignorance. It is willful. Self-appointed. Present and forward thinker. Fine. I exist because you exist. Something huge is missing due to certain points of ambiguity constantly discussed without any evidence or anything backing. the current news. ruining the brain cells.
How could we go on so long without the sounds of pretty birds above our heads?
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sudden cosmic sadness drenching everything green and thriving prior, feel urgent to call dad for advice. how to deal with certain things with cross cultured ambitions. how can I exist so simply yet still fill myself to capacity with fresh and exciting experience? I need the dangerous mountains and flowing slipstreams to justify any sort of potential living in this city. I had terrifying images of my friends and family all turning old before my eyes, deteriorate into the small piles of ashes they started from. (see a spoiled kid and think of the possibility he knows not that he is alive and he may never know. he eats a tiny bag of 5 dollar popcorn and has never known true fear or true excitement. it all surrounds the necessity to get everything he has ever wanted. if his parents have the resources I cannot blame them for spoiling him, especially if the word love is involved beneath the surface.) Who knows. Maybe I would too if I could, but I am too much alive in this very moment. Better myself and feel awful guilty for wasting time and money getting wasted.
here the price increases but the value diminishes. people begin to confuse those two words replacing an expensive car with an economically viable one. I am not "economically viable" and that phrase needs to be murdered, screaming, in a silhouette dark alley. Masking the violent notions. Go to that desire and never turn back, motherfucker!
Everyone impress each other and cut the throat of all opposition even if friendly. Don't they understand that the only way to succeed with any truth is to rise up together. To influence and build off of each other with friendly encouragement and helpful hints. Give each other favors. Become a part of humanity once again. Rejoin and feel that joyous connection that we've lost since the renaissance in our now garbage-burning culture without much hope for anything stronger and more potent without star death. The apocalypse would certainly bring us together more than any bullshit second coming. We are here each once and it is forever at the same time! One in the same. We are all responsible for all manipulations to our unique universes. Hug everyone and feel a fire burn inside your heart, a candle from 100 yards away, flickering, an old engine stirring up, attempting to turn over... heart-death is not body-death these days. no one dies from heart sickness because we are all so desensitized to feel anything beyond the consumer interests preached and pounded into us from television and all media, killing our souls one screaming infomercial at a time, there is no learning to be had from there aside from what to buy and ways to market a stupid captive audience for the myriad Americans who believe tv shows depict reality better than everything you can see outside. listen to music, learn and grow. write and read joyously soaking up the minutest details between those worlds. alcohol and breath mints. left in the van and called a coward. all dressed to impress no one. tone deaf, non-musical people singing along to popular music at the weekend tequila bar. something to lower the bar and all expectations are murdered individually. somehow suddenly everyone understands the depth of shit we've been standing it and says. "I can't fucking stand it anymore!" Smashing a coffee table. Yelling until the voice goes hoarse, straight into the yawning void. So bored with your insolent outcries. The effort and the forward movement of all of history's leaders could not deal with this violently unforgivable world. the void remains. now smiling at our frivolous nature as we run through the rat race in marked off lines, the queues that kill us slowly but violently, like boiling our skin off in a vat of acid, getting excruciatingly high at the same time and feeling incredible stupid and lacking in genuine experience. all I remember is car sickness and other violent behemoths.
I will say something I believe to be meaningful. An unconditional outcry of my entire being. Screaming it and with more passion than I've ever before dealt with. No person answers. It is as if I have said nothing and no one listens carefully to the words I say. I need to gain respect by giving it out. Dishing out more than I could possibly ever receive. The reciprocal nature of personalities and different killing emotions and motives. Humans ignore the outcry of my passions. God doesn't listen. He is bothered by the multitude of prayers for bigger paychecks and then analyzing these lives of scum against one another for any moral ineptitude greater than the other... millions of filing cabinets full of paperwork to weigh they against. He is more of a magician than anything. Or akin to a wishing well. Dear god, I wish for a new car. Something with fast-acting air conditioning, automatic locks and leather interior... So god doesn't answer. He doesn't even listen to any honest outcry, there is too much shit piling up outside heaven's gates. Too much trivia. People don't listen. They smoke and ignore. They give a shit about the environment. They fill up their bodies with repulsive shit and fall into ignorance like something spiritual. I empty my soul into the words I scream at this moment of violent rapture. Everything stops for a moment at least but nothing reacts. Only the void. The void is there, listening. Reacting the most powerfully by listening carefully and then deciding never to answer. Never to reply or respond or explain why. This is the way of things.
"That's a good color on you especially if you don't like to get hit by cars at night."
"He was a man who did not suffer but pleasured in sleepless nights of brooding on the great clock of the universe running down or winding itself up, who could tell?"
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volcanic resurfacing, moving faultlines
redder light has longer wavelengths therefore lower frequencies
bluer light has shorter wavelengths therefore higher frequency
if there is a hole where a mountain used to be it must have been internal. if there is a hole where there was nothing, must have been external
ascension control, light gathering power
the isoprinciple constantly in action: matching music to a mood
88 constellations
velocity/distance... labeled 'something moving'
"to properly appreciate beauty, the viewing conditions must be optimal"
math homework < getting stabbed
the night sky should be bright
calm high dark dry
mt rainier is continental drift
an asteroid with our name on it
"in slower paced courses I'd take notes with my left hand"
thinned it out.. all of my knowledge... feeling dumber having done it but I felt there to be no real reason to keep those documents. the reason behind the 4.0. lost forever. I realized suddenly, achingly that I would never see those things again. but hey. I don't have documents from other semesters to look at. I just wanted to horde them. keep them in my records. look back and learn everything.
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rooting for the opposite team. I went to the bar to waste money and destroy all self-esteem. because I went alone and was judged instantly and unforgiven for that fact. different team judgement. why does everyone here root for the winning team without discrimination? interesting psychology. fuckers in sports bars root for the winning teams no matter who they are, and they take home women. get that drink on the rocks and work all day to afford the burger and beers. help me god. I had a burger and a couple of beers watching the game. losing in all senses. no one approached. it won't happen overnight. I have to change in order to approach anyone here. or there. scoot over fuckhead. all negative emotions flying through me.
