all the riches of the world and we still retreat to television and nonsense
i know names but not faces
cement floors are not feet warmers but the magic happens there
how deep can one get after watching such things?
man, the anxiety of unpleasantries is killing me
life, love, well read bull
of all the places in the world
there is a stillness in that movement
big words than mean grand things
i never told you i could guarantee anything
a boy fingerpicking his own akward sentences
little lights shine so bright
social anxiety
the speed of this town makes my head slow.
rehabilitation is good for most
do you realize that we are floating?
i had my palm read once and all she told me was my lines were clear
why doesn’t that work on humans?
we made each other
i want to crawl inside of this song and live there forever
there are a million other things using this space besides me
she sees her past present future
how did it come to this?
hearts swell everytime he opens his mouth
shouldn’t this be “has to be”? this one really rattled me. i initially thought this was a trick. and now i still think it is a trick.
this reminds me of a photo i did that the dean of my school yesterday said was way too off balance in color and then he said i needed to work on my technical skills which have been afraid of hearing for 3 years.
i am going to be stuck on a plane for 8 hours in a little bit and that scares me because i know what i need to do is take a sleeping pill and if i do that what if i accidentally overdose and die on the plane and then they will have to deal with my body and probably have to land the plane and piss off a lot of people because we will be stuck in the midwest or something instead of nyc. regardless, i will take a sleeping pill because i hate being on planes.
this reminds me of when julie andrews is running across the hills in the beginning of the sound of music. that was always misleading to me because that was an outside shot but the rest of the movie seems really “sound stage” to me.
i have an answer for almost everything and i think that really irritates people. but then i hear afterwards that i say what people are thinking and then i am just frustrated because i think people should say what they think. i am not anyone’s puppet, let alone fearful people’s puppet.
i can’t relate with feeling nothing but i can relate to always having remorse. i always have remorse even when i do good things because i am afraid that i made someone upset by something… even things that i don’t even know about.
why do i keep on thinking of films from the 60s? specifically musicals and children’s films?
i really like my name and feel lucky that my parents had a good surname and then named me something that seems pretty fitting. however, i cannot say the same for my best friend who has a last name, when translated into german, means “cow balls”.
what is the difference between concrete and cement? i think there is one material added that changes it. and then all of a sudden concrete becomes glamorous. i’ve been in those yuppie lofts that have polished concrete floors and think, wow it looks nice here but on when buildings are made of concrete they usually look like shit. because rust drips from the top or when it rains it looks just hideous to me. i suppose it takes awhile for it to evaporate.
i am really embarrassed i thought of the show deep space nine when i saw this one. a friend in junior high was obsessed with an actor from that show and wrote him a fan letter and she got one back from him that was obviously photocopied. but she thought it was real and i really wanted to tell her it wasn’t. it was at that point in my life (well actually i knew better early on) that i just had an awareness of reality that most didn’t and that was quite frustrating for me to know.

is it strange that i feel that i am going to be killed in a jealous, i am sorry - envious, rage by someone? i know i am not mlk, gandhi, or any great peaceful leader like that but i don’t have much trust in those who desire greed and fame, even on the most basic level, because those desires can cause someone to seriously want to murder someone. whether they do it or not is one thing but the fact that people think that is seriously frightening. and what is even most sad is that mlk or gandhi never wanted anything but community but someone hated them for it.
isn’t this the point of living? to experience life and love?
it places the lotion in the basket.
i hate it when my best friend tells me to experience stillness. what the fuck is that? ok i can be physically still but mentally our brains are always computing things - even when we are asleep. that is what dreams are. people who do yoga and shit must not think much.
i think more people should use the word “grand” to describe something. like at a party “this is so grand”. but perhaps people will start saying “this is hella grand”. oh man i cannot get over people who say “like” before everything they say, or if they say “you know” after each phrase they say. i read an interview with ivanka trump who says she tries to say “if you will” instead and i am trying to be more like ivanka trump.
cement under the bridge met the side of a tanker and now 58,000 gallons of oil spreads across the san francisco bay
the gold rush is not over
the mind wanders
is caused by poor self esteem
eat only green m and ms
is based on an errant idea of normal
idealize
prim old my crimes
cannot
perfectly atuned
exploring from
hyperformalism
dancoyote =
agency
quadratic
a pound of pluck is worth a ton of luck
in mexico we have a word for sushi: bait
beware the young doctor and the old barber
without tenderness a man is uninteresting
i do not fear computers, i fear the lack of them
it is only the living that are killed in war
forget that stuff
it pays to be obvious if you have a reputation for subtlty
with jackhammers going off all around me. i wonder. what is this new shiny thing you’re trying to make? are you going to be that much happier with me gone?
i’ve been a closet fan all my life. i sit back, act like prestige and importance doesn’t phase me. and yet, there’s those times i wish i could be ‘known’, could just get a little of the lime light once. if only to really know it’s all bullshit, like i’ve always assumed.
we’re all base. this is true. however, some end up dying of starvation, others find it impossible to spend their vast amounts of wealth. murder: the closest tool at hand for the desperate.

i wish i cared more about contemporary politics. i know i should
travelling is a good way of accruing experiences
on the skin, like in the movie
california yoga assholes drive hummers
my husband is the riches man in the world
covering all the wildlife in a thin film of disgusting grease
is a way of thinking about any kind of migration towards the unknown and exciting
over matter they all used to say
to cry and cry and cry and cry
on the other side
the 10’s are very interesting. at 10 years old, you want to be fireman, or maybe a astronaut. at 20 you’re glad all that uncomfortable searching for your real self is over. 30 comes without much of a shock, unless you really didn’t find yourself 10 years ago. 40 creeps up on you and you have to start facing facts. you are in a pysical machine that was designed to fail with age. that’s as far as i’ve got i’ll let you know how 50 feels some other time.
when we work with a goal, we always wind up where we’ve already been
when i smell sun tan lotion i think back to highschool. running on the track team and my first girlfriend ever. i to this day see myself sitting there on the high jump matts talking to her, and wondering why she’s telling me she doesn’t love me anymore.
problematize, stigmatize, hypothesize
i’ve had this saying for a long time, ‘life never surprises me’. it’s sort of a negative thing really. like of course, everything is fucked up. of course my friend slept with my ex-girlfriend. of course something dumb and pathetic is going to worm into whatever good i have going on at the moment. that being said, it’s always been a challenge to me. yelling at everyone. surprise me fuckers. you have it in you, i know it.
you see those people. tight pants, ‘punk rock’ belt. fixie fixed-er. i call them names, trying too hard (tth). make fun of everyone. break them all down, find faults only i can uncover. then more and more i catch a glimpse of myself, i’m just like them. someone out there is saying the same crap about me. i keep trying to just be happy, i bet i could be happy with most of those people i keep making a fool of. i wonder if i’ll ever be happy for real.
sort your trash, drive a hybrid, use toothpaste without flourine in it. don’t water your lawn. throw away your dish washer. go organic. reduce, reuse, recycle. never mind that big business is raping this world. it’s your fault, your responsibility. the common person is saddled with all the cost and gets none of the benefits. this little lie will be uncovered one day. revolutions will arrise.
i would move from some shit hole town in the mid west to gentrify some neighborhood in san francisco. i would jump the fence in san diego illegaly to work if i was from mexico. i would kill someone if it meant my family would be safe for one more night. in principal people want to get theirs and if you’re a barrier to that, you better be on top of your game.
equations dusted behind identification credentials shredded weasels
silt. grain of sand. plain unobtrusive unmarked vehicle homocide
orange sunsets and fresh water
shes the only thing that keeps me alive
skin wrinkles but feels the same
techology is scary but
dead in the streets
spotless minds
if you listen real hard to the machines in the streets you can hear a melody
if only they would’ve seen, heard or had been me
if something isn’t used it is useless
this and that matters more than i realize

maybe if we leave it all behind it wont matter
fuzzy fruit
health has turned into a scene where i cant ever feel like i’m not being watched
more. thats all you want
disturbing in a twin peaks sort of way
all birds head south for the winter some farther than others
lets explore this thing together with arms flailing
dont cry dry your eye
stick up kids corrupt cops and crack rocks
mad mad world
come just like the ghost in the mirror that i thought had left me years ago.
the only one in the room who knows how to smile a genuine smile.
welcome to dunder miffline
follows the girl home and waits in the cover of night.
squeezed mangoes under sundrenched trees. why are warm tiles on bare feet the best ever?
like brianna’s knuckle rubs
like a desperate housewife
interested in giving a shit
equations: adverse reaction, shreaded documents: yes please
the one missing person’s case i rmember because it turned out to not be a robbery, suicide, rape or murder. just asleep at the wheel
i couldn’t stop laughing at the sunset after colliding with the heel of an old russian man walking along the boardwalk with his wife.
passionately
like similing and stockings, mine have runs
nothing is
dalmations, i suck spotless
the hottest thing on you tube
but instead i searched the furthest harbor and found a half sunken ship. that’s when i realized that a photo camera and jumping off peirs to swim with the jellyfish below were more important than looking for you.
“film art” and “film theory and criticism” with the exception of my commie idol sergi.
paying attention.
entierly present
my new lassie come home thrift store salvation with the pages cut out.
my russian lover,

is the exact picture that evokes these notions to fufill sensation “x” with asphalt and the landscape passing through the frame of a vehicle at 89mph.
kissing a soldier
crust off the bread. i’ll need it to soak up a stomach full of whiskey. fragmentation of the obvious when there’s a boy involved.
“don’t burry the lead at 5″ and ingredents to employment as a screenwriter.
is the reaction some of my classmates had to the brackage prelude, i was just thinking about what friuts i could buy this time of year to put in a salad.
i realize that i am haunted and it’s fun and games until it isn’t.
a black and white curtian, a freying animal tapestry, a silver pipe, plaster walls with 39 coats of eggshell and dreamland. i just don’t know if the view from here smiles back at me. “apple s”
1949, new york, new york…a complete wikipedia cop out…i don’t have a tv
you’re innocent when you dream (78)
where my 20 year old brother went for spring break. he was 18 or 19 at the time.
his girlfried at the time, nervously clutching her fist over the phone as she admitted to cheating
august 1st…or second or thrid. a phone call and tears that had the ferocity to keep me climbing the dusty mountians of reno that are rumored to be entrapping. somethings still are…as the subtext comes to the surface with an overtly obvious series of words and phrases.
philantropic guilt
compost
do all countries print missing persons on milk cartons?
slipping into the future the walking board sailed to russia
-0-
victim feigned death
imagined riding on the carousel
new pants and shirt shower clean
christmas, easter jesus’ daughter tamar
no, cocker spaniels suck for reasons i won’t go into without your permission
hmmm, britney or barbara bush, i can’t decide
sucked down and down until completely able to breath, now under nevada
many many many many many many movies
hard when you suck down all that sodium fluoride
sorry nothing here
covere in cum and lice and flea eggs
jsut a tool used to scare dupes
long long ago in a dream far far away

i have dreams about her alot but will i ever meet her?
whiskey and it’s relative are really quite harmful to the masses
romans drank sugar of lead by filling lead cups with acid and letting it react, why can’t we?
thinking fruits are the best if you survive
more like hunted, not a game though i am the cat
rubber room and straight jackets hanging in the back of an ambulance
here is new york, planes kill city dead
innocence is a dream in this empire bub
fraternal fuckwads still rule
nothing to be nervous about, that pussy wont bite, pussy teeth are a figment
more than words, perhaps a prediction
is a guise for “trans humanism” warren buffett jr. planned parenthood death squad, hawking would disagree physics dictates
slang for blander machine editor newsspeak
not any more, hundreds of thousands missing sex slaves toddlers poop catch
follow the yellow brick road inter-dimensional reality not fiction
zero plus two equals one cribbage board beats abacus
and got on tv to spread the propoganda
this song sucks
ok i have to work now
the only things that matter are shoes and hair.
tunnelvision
endless endless
why can we only buy coca-cola water in dining halls on campus?
c’est rein.
pumpkinhead
but you’ll never move from where you really are
dreams are distractions for our real conditions of existence
but not harmful enough
puff puff blow
strange fruit
feasants and quail shot through the heart and you’re to blame, you give dinner a bad name
the thought of going back to your parents house

how do you know my grandparents lived on york street and they died. not from planes.
sometimes i wonder if life is too innocent or alternately if it is not.
i like that response but please, do not swear. it hurts my internal organs so.
again, do not profane in my presence. i am failing this test. not of life. but of pizza. and also of things that swim.
a long one in this case because i do not know how to construct proper word patterns
mechanical voice boxes on fetuses behind the old mall with tight booots
exactly what it is that we are constructing
feces like pee like organs like you like this app like what is an app like creative writing. print it.
php to the wizard which command line next
0+ = my grandmas past time
pornographic viewing in hotel inns
a good one, sing to me. i like this song by the beach boys but i forget what it is called sometimes.
a derivative of only kosher most suitable for the small jew sitting next to you
birds trees trapipsing
boring tired shitty sucky unlucky
blank clear nothingness
materialistc matters mean nothing idealy
again blank broken not working
supplie of everything
advertising everywhere its unavoidable yet so rewarding
french movies and language always seems so steamy
breaking breaking broken i will keep going anyway for the sake of my lovers success
be sorry
thinking fantasizing reality life
to your health
cigarettes are evil, they will kill you oh and then there is the ganja
stangers neighbours people
my favorite color is teal, teal is the colour of robins eggs and it is alos the color of the crayola crayon that looks like the colour teal
repsonsible adults
my grandpa is from brooklyn and he was a chemist there
vincent van gogh was an artist
always wear your seatbelt to prevent blunt force injuries and other bodily harm
pizza palace pleasly painting pinafores

you can make lots of pretty paper projects by cutting up multi-coluor construction papaer
preganant ladies should avoid long hours of shopping in the shopping malls if they know whats good for the fetus
just perfect, yup. just like that
thats just really disgusting aka, gross
computers programs are fun, but the code makes me bored
what is that supposed to be a butthole? thats a dumb idea
who wrote this, this entry is for losers who have nothing real to live for and who think only of themselves
when i was little my favorite smell was the scnet of cocoanut and my favorite song was kokomo
doupple repeat redundant
i love to do to jewish delis and eat a corn beef sandwich on rye and a dill pickle and for dessert i get a big black and white cookie
i hope this makes you happy, my lovely love darling dear
i will write forever even if theres only blankness and white to inspire me
you are all the inspiration i need
and ill just keep writing and writing
forever and ever
the world with free rice
its like a car crash. you cant stop looking.
and inquisitive little dog
your hair is like garth’s.
for all those times
nips tucks sucks
maintain a steady flow to the right lobe
ive heard it time and time again. ill believe it when i see it.
hiding out in dark corners
of a tiffany box
for yourself and then some
grains discerning universal tome
partridge speakers lamp macbook pro
who the hell knows?
organic oranges orchestrating operations on ostrich oraphices
paper pens pencils parks
big deal about escalades anyway?
hanging out in my birthday suit

rads dad
me barfy
way to end a sentence.
middle distance runner
hope sucks. stop hoping. start doing.
me to do something creative with this mind
def jam squads
my lady. its like a dream. im holding you close, keeping you warm. its ecstacy.
just because i’m not speaking doesn’t mean nothings going on
you can find it on any street corner
words make me bad things often
i would wait here for you forever if you don’t take too long
no one has it these days
sleepless nights linger till you are silly
only don’t know
cutting split ends means new life
i walked away and now don’t know
is there a such thing?
blood, sex, rivers, yoga
i don’t remember when the words stopped meaning things
don’t be affraid of what you’ve learned
i think we’re alone now
me, myself and i and no one else
i can’t read it, thank god
san francisco, a little room on pik street, moved after the police said i couldn’t stay in the house, then came the curtains
born in anaheim, moved, moved, someplace, then a return sweep to fullerton. my mom used to tell me about the orange groves in her neighborhood. lewis cole mentioned the l.a. orange groves dissapearence as the inspiration behind chinatown.
graph paper, hot coffee a shady hotel room and pure bliss.
dramatic action
birthday is tempting, but hanging is to a noose as…
i don’t throw up anymore but my chracter may says puke. she also says pussy and it’s embarassing.
the fly over zone

what’s the difference between hope, faith, the guest check and a self bought vase of pink carnations. sort of like the day the monument was moved but a little more pink and white. they’re suppose to be red
unimportant
easy to make nasty jokes and harder to fall in love again.
through this device as moris must have when he hung out with famous killers.
ulitza, or ulitsa
mincing
because it’s important to keep the forward motion, the idea, the feeling of falling and swimming at the same time. a big wave is coming.
i, hmmm, a lot.
4:30, fewer and fewer hours when i’m having an afair with this machine, and video as oilpainting.
hope to keep it like that.
i just wasted 42 dollars
a rut from my rotiune to my rotuines…i am really to have a rotiune for a little while. it’s been some time.
that can color balance all the frames of video for me and write this f-ing paper that i think i need to put off until i retire.
family, half moons, truckee
images whitteled down to a direct translation of a blue print like the ones piled in my mom’s office. recently she got some strange shelves to unload the ones rolled up in the corner.
a combination of words that make me retreat to the otherside of the room for a moment, but i’m still sitting here. thank god mr. williams is here to keep me company.
but i have a freind visiting
i, can’t help it, impulsively, i.
words technically mean nothing. ha.
said nothing.
exactly.
and the pack
fuck descartes
one time at naan and curry in the tenderloin a woman threw a chair through the store front window.
the disappearance of everything. real is fake.
michigan hotel rooms
over-rated
too bad ian curtis hanged himself
yummy
-ing is not fun.
torch the monument
relative ennui