Ti-STN

I’m unable to just let this go.

A tennis court of possibilities. Silver blockade. To press against it, is to step back with new squares. I make the fuel box louder as wires are pulled back into confines, clear the exits, man, the mother lode has descended. Red clay, blue bottle saran wrap skies, one bright ball, long stretches of Madden and Harlem, a girl's hand, white rock meadow: a patch where a few trailers sleep.

Let’s penetrate this machine, and ignore the smoke. The smell of your black musk. The taste of a petite household, a house of holdings, of texas hold-ems, of dings and spouses.

I know three’s a charm because I’m always the median. Gravity can bite me.

You’re going to take the book from the shelf and open it; give me a swig, and a puff, and a sip, and a time warp, because excitement rains in small doses. Parallel streets with red bulbs and a broken head light that resembles a chip/memory – all massing and beating in my head. This is no Gothicism.

My eyes meet the candles through black reflection.
Warm cookies and orange.
Knot in my stomach from all the thinking. “Dark soma” “Monster” and crackhouses. Houses.
House is such an important word.

Take me downtown to the little strip with the perfect masculine counterparts.
Night on Bellaire.
Yes, yes, in a small black car and doll tinkles.

Am I this tiny? She thinks I am alone in my room at this hour. You know…you’ve got no Spanish tongue. Only a creamsicle orange-and-pink diary with a lock and frivolous "secrets" stowed inside, about lackluster relationship boys and all about the how-cutes and the outfits and the things in your locker.

///Too bad everything he said was within a dream.>

Difficult to depict the geometry of a dream with random image searches.

Alex Grey

Go here.

Guess who inspired who.

I acknowledge the privilege of being alive in a human body at this moment, endowed with senses, memories, emotions, thoughts, and the space of mind in its wisdom aspect.

It is the prayer of my innermost being to realize my supreme identity in the liberated play of consciousness, the Vast Expanse. Now is the moment, Here is the place of Liberation.

Witness the contents of mind, the visions and sounds, the thoughts, as clouds passing through the vast expanse - the sky-like nature of mind. The rootedness of Being is in emptiness, clarity and awareness: unborn, unspoilt, stainlessly pure.

The infinite vibratory levels, the dimensions of interconnectedness are without end. There is nothing independent. All beings and things are residents in your awareness.

I subject my awareness to the perfection of being, the perfection of wisdom and perfection of love, all of these being co-present in the Vast Expanse. I share this panorama of Being and appreciate all I can share it with...the seamless interweaving of consciousness with each moment.

Create perfection wherever you go with your awareness. That is why this teaching is admired by artists--they sense the correctness of the response to life as creative. Life is infinite creative play. Enjoyment and participation in this creative play is the artists profound joy. We co-author every moment with universal creativity.

To bare our souls is all we ask, to give all we have to life and the beings surrounding us. Here the nature spirits are intense and we appreciate them, make offerings to them--these nature spirits who call us here--sealing our fate with each other, celebrating our love.

I am an intersecting kaleidoscope of Being in a rainbow refractive wave pattern: a corpuscle of light on the ocean...the transparency of my body with the rocks...sometimes the only way to summarize my feelings is to draw--to collapse the frenzy in my limbs enough to make a mark out of profound appreciation for my existence.

Share your presence with others, no boundaries, completely openly lovingly. Love is what makes us alive, that is why we feel so alive when we love. Service is being available to love. Life is the combustion of love. That we love ourselves here, that is the true magnificence in the mountains of being. We are constantly drawing the line between love and not love--enter into the Non-duality Zone, and all judgements dissolve in the Vast Expanse.

It's as though we are co-conspirators of consciousness--everyone, everywhere, everywhen, mixing up our openable minds. It's as though we could gather clouds in the sky and people into our lives. Like an eruption of consciousness, we discover the most important force is love. Experience yourself as the Source and appreciate every moment as perfection. Sunrise--Sunset. Thank you, Thank you, Creator, profound unstoppable connectedness of all beings, pattern to everything, most radical no-thing, the Vast Expanse.

Alex GreyAugust 22,1994

He is a blantant agnostic.

police say it was staged

She handed me a box.

It's wrapped in clear plastic. A pink lotus blossom and the typical Asian luck charm are printed on the front.

Now, a thin, gold taste in my mouth. I can taste the starch. It is papery-sweet. I had Arabic coffee this morning and I couldn't think of an exact opposite of the hard liquid, but I know.

Botan Rice Candy.

As wolves cry

Rice particles

Dissolve

They make thin sheets of the mass

that collect at the bottom

of cola-cans

Tin and sweet

Grains nourish, amber tint, like a shot of

Shot a

Shot a lion in the head

Glued to my teeth.

Ingredients: Glucose, Syrup (Corn Starch, Water), Sweet Rice, Water, Lemon Flavor, FD & C RED NO 40 (Allura RED AC)

written on october 12, 2004. mmm ancient

Mr. Duck Face
Don’t be fearful.

Red eyes and tears no more,
My dear.

Free Right.
Hello, my name is Allan. I am a caterer, and my ideal job is actually a bartender. Right now, I’m preparing fish portions and fried bananas. The water is allover me, it’s leaving beads on my oily torso, I struggle to wipe it off but my mind is focused. Soon I reach the pinnacle and remove the bottle cap. I start sipping cold numbing fluid I bought from that rusted-red Spanish shack, and I take my sizzling masterpiece out of the oven and dab a shard of Oregon sprig to make my mark. She never came to pick up her order.

Hello, my name is Sherry. My mother also thought to name me Victoria but it got lost along the way, like so many other umbrella smiles and purple-octopus-legends, sweetly mismatched (Nothin’ like a secret shack to brighten your day) socks and our Fender picks. A gross of situations concern me, especially Mondays; those are internal and nonexistent, but I must face them, those stern polished deadline boys, frontline shooters, get me while I’m already down. I got married to a cow last night; I don’t want my fish, much less a reception.
I cheated by shooting my female groom. I took her milk and rump and had a festival. You’re all meat to me. Don’t even talk.

ONION BLOSSOM
I’d like to fucking kidnap Wes Bentley.
Eat him. That’s no threat. Perverse.

DUQ
LE DEATH D’PIXIES.

OUG RED
DUQ RED.
(cute duck house. White silhouette.)
Paranormal apparatus
Separate! Serum. Sultry? 10 fucking MI sets of 60 she? Not like me. Is.
False pharmacies. Starving for desperation.
Unsightly. Unsightly book leaves of his pages pages pages
Lifestyle drugs. Drugs. Bolts
And
Wheels.
Wheels.

Hotel suicide
Room on fire
Glowworm scriptures
Honey-sweet marigolds
Clamber c climb aboard
Shimmery
Maiden why must you pout so!
Root canal to my heart
I digress. Digress digress talk here I want comparison pay close attention don’t listen to me for now george’ll be flying this 1
Young girl,
How to calc degrees
Go ahead, make sense of it
Semi-liberal/independent – atheist, practices the craft for lack of spirituality / will cling to it in my latter years as I begin to fear the end
Universe. Time doesn’t exist. I hate gravity too – but I can’t say that, I’ll look a replica
Think. Realized I’m ugly.
Prove it does it suit
Prove prove prove logic
Blind republic/”pagan”/”wiccan”, try one and try two guess they always come down, too
Other wise
Political beliefs
False political beliefs
Political
Politics
Stupid!
Flat line
False false
A whole circle of idiots
Ugly ugly ugly
Take her not me… please do something rash obliterate bell rings, Kenney!
Breńa
Breńa
Tears up. Flat line
Well
Why didn’t you tell me that in the first place?
Concoction of…
Syringe. Brena. Brena.
Stupid Ic fods
I can’t believe you let me walk away
No discussion in psychology
Bitter shunning/snubbing
Cleared hallway, sermons, idiocy
No tap on shoulder, snub, snub.
I suppose I look terrible
More than ever.
Away
You let me walk

disposition

-----

Mention this to me
Mention something, mention anything


Watch the weather change.

tee-hee

You Are a "Don't Tread On Me" Libertarian

You distrust the government, are fiercely independent, and don't belong in either party. Religion and politics should never mix, in your opinion... and you feel opressed by both. You don't want the government to cramp your self made style. Or anyone else's for that matter. You're proud to say that you're pro-choice on absolutely everything!

What political persuasion are you?

ignis fatuus

ig·nis fat·u·us ( P ) Pronunciation Key (gns fch-s)n. pl. ig·nes fat·u·i (gnz fch-)
1. A phosphorescent light that hovers or flits over swampy ground at night, possibly caused by spontaneous combustion of gases emitted by rotting organic matter. Also called friar's lantern, jack-o'-lantern, will-o'-the-wisp, wisp.
2. Something that misleads or deludes; an illusion.

(This is another try at a stolen format. Benj, you are some idol.)

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(Imitation of style. Piece 1.)

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This is one of those janitor’s closets you wish had aesthetic appeal.

It’s anything, save the aesthetic.

I expected nothing of standing between these tight walls; suffocating because of confounds and the objects before me. I expected a call from the girl with the short black hair and the ghost perfume who likes to leave trails down the road for me to follow.

A smell that has a heart shape and a pink flavor.

But no.

I'm spilling over a barrel of a red, transluscent, glue like substance on the floor, potentially letting off some of the circuitry, since there are wires and machinery packed in this place as if it were a hardbacked copy of that 1 million paged diary.

I am participating in a wild collection of data. It all feels short of earthy in my palms. But no realization or slap in the face could halt my motives.

Grabbing a silver flask from my pocket I light a cigarette. I let the sweet niccotine puff out in little white clouds through the parting of my mouth. I notice my lips are dry and wet them. This is no form of concentration. I unscrew the lid as hard as I can without losing my hands.

More fluid pours onto the cheap marble surface (more than likely a no-brand linoleum), the lid smacks the floor like it were a packet of thick plastic. The contents are emitted in bubblewrapped portions.

How sickly.

What's worse is the set of new things I have to deal with.

But, as in any case, orders are orders. I collect the packages, no hesitation, place them into a black box and take polaroids of each individual limb.

Yes, you heard me right, limb. These aren't tree limbs, either. More like human legs and arms. Included as well are four working eyes and fingers and toes.

I close the box and seal the top with some masking tape and question the ethics of the task, but I know I have no choice. The instructions manual finds its way back into a brown paper bag.
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moblog

I'll post the link to mine soon.