Psychobabble is defined as prose that uses jargon, buzzwords, and highly esoteric language to give the impression of plausibility through mystification and obfuscation.
Wednesday, October 3, 2012
oct 2nd
ignoring the impulse to exchange places and to extend future releases by a minute. cry to remember past mistakes but I will be ignored as well. it is my birthday but I repent everything like everything else, and somehow I appear back at the studio with a datat cd full of musici. too much effort to consider the souced. I will destroy tomorrow.
Sunday, September 30, 2012
Sept 30
He goes to the ocean to touch the water and feel the sand beneath his feet. "This is now my life," he tells himself. Young, unshaven. The look of a vagrant but without piled up back packs. The air cleanses the system. Unclogs the arteries. Feeling the soul breathe. He is at a home here. At a resting place. The water is personified. Waves crashing with careful divination. There is something spirited, effervescent. "I can hear it calling me." A haunting and deeply moving example of a tune. Something that can outlive and outrace time itself to the end. We are so minute and callous never to feel these connecting emotions. The feelings that could gather us together in great numbers to apologize to the world. To mother nature and her children. We are more her children than we are god's. She is a presence we can physically feel. The ocean breeze. Radiating sun-warmth. Salty scars and scare tactics and motion sickness as we suddenly feel the earth spinning out from under us determined to shake us off like a bucking horse. (a fucking horse?) All of the grandeur, in the sense of splendor and impressiveness, not as in the social psychological sense of self-worth or material wealth in the eyes of others; a high class of social status. We are rats in a maze with no true exit. Inviting scents of warm food permeate through the still air but they seem to be coming from everywhere/nowhere. Did we imagine them?
Gregarious youth. Resplendent on the dance floor. (growing in open clusters or pure associations). Sumptuous in the red dress. Something to be atoned for later in a taxi cab confessional. We are all criminals of one form or another. Enter a state of ataraxia... a state of freedom from emotional disturbance and anxiety; tranquility. Drunk enough to feel the effects of sudden revelatory sentiments. Brought out by the depths of inebriated consciousness. "I don't remember what happened last night." Give this person a bottle and ask again. They'll tell the whole story. Get them sauced. That magic potion. The one that can teleport a person from one moment, in a crowded bar or restaurant at night, into a strange and head-throbbing morning. A lapse of consciousness in all of the glory of representation. A gaping hole in that memory. Forever gone. Sad to see it go but it must be so.
Motivate the sense to wish to try new sensation. Try that different flavor and become a better judge and jury for the world as a whole. Not as a bubble. But as a whole. A conflagration to take out the richest houses prior to purchased insurance. We, the small people, musicians with business ideals take note and remind ourselves to protect against that for future revenue. Invent new words put them in a dictionary of sounds you made up and then defined. Give a damn about verb tenses and pronouncement. We are beyond that embarrassment. No one snickers now. There are no classrooms full of texting middle schoolers to back the nonsense. Not in my life. Never.
Opulent. Poetry. Theatrical entrance. Harrowing detail. Revulsion. Quixotic plans to rearrange the shorelines of the world to spell out my name. Something crazy and idealistic but also unfathomable. You can't comprehend such nonsense without becoming a victim to that entire tragedy.
Gregarious youth. Resplendent on the dance floor. (growing in open clusters or pure associations). Sumptuous in the red dress. Something to be atoned for later in a taxi cab confessional. We are all criminals of one form or another. Enter a state of ataraxia... a state of freedom from emotional disturbance and anxiety; tranquility. Drunk enough to feel the effects of sudden revelatory sentiments. Brought out by the depths of inebriated consciousness. "I don't remember what happened last night." Give this person a bottle and ask again. They'll tell the whole story. Get them sauced. That magic potion. The one that can teleport a person from one moment, in a crowded bar or restaurant at night, into a strange and head-throbbing morning. A lapse of consciousness in all of the glory of representation. A gaping hole in that memory. Forever gone. Sad to see it go but it must be so.
Motivate the sense to wish to try new sensation. Try that different flavor and become a better judge and jury for the world as a whole. Not as a bubble. But as a whole. A conflagration to take out the richest houses prior to purchased insurance. We, the small people, musicians with business ideals take note and remind ourselves to protect against that for future revenue. Invent new words put them in a dictionary of sounds you made up and then defined. Give a damn about verb tenses and pronouncement. We are beyond that embarrassment. No one snickers now. There are no classrooms full of texting middle schoolers to back the nonsense. Not in my life. Never.
Opulent. Poetry. Theatrical entrance. Harrowing detail. Revulsion. Quixotic plans to rearrange the shorelines of the world to spell out my name. Something crazy and idealistic but also unfathomable. You can't comprehend such nonsense without becoming a victim to that entire tragedy.
Saturday, September 29, 2012
Sept 29
Apply the college-ruled mindset to all outside application. Give me the opportunity to shine and I will try my damnedest to become a diamond. A strobe light. A reflective surface that has the power to blind until further notice.
-----
Dizzy in an unforgiving heat
a man hit by a car in the street
blood and radiator fluid
feeling stupid and pulled apart by horses.
feeling myself disintegrate.
I told them I'd be writing. But I'm falling short of my goal. I'll find it again when it's no longer forced...
------
There is the day drunk who tries to land an ice cube down the front of a girl's shirt. She'd call herself a woman indignantly. Am I misreading everything? Who knows. Sometimes words come out of my mouth that were not thought out ahead of time. This is good and bad. I struggle with the ability to say whatever possible, whenever... versus holding out for good taste. Holding out for good taste implies missed opportunities with the blurt-it-out-as-it-happens technique. Good taste means a sincere and honest as well as humorous approach to the situation. Is there the comedian with dark sensibilities? Yes. A rarity. The ability to speak in good taste with an open mind in all situations.
Keep your hands by your side. Watch television shows. Create nothing new. Add nothing to the world only detract from your own life. Fall in line with diverse crowds of nonchalant party-goers. "I have no plans, let's do something." Or did I make it sound like I didn't want plans? "Alcohol is a waste of money, truly." There are contradictions in everything.
Ice melting on hot skin. Something athletic and worth a heart felt curse or two. Fucking shit. The world is possible. Why not let it take over completely? There is nothing more cowardly than to give up in the face of ultimate victory. I am not one to take the blame. Rocking body in a solid frame. Something unconventional. Be nice. Be nice. Be nice. Or am I too jaded by humanity? No. I'm in a great circle. I need to realize this forever. Days away without much discussion. Forget all the drained energy. Conveniently located on the same night. Reminisce past experiences on the day. Thrice and Tech N9ne. Always music. Prior to that California and The Flaming Lips. For 18. 17 and 16 blur together in family activities and then headlong into friendly activities. All I have now are friends who wish to get me drunk. Sounds like a solid plan. Or do I think too much. Feel all the paranoia in the world. Be the asshole they warned you about. $12 vomit. I'll have an interesting story to tell. Whatever happens. Staying out the night of the show. The day of my birth itself. I have no idea. Probably an awful hang over. Through the birthday wishes. Try to take something to combat that prior to drinking. NO HO. It's antidote. Alcohol being poison. Wondering aloud if there is anyone else to meet or if it is all involved in stupid flattery. No one will care much.
----
Guilty of wasted time. Overheated and under fed. Am I creating beautiful art? did I create any? having consumed energy drink or alcohol. one really just to keep from sleeping earlier. now trouble sleeping. it's fucking hot. and I'm anxious. there is something awful and narcotic about all of it. a personal stash. stay drunk all the time. we are all destroying each other and the mood shifts. incredible incident. speaking highly of the others. the political debates. they both call each other close minded and insolent. everyone is though. it is not black and white. it is every imaginable prism of light. a bike ride and a hostile take over. all of the everything erased. backed into my car. pull out method. all the stupid jokes that do nobody any good. speak less. I was feeling horrible earlier. caught up in the rich area. all the monuments to their wealth. all of the laughing and meaningless conversation. it set me up to be awful for the night. I did alright though. speaking in tongues figuratively. writing furtively. help me out. hand me something that I can use. birthday packages to my right. all the prestige and humor involved. open it? no. wait. funny. honest. self-control in some aspects is incredible! but hey. productivity. I can't seem to switch off. the weed infused self-defeat. no reason other than to make the ride more enjoyable. isn't it great already? addicts. fiends. ghosts and vodka. I am glad I could not share their mindset. I will be aware of this constantly. talk of the same things constantly. always try to impress the other. be happy and incredible. no more senseless brooding. sound sometimes like a cranky old man.
-----
Dizzy in an unforgiving heat
a man hit by a car in the street
blood and radiator fluid
feeling stupid and pulled apart by horses.
feeling myself disintegrate.
I told them I'd be writing. But I'm falling short of my goal. I'll find it again when it's no longer forced...
------
There is the day drunk who tries to land an ice cube down the front of a girl's shirt. She'd call herself a woman indignantly. Am I misreading everything? Who knows. Sometimes words come out of my mouth that were not thought out ahead of time. This is good and bad. I struggle with the ability to say whatever possible, whenever... versus holding out for good taste. Holding out for good taste implies missed opportunities with the blurt-it-out-as-it-happens technique. Good taste means a sincere and honest as well as humorous approach to the situation. Is there the comedian with dark sensibilities? Yes. A rarity. The ability to speak in good taste with an open mind in all situations.
Keep your hands by your side. Watch television shows. Create nothing new. Add nothing to the world only detract from your own life. Fall in line with diverse crowds of nonchalant party-goers. "I have no plans, let's do something." Or did I make it sound like I didn't want plans? "Alcohol is a waste of money, truly." There are contradictions in everything.
Ice melting on hot skin. Something athletic and worth a heart felt curse or two. Fucking shit. The world is possible. Why not let it take over completely? There is nothing more cowardly than to give up in the face of ultimate victory. I am not one to take the blame. Rocking body in a solid frame. Something unconventional. Be nice. Be nice. Be nice. Or am I too jaded by humanity? No. I'm in a great circle. I need to realize this forever. Days away without much discussion. Forget all the drained energy. Conveniently located on the same night. Reminisce past experiences on the day. Thrice and Tech N9ne. Always music. Prior to that California and The Flaming Lips. For 18. 17 and 16 blur together in family activities and then headlong into friendly activities. All I have now are friends who wish to get me drunk. Sounds like a solid plan. Or do I think too much. Feel all the paranoia in the world. Be the asshole they warned you about. $12 vomit. I'll have an interesting story to tell. Whatever happens. Staying out the night of the show. The day of my birth itself. I have no idea. Probably an awful hang over. Through the birthday wishes. Try to take something to combat that prior to drinking. NO HO. It's antidote. Alcohol being poison. Wondering aloud if there is anyone else to meet or if it is all involved in stupid flattery. No one will care much.
----
Guilty of wasted time. Overheated and under fed. Am I creating beautiful art? did I create any? having consumed energy drink or alcohol. one really just to keep from sleeping earlier. now trouble sleeping. it's fucking hot. and I'm anxious. there is something awful and narcotic about all of it. a personal stash. stay drunk all the time. we are all destroying each other and the mood shifts. incredible incident. speaking highly of the others. the political debates. they both call each other close minded and insolent. everyone is though. it is not black and white. it is every imaginable prism of light. a bike ride and a hostile take over. all of the everything erased. backed into my car. pull out method. all the stupid jokes that do nobody any good. speak less. I was feeling horrible earlier. caught up in the rich area. all the monuments to their wealth. all of the laughing and meaningless conversation. it set me up to be awful for the night. I did alright though. speaking in tongues figuratively. writing furtively. help me out. hand me something that I can use. birthday packages to my right. all the prestige and humor involved. open it? no. wait. funny. honest. self-control in some aspects is incredible! but hey. productivity. I can't seem to switch off. the weed infused self-defeat. no reason other than to make the ride more enjoyable. isn't it great already? addicts. fiends. ghosts and vodka. I am glad I could not share their mindset. I will be aware of this constantly. talk of the same things constantly. always try to impress the other. be happy and incredible. no more senseless brooding. sound sometimes like a cranky old man.
Friday, September 28, 2012
Sept 28
up close and personal with tiny little brushstrokes
we can lose ourselves in such distractions
but it is beautiful to fall into a hallucination
without the influence of anything narcotic
we can become drunk off a scenic drive
well past the legal limit
we can get high off the too-clean air at 8,000 feet
and giggle like children when they first experiment with violence
a new sensation
all over
frozen stride, you are not alive
conspiracies to condemn great mystery
as basic human fallacy
regulate your heartbeat
and you might live through all this mess
white-hot embers of a recent deceased fire
seeking shelter in the abacus of a tomb
nothing but haunted ruins
dust clouds hanging low in that sky
two opposing scenes of storms on the oceanfront
different coasts
warm colors and cool colors
one takes over the ship entirely
one still has faith in developing
a ship to withstand the powerful wind
dionysus! let's share some wine!
great arbiter of the heavens
shine something light and fruitful down
upon me in this waking state
prove yourself in the shivering cold
the murderous wolves abound
a tasteless poly for an upcoming film
this would not happen if you allowed yourself to exist
all supernatural
nothing can be falsified
therefore it cannot be true
or false
the presence also cannot be confirmed
no evidence either way
it becomes a senseless discussion
there are much greater things to address
in the present tense
the state of the world as it is
what if you are wrong?
heaven was invented by the devil
to convince us that life on earth is not as beautiful and tragic as it truly is
to convince us that there is something greater when we die
in order to keep us silent and obedient
hang your head in the gallows for such blaspheme
in this media frenzied world. there is hardly any truth.
everybody has money dangling in front of them as inspiration to continue...
we invented money!
what about art and beauty? the Grecian system of aristocracy?
create something huge that will forever outlive you
it is the basic human instinct we try to ignore!
this does not mean a child.
to propagate life cannot be the sole purpose behind a human life.
most animals work this way. to preserve the species.
but we are beyond that. we are overpopulated. overcrowded.
a child is adding a social security number to the fix.
this shit hole of a society that mirrors our most central hearts.
there has to be something more.
a crusade of education where everyone learns something life-changing
I want truth! Truth!
I can't live beneath false gods. Dollar bills and considerable losses.
I cannot believe in something without evidence.
A good religious scientist could make it his life's work to disprove the existence of god.
Why capitalize god? Why do we do that?
(It's a proper name. They'll say)
It's an IDEA. I'll say.
Believe in YOURSELF
we can lose ourselves in such distractions
but it is beautiful to fall into a hallucination
without the influence of anything narcotic
we can become drunk off a scenic drive
well past the legal limit
we can get high off the too-clean air at 8,000 feet
and giggle like children when they first experiment with violence
a new sensation
all over
frozen stride, you are not alive
conspiracies to condemn great mystery
as basic human fallacy
regulate your heartbeat
and you might live through all this mess
white-hot embers of a recent deceased fire
seeking shelter in the abacus of a tomb
nothing but haunted ruins
dust clouds hanging low in that sky
two opposing scenes of storms on the oceanfront
different coasts
warm colors and cool colors
one takes over the ship entirely
one still has faith in developing
a ship to withstand the powerful wind
dionysus! let's share some wine!
great arbiter of the heavens
shine something light and fruitful down
upon me in this waking state
prove yourself in the shivering cold
the murderous wolves abound
a tasteless poly for an upcoming film
this would not happen if you allowed yourself to exist
all supernatural
nothing can be falsified
therefore it cannot be true
or false
the presence also cannot be confirmed
no evidence either way
it becomes a senseless discussion
there are much greater things to address
in the present tense
the state of the world as it is
what if you are wrong?
heaven was invented by the devil
to convince us that life on earth is not as beautiful and tragic as it truly is
to convince us that there is something greater when we die
in order to keep us silent and obedient
hang your head in the gallows for such blaspheme
in this media frenzied world. there is hardly any truth.
everybody has money dangling in front of them as inspiration to continue...
we invented money!
what about art and beauty? the Grecian system of aristocracy?
create something huge that will forever outlive you
it is the basic human instinct we try to ignore!
this does not mean a child.
to propagate life cannot be the sole purpose behind a human life.
most animals work this way. to preserve the species.
but we are beyond that. we are overpopulated. overcrowded.
a child is adding a social security number to the fix.
this shit hole of a society that mirrors our most central hearts.
there has to be something more.
a crusade of education where everyone learns something life-changing
I want truth! Truth!
I can't live beneath false gods. Dollar bills and considerable losses.
I cannot believe in something without evidence.
A good religious scientist could make it his life's work to disprove the existence of god.
Why capitalize god? Why do we do that?
(It's a proper name. They'll say)
It's an IDEA. I'll say.
Believe in YOURSELF
Thursday, September 27, 2012
Sept 27
"For Beauty is nothing
but the beginning of terror, which we are still just able to endure,
and we are so awed by it because it serenely disdains
to annihilate us." Rilke Duino Elegies
Beauty in this sense refers to powerful art or music. This is the feeling, provoked by a overwhelming sense of powerlessness in the face of aesthetic perfection. For example... the feeling in your heart after witnessing a live orchestra that transports your soul away to somewhere higher than you were beforehand. The feeling lasts in its extreme only awhile but it can carry on inside your heart for days... years... Carry that beautiful experience with you. It's a good book. An awesome concert. All of the quintessential brush strokes that make up an intricate, yet huge, abstract painting.
-----
Where does the time go? All of everything in between is weird repetition and practice. I inhaled chemicals until my head ached. Did the time get to my head? Suddenly I imagine myself longboarding down the main strip at ASU campus. On a beautiful day. Sun dresses all over. Brain full of incredible knowledge and commitment. Will time make me forget? The math equations, surely. Does past exercise even count at all if cut off? I'd have to learn again. But it would be easier this time. I could live in a desert again because I have experience. I could use this to my advantage and truly never feel any anxiety. I would jump into the pool continually. I would weave my way throughout intricate stories and live smiling.
There was a overly ambitious art project and hours of experimentation. Hundreds of photos to work with later. Over 200 words in the song. Each word is a few pictures worth. Background images growing and growling to come up to the surface. I follow instructions. Stretch out the mind and the legs and the back.
Using intuition. Isolate the self entirely. Come out strong and swinging heavy. When the time is right. But it is not about keeping bad relationships together. It is not about intimidation. It is about courage and the willpower to call an old friend to say hello in the midst of a empty time slot. Not just weed and tears. No long, wasteful showers and nights spent sleeping with the A/C on full blast and with 9 blankets. A wasteful creature. Tasteless. Senseless.
But no one calls. No one plans the rides or the trips. Everyone talks up their abilities to pull through. A 5 hour drive. A show somewhere over there. Fuel me up.
---
restless legs. I want to grow up in every city in the nation. I want to travel through every place, soaking it all in with incredible intent and all the patience and beauty in the world. I have ridiculous itchy feet. I want to run across the country and back. see what they see. fill my cup with hands on experience. visit every major city in the world and fall in line with a new culture. fuck!
but the beginning of terror, which we are still just able to endure,
and we are so awed by it because it serenely disdains
to annihilate us." Rilke Duino Elegies
Beauty in this sense refers to powerful art or music. This is the feeling, provoked by a overwhelming sense of powerlessness in the face of aesthetic perfection. For example... the feeling in your heart after witnessing a live orchestra that transports your soul away to somewhere higher than you were beforehand. The feeling lasts in its extreme only awhile but it can carry on inside your heart for days... years... Carry that beautiful experience with you. It's a good book. An awesome concert. All of the quintessential brush strokes that make up an intricate, yet huge, abstract painting.
-----
Where does the time go? All of everything in between is weird repetition and practice. I inhaled chemicals until my head ached. Did the time get to my head? Suddenly I imagine myself longboarding down the main strip at ASU campus. On a beautiful day. Sun dresses all over. Brain full of incredible knowledge and commitment. Will time make me forget? The math equations, surely. Does past exercise even count at all if cut off? I'd have to learn again. But it would be easier this time. I could live in a desert again because I have experience. I could use this to my advantage and truly never feel any anxiety. I would jump into the pool continually. I would weave my way throughout intricate stories and live smiling.
There was a overly ambitious art project and hours of experimentation. Hundreds of photos to work with later. Over 200 words in the song. Each word is a few pictures worth. Background images growing and growling to come up to the surface. I follow instructions. Stretch out the mind and the legs and the back.
Using intuition. Isolate the self entirely. Come out strong and swinging heavy. When the time is right. But it is not about keeping bad relationships together. It is not about intimidation. It is about courage and the willpower to call an old friend to say hello in the midst of a empty time slot. Not just weed and tears. No long, wasteful showers and nights spent sleeping with the A/C on full blast and with 9 blankets. A wasteful creature. Tasteless. Senseless.
But no one calls. No one plans the rides or the trips. Everyone talks up their abilities to pull through. A 5 hour drive. A show somewhere over there. Fuel me up.
---
restless legs. I want to grow up in every city in the nation. I want to travel through every place, soaking it all in with incredible intent and all the patience and beauty in the world. I have ridiculous itchy feet. I want to run across the country and back. see what they see. fill my cup with hands on experience. visit every major city in the world and fall in line with a new culture. fuck!
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