burnt out husk requiring a little space and intelligence reports are clear.

also never came through, funny thing, can't fool me now, ah well guess it is harder for you, get lost, maybe you'll find something, right now you really make me sick.

oh shit i am so fucking shot down, i am going to cry, trust in the bust i had already fired you. please check yourself lest you wreck the shelf you tred so lightly on.

oh shit i am so fucking shot down, i am going to cry, trust in the bust i had already fired you. please check yourself lest you wreck the shelf you tred so lightly on.

there was a twelve step i forgot 11th power to those shown breaks acoss a billiard bank balls aching to have it known.

i really want this to be but it ain't and i'd gone.

i watch tv BRAIN decay? it's all brain decay. theres no rationalization for how much i get sad..,. i went out tonight and was scared i'm always scared, be my childhood for me, i dare you to try. it IS hard, harder than anyone will let you imagine, i don't even know how to wrote anymore, thanks.

i'm going back to work surveys for a couple of weeks. maybe i can deal some pot too.

bleh i think

that i remember a time when
beer tasted good,

maybe that was earlier this evening before it was so warm, maybe it was a dream i had once where all the colors were impossibly bright and i was in love, i wrote some crap and i erased it cuz it was stoooopid, i do that alot.

i feel kinda like an idiot and the longer i'm left alone the more i feel like it too, but to tell you the truth i like being alone alot because i don't feel like i have to do anything for anyone, i really am this critical of everyone's stupid ass behavior, i act like a total dolt myself, but usually on a personal level.
i am not really much of an individualist though. it's not the way outta anything. cars are a major problem. isn't just gas either making all that energy any which way is pretty difficult.

and what to do ever but wait to see.

i sleep all day right now, i'm too lazy to do anything.

i am sunken boredom and tepid frustration.

sometimes i find it impossible to sit up a thought runs through my head that is panic basically of the color don't do that if you get up you'll die. i'm not sure what i'm scared of.

i've been tired forever. lost in brain smog.

i could tell you what has happened to me and what i have done, is that me? i could tell you what i love the most, is that me? i don't know how to define a me. i guess that's why situationally it becomes hard to seperate yourself from what you are feeling RIGHT now. knowing this doesn't seem to make it easier since i still can't find a me.

i hate my life. i have to go make some calls now.

i can't believe how many people simply annoy the crap out of me. how the fuck am i supposed to not get annoyed, so far i've tried being an ass which was fun cuz i got all my frustrations out when they were caused, i've also tried just leaving when i get annoyed, which is why i don't come around any more anywhere.

well i guess i'm not even scared it's more like desperate i don't really know what i'm going to do ever. i'm all shaky and tired.

i'm scared and lonely.

otherwise i may as well just up and die.

i will find work by next week.

also going to job interviews makes my blood plasmify and all my ateries feel like they are about to blow. the important thing to remember is it is NOT dangerous and i have nothing to worry about, that statement makes me infuriated for some reason. everything about my life is crap.

well i've been wallowing in myself for two weeks now, no job yet because i am a lazy cunt. i sit at home trying not to spend money. there must be some kind a way outta here. i am pathetic. i am unqualified to do anything.

i wrote that entire post because all i've had running through my head all day is let me take you back to first contact.

i'm going to take you back back to first contact to particles everywhere but where the image was produced in a world that i had created to replace this one. i had made it already, the problem at contact being of course not the harshness of criticism, but rather the completely illogical nature of it. i had prepared my flow prepared for war i hadn't prepared for this. everyone is petty, disloyal and completely shooting themselves in the foot, my heart sinks thinking about it.

Wiki syntax (MediaWiki) HTML Rendered output
"''Doctor''? No other title? A ''scholar''? And he rates above the civil authority?"

"Why, certainly," replied Hardin, amiably. "We're all scholars more or less. After all, we're not so much a world as a scientific foundation—under the direct control of the Emperor."

(Quotation above from Foundation by Isaac Asimov)

this is funny i was talking about wikipedia to some east coast small towner guy from an old job who was picking up some weed off methat it seems inspired at least in part by the asimov idea of encyclopedia galactica and the indexers etc. then i go through some shit about ikipedia and low and behold a text describing how wiki content works uses an exerpt from the foundation to illustrate the differances between html and wiki content. this seems highly coincidental any information that seems to corroborate will confirm my suspicion in that point, cool. sci fi writing the future, how do they make those wonderful predictions?

what happens at the end of this graph they've plotted? like: we got it all suckers, later. and then they blast off in a space ship made out of an uncharted island paradise?

yesterday's posts were surreal like someones grandma on acid mind-melded with a college professor. still think those things, don't know why i wrote them. say hello to all the people for me.

i hate everythign about my life, good enough for you?? i'm scared and broken, i want money.

i'm gonna go now. say hello to the people for me.

i just watched blaine do some of his shit, personally the quarter tricks he does are the most impressive, important. he does this one where he pretends to twist his arm around like three times, he's wearing a windbreaker and every time his hand is facing backwards, he spun it back round quick like but you can see it, like a missing frame, people don't have enough faith in illusions and the human capability to produce them. the kind of despondancy it takes to practice shit like that is scary.

people who have "given up" in the internet are retarded, i lost my initial awe long b4 any bubble burst, but things do make sense wikipedia being one of the best, i have yet to read and article as easy to comprehend in any other source. i know it is so incomplete but what is there can will must be expanded upon everyday, i think the innerdweeb is the coolest ever.

deconstruct my frustration asshole, try and do that with dualities anus face.

my buddy just called and asked me to write a five page paper on derrida for fifty bucks, i don't know if i'm gonna do it yet, it's all at once infuriatingly simple and infuriatingly convoluted. why do they always try and make way they say important?? why do they not want advancement on the subject? it's a fairlyboring concept. one shouldn't even bother trying to piece it together from these bits and pieces terms stressed from twelve differenty angles, what the fuck obviously the understanding is in the tensions, start there throw in a little nonsensical phonetic play and there you have my theory of language.

im also super hungry.

i am scream and throw things around right now, this is my self control, i have massive amounts of it, what i don't have is any fucking ambition. i'm too tired to be.

this head space is limited to those actions and quirks i've developped to disappear. it's cold and i'm broke, my telephone has been disconnected and i owe a fair chunk of change. the computer is too loud it makes me want to scream and throw things around.

drugs and a drink, i need drugs and a drink, scary shit with out your medications.

sweet little birds on my porch waiting out the rain, and the fan on the processor distracts me again, i am frustration blood built up between storm windows in eyes i want to scream and leave i want a concrete womb or a mountain top i will send you love by telegraph, where is my calm? what is this wreck of distraction always craving a line that would make him sick crippled wasted mentally disabled gushing pustules of rotten stinking emotions.

my heart is pounding my fingers shake and it's actually harder to type. curves and angles plotted graphs nothing for me to see to feel the grooves laidout on tracks now erased. i only give you what you give to me. i am the all singing all dancing crap of the world.

i guess one of the problems in the end is i WANT to be titilated i WANT to be enthralled i need it to be real and i want it to SUCK me up into the place where we all belong. is that TOO much to ask? but sometimes late at night in heavy tongue whispers white against the cooling air i suck myself up and start forward again... pretentious? never but i'm sensitive and quick enough sometimes to be my own prophet. i hope it's self fulfilling cuz boy do i have something to show you.

i woke up at five today, well actually i just spent like 5 hours in bed cuz i didn't feel like getting out of it. then i watched fucking tv. i am boredom.

and managing to not write all at the same time.

guess what, it's saturday and i'm blogging again.

i soud like i'm fifteen but all of that stinking mess is true, i want to make a scream that is music and so compelling you have to move. i need job now, now job forth coming, more on this later.

there are so many things i want to tell you to break them all make them see but i don't want to see those things, i have seen those things, i want to let everything but the knowledge that these things are happening and CAN NEVER HAPPEN i don't feel strong to carry them with me for deliberate weight i want to let all of them sink like harrison bergeron stones to the bottom of this stinking swamp i don't know what i'll describe then but i think i have no choice. i need so much quiet to think, i am sick of working at these jobs always cutting in on the meditation i need tobe doing, give me a clean quiet job with hard work and clean goals so i can think. but my back is so fucked i'm not even allowed i'm not insured under csst again if i violate those constrictions, i don't wanna work. of course if i'm taking an under the table job i can prolly sue the pants off him because what no fault insurance now asshole.

i want someone to talk to and sit next to me when i'm writing and hold and stuff, i like being with one person alot, they're the only person that can see me, they see me with everyone they get a backstage pass to my life and sometimes they do muck around in it during scenes, but it's only fun when some KNOWS what you're doing it becomes your evil little secret instead of your dirty ;little secret, i miss that alot, i could always find a me, a stable me to an extent me cuz after a while your old tricks are easy to spot. i know that i'm supposed just not care and "be myself" but i have what i want... i guess that is me my agency, i need a way to get it and i'm sick of feeling weird when i manipulate people, they are being robots i am just hyper extending jointsn till they bust anyway, i really wanna see you. go go away i'm tired from the fear and desperation my skin thins without drugs now and i can see my blood in there pumping back and forth so precariously balanced the slightest blockage affecting the pressure. my nervous system so pressure sensitive, my face pressure set, i am tired and often sad.

i keep trying to right things sos i can write things but they don't seem to sort out, i feel like alls i get is worse and worse, i always wannanother drink, pill line smoke, i need something to replace this shit i know it's a woman, i can't try anymore.

i'm bored.


and sad

bleh.

sex and the city is on... i feel like uninteresting poo, i'm gonna subject all four of you to it. this is boring, i want to feel upright again, alls i feel is uptight. it's friday and i'm fucking blogging, this is somehow retarded. i am all alone and impossibly boring.-+ the keyboard just hit the table and did that, i guess i'll leave it cuz it makes sense. the springtime to me now is like a never ending stretch of bleh. i have absolutely nothing to do tonight. i skipped out on the thing that i had to do and now i'm wishing i had gone, but feeling like this i'd just make another ass out of myself, and i'm better than that shit.

i'm supposed to be a guy, a 24 year old man to be exact... wtf?

just because you guys don't know how uncool i am i just thought i'd mention how i keep getting choked up at fucking long distance and tim hortons commercials. wtf is wrong with me?

bleh bleh bleh.

it's weird trying to let go of something how you keep get sadder and you can't take anythign, so you try and turn back but it keeps hitting you in the face, and by this point you remember that you were never really good of letting go, right before it pops, the alloon turns and winks at you because death is imminent and balloons are cheeky fuckers. i'm still sad.

fuckin sick of alot of things i guess.

it's strange but when i look around the blogosphere and beyond i don't see a whole lot of good male writers, oh a few who(a)re talented and completely full of shit, i have a feeling this next period in literature will belong to women, every single last one of the blogs i think are going anywhere are written by women... no i'm not being a baby, i'm trying to be honest. bullshit i call on y'all bullshit, stop trying to be all that shit; manly, sensitive clean scruffy... impossible, give up, be the rotting mess you are and i will read, you may find it hard to get laid when your persona gets laid to rest, but i assure you you'll make it count when you do. i'm sick of people pretending to like each other to get along... look you should just get along because you aren't a complete fuckwad, if you can't get along with me unless we're sucking each other's cocks how about going to fucking hell you creepy pieces of shit. everyone i meet is like that pale fucking faces sweaty hands or clamy blank stares fucking sick of it.

i can't do anything right now.

i ate all day which is good i guess cuz i was feeling pretty skinny,
i am fucking screwed, i need a job.

positvely post post write now.

what i meant i guess is that you don't get anywhere, oh you'll get through it to the place where you started, only more sarcastic, more leveled, i took a couple of gravol at the end of drinking, so typing is hard but so is sleeping so i'm gonna psot but beware i might be back. dramamine it was dramamine.

i was all like cooool, for a second like: my body is the perfect metaphor for how i feel, then i thought about it and my body is what i feel, whoops. sorry about that folks, i don't think that there is somemagical land where all of a sudden we are past this shit... nu-uh i have actually gone through it, you're gonna get used to it, trust me, better take care of it.

i have a giant cyst on my leg, awesome, this is what it looks like:







and this:

meh... still just kinda meh.

why am i so pissed off i dunno, for real, prolly nothing right now. i feel really gross.

bleh bleh bleh. i am blehing right now. my ears are burning and my hearts all spastic and my stomach feels like it's fumbling just to digest the water i've ingested. i feel warm and cold and bleh.

i think i'm gonna try going to a shrink, maybe they can just give me some xanax and i'll be fine or at least no more cold sweat u(l,nd)ulating feeling

i feel, i do, many would swear that i don't that it's just a mess of connections and electrical impulses, it is, it is why i feel not why i don't if it were something pathetic like a metaconcept or something i would've figured it out by now. the dreamers, that is who we have to blame, the romantisizers the popularizers who had no idea what they were saying. it is beautiful because the pain is anavoidable and now i crave it, because it burns and it focuses me into hard white light.

i feel sometimes like if i stand (up,out) it will spill a sadness from my belly, a warm gush of impossible to hold in.

also i'm drinking moonshine and taking time to smell smog and backbreath of 6 BILLION huge ass animals the same species as me. i am. night sky, cityscape the cometogether the same way coffee feels and tastes like high school memories, warm and a little yellowed around the edges, like new love untainted by the shades of newer ones. and afterwards always a smoke.

i feel bored and empty, holla back all ye hollow husks of stars not big enough to collapse into themselves.

also i'm not drunk or stoned at all. well maybe a little stoned. but not enough.

also i'm more than a little broke.

its one of those truly delicate and elgant ones simple only in their lack of flaws.

it's really weird to come across a really good blog, one published by a warm open person and find yourself unable to even comment that you find their stuff good, like not alright but good, i guess you just email them when you just can't hold it together and you have to make sure that you will be getting more of this and soon.

don't wanna be here think this is a crap period in time, feel really shitty. don't wanna do all this, don't like people mostly.

the ridiculous part was it was the most interesting thing i've seen in forever. i'm tired.

i have to get out of here. friday i went to a quebecois wrestling league called the flq it was fucking ridiculous.

where did all of me go, everything i loved and hated?
what is this ruin of a life, when will she be on my side?

none of this works.
i'm sick of trying.

i can see her looking at me
just so i don't have to pretend, to compensate for what you can't see, and maybe i'll be looking at her the same fucking way. i don't wanna have to pretend to be happy just cuz i'm with you, i want her to be just as pissed off and tired and soft with a voice like liquid razorblades. i ruined anything real i've ever had trying not to change, and i was scared she wouldn't love me if i did. forget it.

i can't do this much longer.


i miss the smell of a woman in my bed,
i miss the way her skin would feel,
i miss feeling like i have someone.


everyone is so cold.

i shiver the whole night through
sweating and swearing
yes i get too excited when
i think you're around.

it gets nore important than you believe,
to be held, to be holding
a royal flush
to beholden emboldens
and traps us laughing.

sadness is a secret
the dirtiest ones that you can remember
not half as stinging as a fresh blister
in the open air, one you got getting drunk
to loosen up your spine
and ease the strain on either side.
it's so quiet in the pain
sometimes it gets easier to sleep and lose,
hopefully lose sight.

bleh

i am tired and done, i don't know what colour this is but it stinks like rotting toe.

i still don't feel okay, but now i'm just real lonely as usual,

anybody want this? they can have it i swear i'll be good for you as long as you're good to me.

i'm going to work now. good bye.

i don't feel okay.

i feel really weird and not at all like i can cover my own ass.

and yeah now i'm more of a loser.

and FUCK YOU

and nobody wants to get hit that much.

and then wtf? but its not gross at all it's pathetic and whatever and fuck you and i'm tired and fuuuuuuuck and yeah, of course. yeah fuck off.

I HAVE MY KEYBOARD IN my lap and nothing, nothing like worse than not realizing caps lock is on like nothing i hurt inside

why is my brain going to explode all freaking day.

life is the most miserable thing you've ever done to me. i hope the other half of it doesn't suck worse.

today's my new years, the day i was born. 24 stinkin years of my life gone, by any stretch a full third, yeah im starting to feel old. i bought myself a 3 dolla cigar. i need to get out of here. it's almost done, i'm tired, i am not happy with any of this, i guess that isn't changing. i need to write more but everyone gets me so fucking down and annoyed. damaged goods comin through for scraps and parts. salvage.

i love being drunk enough not to remmeber writing something.

fuck you and fuck your whole familly go rtell some0ne who cares... wait you have some one... tghen die, leaST OF ALLL fuck off.

what i have is everything youdon't nothing much but better than distilling our hatred.

bah.

my head feels like jello pudding with practically delicious lucky charms floating about.

recipes for dirt and desire

cocktails for disruption.

lose everything you own,

tell everyone that's left to get lost.

meet under a bridge at midnight to make a deal.

scare easily and do alot of drugs.

now forget everything you know

forget you.

no forget you.

blood trails like vapour air stales like a young heart fails
little droplets of me all mixed in with you, our only child this thickening pool; traces of love lost on the pavement, my brain is alive with the thoughts of my fingers as i grab hold of the touch, traces of you remain, it stings against the backdrop of all the lost time in the world stretching out b4 me and i'm sorry for you and sad when i remember that there used to be a me. this is all i have for you mother is it enough? "not if we are both to live", i swallowed it whole and ran. i love you all, creases in my favorite jacket.

fuck it... i am making sonme fucking money tomorrow

i love you im pathetic and ur right i can't write i am going to bed.

i hope that works, it won't but i can keep pretending. it might actually work though?? or there could be more girls that are not fucking concerned wether you want them but just want you, the way guys do it is by just pretending the girl wants them everytime.

i am going out tonight and i am going to pretend that whoever is interested wrote every last word that you(s) did and i am going to love her very much for one entire evening into the morning dew brush off. i am in desperate need of the heat.

i have been drinkin so much blue ribbon i think i am going to start again.

so i turns to my wife and i says: what's the yellowest thing you know?

-school buses

-well a thousand school buses are double parked on the 401 all at once.

sorry i fucked him up i DON'T think purdy would mind.

bad connections are the best

pabst date.

also blue ribbon is heaven in a can.

and a dumbass... i wish iwasn't but i am so you are going to have to deal with it, i do.

also i'm fucking retarded

and it's not cuz i am anasshooe that i'm like this... i am and asshole, but that has nothing to do wiith it, it cuz you are. no you figure out who i was talking to, they do it everywhere, i'm gonna USE IT.

this ias different you know??... i am writing these posts becaue i want someone to respond, two line posts??? fuck are you retarded, please touch me because i am indoobidly sick nd i need YOUR help.

thank god fer roaches cuz i was gonna fucking stay up all night drinking and doing coke.

naw, that goes away pretty quickly, i really do want my toe back, and my innocence, but like a septum they don't grow back, and i want to hug her, she hugged me, you know???

i just rolled all my roaches, it is disgusting and distracting... i don't care how i feel as long as you let me feel.

i FORGOT TO GET POT and i am no longer a drug DEALER. also reading someones blog is like dating them, but actually dating them...

i'm so drunk i'm listening to my mp3 player sixteen feet away from me, i am now "offically" making up everything i hear, good night.


ps i have no weed, i will kill you.

i love you... and that's it, fuck you i love it.

i'm not that tired and yeah we can go again.

super bored, aggravated, etc. i wanna go out but hopes have been dahsed with a grain of salt, no energy to correct the mistakes i've made, only enough left to make more. i'll tell you the point boy, it's the only one you'e missed.

money money money, oh yeah i'm a limping contradiction... i want more music, i want more booze and a frozen nose oh yeah? oh non! it doesn't have to be so.. the forces whoo.

i like to go nuts once in a while it cleans out your great pore, like a good sweat.

in city as i hustle for a paper stack...

all is quiet cept for the rat and the paper mouse.

i will re-join the human race by touching someone because i want to. lord know i need to get laid.

and fofr all of you out there,
who are waiting for me to fall
in love, waiting for me, to care

i ain't gonna happen, well it will but you'll know it when you see, it, it is gonna be hilarious, too cats lookin eachother in the mirror scaring eachother and trying to look cool while falling into the realization. everytime i false step i wind up in a concession, pleasing mammy, fooling daddy, and trying like fuck to plant one right in my brother's fart knocking face. doubletime should be for getting MY shit done. point game match. i will find somebody that doesn't make me sick, i will not give up after i find them, i will keep looking, this is my promisary note to myself.

i am sick of everything. work had better not fuck me. if it does, i am holding you accountable, because i told you first and you obviously sabatoged me, get it, i got it, good.

it's crazy how things take like four or five days to get over, and 10-15 years to face. fuck memory, you know how you feel.

moonshine & orange juice, i'm about to croak.

i want to go now you can't so i'm gonna make like i already have. no line breaks and it all sorta runs together you get it? got it? good. i just get bored and finished, boy likes to alternate current. up and down, in and out.

poijhfgblarrgna

and i ain't gonna be donating or founding, i'm gonna be paying guerillas to take your head.

even better babe, i have to make this money, i'm sick of listening to this shit.

i have five dollars for four days i haven'
t paid rent, i drank everything i owned tonight, why? because i don't care, why cuz i was testing a theory, it's not going so well, it's working out exactly as i had thought, i have no contingences for that.

it's almost like intelligence and sensitivity have become a survival trait for the "under class" now, those calm enough to accept the fate of never populating an entire world, seem to give up on finding anyone... wtf?? like you're going to find any one that matches?? you realize a little earlier, perhaps early enough to accept it. yeah whatever, people whose parents divorced seem to focus everything on that, you'd hope that they get hit by a truck too or something, otherwise they can be pretty boring.

i write alot of shit here, all of which is true, but my life is bullshit for the most part, so none of it can be trusted. people don't get being crazy, they all are but they don't get it, that kind of freaks me out you know? well if not fuck off.

keep on writing in the brain numbed world,
keep on fighting like a good girl.

what am i supposed to do anyway, and i'm sick of the sing songy s-u-DOUBLE p- bullshit, that is definetly cutting in on my thinking time fuck man, my head sounds like a kindergarden, a nursery ground what with these fucking retarded "coping" methods all cutting in... fuck. fuck you and all your coping methods too, i am fucking retarded, good enough for you, fuck you change your attitude b4 people ask you what didn't happen to you... fuckers.

i hope so,

anyways

i'm tired i gotta go to bed, but obviously i can't,

i don't know what to do,

i hate telling people what to do

but i'm not half as confused as any of them,

and they all seem to wanna talk so bad.

so badly

it should be a pretty funny summer.

i want that money so bad i'm scared to have it.

if the new job i found doesn't pan out today i got to look in the mrror and the hour for jobs as well as apartments.

sittin alone wasting my time because i can.

everytime i smoke a joint i need to shit.

my nose is a cavernous wreck filled with a ridiculous amount of neon jelly, it's dried cracked and bleeding i don't know how i got this fucking sick. evrytime i cough i taste magnificence, radioactive semen, mucus trails like pond scum in the rusty bottomed bowl everytime i spit...

you guys are probably the coolest people i don't know, definetly cooler than the people i do know.

i took a half tab of the funniest acid ever last night and i'm still laughing.