an ideal conversation with my mother (a completely once sided conversation)

fuck off I am in constant pain

in rainbows

Hes older, already dating some one. Younger, 19 not much of a looker, bit of a junky but the boy suits his needs. Sleeping and such a heavy sleep, a guiltless heavy unconscious. I hardly know this man but I've watched him wake up with the word "no" on his lips. That's a lie, I served as the intermediary for the no and my imagination ran away from me. That's part isn't interesting though, that was a drunken mess and I kept my distance. My drunken messes are more interesting less monomaniacal and either more or less melodramatic. But I'm blowing my own horn now when I should be talking about this man. 36 and a reformed hippy, NA, sober now but the boy drinks, the boy drugs himself, the boy was turned down as a dancer because he's too fat. his hair is too poorly taken care of. I'm trying to write without disdain, but I have such mixed emotions about this couple. Fascinating really, the sex is fascinating, their union is fascinating and completely neurotic. I wonder what it would be like for me to get with the older guy, he's kinda pretty. I wonder what it would be like for him, I wonder what it would mean for him to rid of that boy for me, older, smarter, better balanced. I wonder what it would mean for him to keep the boy and have me on the side.

I can't stop thinking about sex, the entire time that I'm writing this I swear I'm not thinking about them at all, just the people I have sex with and what it means to me.

I just got beat up by three jersey chicks. Or hate crimes waiting to happeb

for mouthing off and being a fag. in my mind it was mostly fer being a fagin their minds it was probably for mouting off and then throwing puncrs after I got decked but wtf all I said was fuck you fuck off when they denied me a cig. Im trying to give the facts of the matter as straight as I possibly can. I talked some shit but every one talks shit, I tried to fight back after I got knocked down maybe I called them bitches but seriously my face is fucked and I feel like this is a little more then a normal altercation especially when after they drive away the rest of the people outside come up to me with a genuine concern for my well being.

being gay in the alb sucks and every one knows it. Ny only recourse is to make sure there are always cops on that corner and any of my friends stay away from bogies for the next month where crack hicause not only is uptown due for a raid but that plave is gonna be hit hard. fuck all them I wanna walk home without fear. fuck them all straight edge or not that place is a haven of homophobes and I have never felt safe going by there.

I feel safer in the fucking ghetto then I do in my own neighborhood... whatever this is one time where crack house laws are going to work in my favor

How one falls in love with a tape worm and how one gets a tape worm in the first place

me and my tape worm are very close, he's such a great listener, I don't care if my tapeworm eats all of my food, wont get a job and keeps fucking up my house, he's so damned cute and he keeps me skinny, I love the pale and hollow glow of anemia, my tapeworm is my provider.

In my long and wondrous journey to the utopian state of health this is the state of mind I find most repulsive, the most deluded. The self hatred that should come with having a parasite I can look past. I find this metaphor particularly disturbing because for a long time I was having dreams about worms and there's one I still feel vividly. I'm not going to give an entire description but it suffices to say that in the dream I gave birth through my thigh to the father of my sickness.

dionysus gives traumatic birth to the seed of his own destruction by nicking the artery running along his left wrist, wrapping the head of his father around a wooden match coiling him. his foul offspring, the result of an incautious fling with the river spirits in the nile.

God fuck the bastards who took the imagery, metaphor and theater out of mental health. They are puritanical misanthropes with their heads stuck up the ass of science, their humanity constantly shat upon by reason.

winged victory

ah the fallen in the heat of action, that ragtime verse how elegant and intelligent. a prayer for the dead or the best I can manage because it's five AM and I'm trying to remember you. but I can probably recall all of your faces, and of course I can but it's a shame to have to say that, it's a shame to have to think about it because of course I can because it's the curse of the wet brained to remember those faces. the hurt the fallen and the discarded and the ones who have to put up with the lushing and the puking and the ones who told you no or to say no.

all those infractions are horrific trespassers.

control you are my faithful lover

hey ass hole stop acting like a jerk when the cameras are off and you think no one can hear you! clap hands say yeah really kinda sucks and you only like those people because you like sketchy music and they don't! and let me please point out that you're not invited to that part, because aside from the fact that you don't want to go it costs too much, they really don't appreciate dudes who show up wasted. So just cut the shit stay home and do what you want, you know that's what you want to do any way,


btw this is why god invented cock

cock rocks

so I'm gonna hang out with the pheasentry and feel better about being a ground fowl

in case it wasn't clear show me yer underwear and I'll feel better

Coke is lame video is the new coke

totally video moment; an old black lady puting some unnameable substance in her nose followed by static and broken signal. I think this is the first time I've seen a vhs to digital transfer and I'm very impressed. the contrast is terrible, the color is all wrong and it's constantly cutting out. So yeah I like it.

In other news I got into a Power Wheels accident last night and I broke my ass.

I'm hungry and there's nothing for me to put mayo on in the house so it's pain killers and coffee.

"Yes the night IS good"

That power wheels accident might need some explanation. The O'Brien and I met up with an old friend of ours for drinks and the music really sucked at Suzie's, it was all irish punk nonsense. So we finished our drinks and head for another bar, a place with 2 dollar pabst that didn't burn down recently. any way, there was a powerwheels in the trash outside of a house so we get to the bar in style with our high powered barbie car. drink a little bit there and decide that really the best thing to do with the rest of the night was get a 40 and cruise around town. We picked up a hitchhiker on lark, but before she got in she made us promise that we wouldn't break her vagina cause her girlfriend would kill her. She got off at around jay street, adjusted her pants and hobbled away. More booze and then the capitol race course... which is where I broke my ass taking the car down a circular slide.

It rocked