i’m the one from the movie
where things turn at the end
and i fall with no one
to care.

everything that seems
justified is in our winded
heads
is torn where our eyes
don’t reach

and we’ll walk along with our faces
even, unified in the stitches
that grace our skins
as if from sleep and dreams.

what is that you tried to say there are two two two colours
in my head.
in my head.

the superbowl champion with four superbowl rings didn’t really say anything we didn’t already know, but he said it pretty well. you’ll tend towards thinking yourself into failure. you’ll tend to thinking yourself to success. you are someone who do you want to be? what would you like to be? you might not even have answers solidified, but is the tension there in your stomach? in your head? in my head.

how many colours are there?

the songs here were introduced to me in the dawn-hour car rides to work, through the north carolina wilderness. they will probably always be associated with sleepiness. and with nervousness. a strange anticipatory anxiety.

everyone i’ve met so far in my year old job i have seen in the last day. just about. there are the fellows i was new with. there are the people from my first job. i was on for three months. jason who shared humour with me for 12 hours per day 7 days per week for 1.5 months straight. e.w. who has snide remarks for newyorkers like me.

walt who i would laugh at for thinking he could get a stripper to go to bed with him. i never thought about having enough money though. choice naivete. see no sex hear no sex speak no sex. and even though he may be the most awkwardly uncoordinated human in a 10 mile radius from here, he can still beat me easily in tennis because i have no skills. or maybe i was too tipsy. queazy.

speak no agendas. that man, that’s not me. i go where i

oh. oh. oh. please not the weight. not the weight.

andrew and his broken english. the trainee who knew so much. everyone laughs at him with him.

my minions in texas from just a few weeks ago.

red from the spring in greensboro, who would always call me big tim, even though i’m not big at all.

treefingers, which typifies the driveway to that job site. long and buried in dark tall oaks. dan who ran over the possum on the way back from a 2am lunch was not there, because he was a subcontractor.

james who had to live with all of my mistakes but still maybe appreciates my sense of direction, who says that he would threaten to quit if he had to go into the office everyday in his offtime, like i do.

i do and i don’t,. i do and i dfon’t i don’t i won’t bbut i do and i do but i cant but i will but i won’t and can’t but do and don’t but can and can and will.

there is no sense most of the time. just perception. only ever perception so where is your perception focused? which illusion do you like best yr living in a fantasy world. yr livin in a fantasy world i’m lost at sea dont bother me i’ve lost my way i’ve lost my way in limbo like everyone like everyone else nose nse nonsense no sense seseeseeseeseee see this your way the only way you can live with does or doesn’t make any sense you ddecide i’ll sleep it off i’ll bury my head in boulders i’ll convince the sea to turn on me.

i’ll bury myself in it to flaunt the flaw. i’ll bring you back to the surface with me, someday. i’ll take you back into where the light could dance, if it would only try,. i would sing but i can give no rhythm. i can spark no movement. i can only sing.

doesn’t have to make sense at all. i can’t and won’t and don’t and couldn’t, anyway.

don’t have to.

(this is really happening happening happening))s)

i can never remember what happens next whether it the improvisation i expected, whether its the smell of worms on the concrete.

and what makes me different maybe in a good way maybe bad but different, is i’m not afraid to push the “post” button right now.

this room is bigger than life. it is bigger than any previous rooms i could ever lay claim to. i am in texas again. i should be used to it by now. but i’m at a resort where bigwigs will drum us up with propoganda and alcohol. i’m at a resort where a dj will be spinning discs out on the shore of this wonderful lake.

but even better than chatting with coworkers i’ve met and coworkers i don’t know and being a social participant and standing in an evening lighted lawn with a plastic cup full of beer looking around myself awkwardly with no one to talk to would be sleeping. sleeping in my huge resort hotel room. because i have not slept since saturday night. or sometime sunday morning. i can’t remember. it could get ugly if i don’t sleep soon. and shave. i checked in right behind the head guy in our division. i was unshaven and droopy looking with ratty shorts and hairy legs and smelly white teeshirt. i kept a low profile for some reason. i guess i’m intimidated.

air ports make me tired and anxious. always anxious, always drifting off. i used to be too uptight to drift off (i wouldn’t call it sleep though. it’s not nearly proficient enough in its qualities to be categorized as sleep. just drifting.) but i’m not anymore. i drift off a lot in planes and at gates. it’s bad though, because when i come to again i always catch myself with my mouth gaping. that’s probably cute.

i’m very tired but also thirsty. i am also far away from any civilization beyond this resort. meaning that i don’t think there are any grocery stores within very many miles where i could purchase bottles of cool or even cold beverage type things to help me out wth my thirstyness problem.

i am so tired.

i’d rather be home. in nice company. even if asleep amidst nice company.

meanwhile, the thunder & rain begins, at a remote resort on a lake deep in the heart of.. the dj is supposed to be spinning records in five minutes. and the coworkers are supposed to be socializing.

it is a very bright thunderstorm though.

in austin on sunday july29, the american analog set and the album leaf will play at emo’s. emo’s does not believe in selling tickets beforehand. just when doors open at 8pm. sitting on a sidewalk in the hot sun might be a part of our futures.

i almost forgot all about hot chocolate.

let’s yes all have some.

i can still smell smoke on my hands. and i can still hear the rumbling of diesel engines in the parking lot.

it was 0330 when there was pounding on my door and i thought they’d give up and go away if i ignored them but they didn’t. and when i could hear a voice on a radio probably on the person’s belt i knew it was a policeman so i thought something was wrong. i only had briefs on and a white teeshirt so i only opened the door a little and he said to get dressed and come outside because there was a fire in the next building.

i immediately thought ‘safety precaution’ because i guess in my comfortable american middleclass mind fires are only on the news. but when i got to the middle of the parking lot i could see a mass of gray smoke being pulled into the sky.

walking to the side of my building i could see the entire roof of the next building giving way to 10 and 20 foot waves of flames. this was the scary part. there were firemen on tall cranes from the trucks below, moving high over the roof pouring down water but it didn’t seem to help at first. i don’t know if everyone who lived there is still alive i hope so.

the policeman said most of the building would be destroyed by the time the fire was out and i think he was right. he was a very calm policeman and his self-confidence shone even in a situation like this, it seemed like. he was chewing gum vigorously through the entire thing.

it took a full hour to get the flames to turn into just smoke. by then i guess the threat of embers hopping to adjacent buildings was low enough where we could go back inside. and before i came back in i walked around to get a better view and the entire roof of the next building over is gone. only the charred fringes line the exterior walls.

priority number one today will be to get renter’s insurance. this is how i got to know my neighbor who just moved in, too. we stood next to each other in the parking lot looking on and said “i need to get renter’s insurance..” “yeah…” “i guess it’s not very expensive..” “yeah…” “i definitely need to get renter’s insurance..” “yeah…”.

if i was the theravada buddhist person that all the online religion tests say i am, then i probably wouldn’t care about all of my possessions. and i don’t care about a lot of them. but my materialistic heart sinks when i think about my hundreds and hundreds of compact discs and my computer and my smashing pumpkins siamese dream vinyl seven inches and my guitar and keyboard i never play and my digital camera and my books including even my college textbooks and my cd players and speakers… all gone. my materialistic heart sinks and i can’t think of a good reason for it not to. especially the music, is too important to me.

i definitely need to get renter’s insurance.

the firemen who had to go inside the burning building would come out and lay down in the parking lot and rinse the smoke from their throats with even more water. and they would lay in the parking lot beside a little stream that sprung from underneath the leaking firetruck to a nearby drain gutter. and fireman axes would lay strewn in the little stream with hardhats and thick yellow fireman coats. and the firemen would cough and spit and rub their blackstained faces.

and all the people in other nearby buildings would take the opportunity to socialize with each other on such an unexpected occasion and then they would walk their dogs and try to stare through the smoke from the holes in the building. and looking into the second floor bedroom window of the building there were intricate patterns in the spotlights from the firetrucks, where the water would stream along the inside of the glass. and it almost looked like the room might be filled with water and maybe it was by then.

my eyes still sting with smoke and there are still the diesel engines rumbling outside. even sitting inside i can hear men clearing their thoats from the smoke as they walk by. i can still hear voices giving their status over the firetruck radios that sound like a PA system. i don’t know if everyone in the next building over is still alive i hope so. i didn’t see or hear anything from any ambulances so maybe that’s a good sign.

–

by six am all of the reporters and cameramen had arrived, even though there wasn’t even much smoke left. there were more than a few news trucks with the transmitter towers. i had to drive my car over all the camera wires. but driving by i could see that the building’s back wall had also been burned away. in addition to the roof. everything between the building’s center stairwell and the outer firewall was charred matter.

today i will get renter’s insurance.

he could almost jump into his peripherals
he almost might as he hears the clamour
of a million ignited conversations
and the truth that will be his tomorrow
his escape is always falling
through his fingers
unsensed, he never knows
when he is led through
and safe for a while
in circles deep in space or time
always deep or far away
and anywhere but right here&now.

he remembers the first night
he may have ever listened
and heard crickets from beyond
the still, moon-glared window
the rays becoming a heavenly ember
in his frozen wondering eyes
and he paired the sound of crickets
with thoughts that were infinite
and thoughts that brought him
back to where they began

and inside his favorite walls
there is a neverdying light
but the room is too dark
just before he sleeps he swears
he can almost see her ghost
.

Disorder Rating
–
Paranoid: Low
Schizoid: Moderate
Schizotypal: High
Antisocial: Low
Borderline: Low
Histrionic: Moderate
Narcissistic: Moderate
Avoidant: High
Dependent: Moderate
Obsessive-Compulsive: High

of course i was surprised to find out that bardo pond has, on their website, an mp3 of one of their songs called “tommy gun angel”, performed with mogwai at the 9:30 club in washington dc on 6.22.2001.

the 9:30 club in washington dc on 6.22.2001 happens to correspond with my times and places.

i remember we smiled and gave cheeky looks to each other as mogwai joined the openers on stage. we laughed as we noticed the mogwai guy in his evil stocking cap. we stared intently as they poked and prodded at the guitars and microphones and drumkits.

we held on for our dear dear lives as they began to play.

at once a sonic wind caused our shirts to ripple. we were right up against the stage. at one point i may have been gripping it with my fingers and hanging on with my toes flailing behind me in a very horizontal chaos. i dunno it’s all a blur.

luckily we had gotten the earplugs beforehand.

of course this mp3 isn’t very familiar to me, because the only things i could hear were the four loudest machinegun guitar chords that have ever been, and some seemingly distant drumming through the din.

there were no vocals or crisp sounds in my version. only sheer violent crumbly noise destroying everything in its path. four growling demons in large warbling metal containers.

the “scottish guitar army”, as she called it.

i guess it didn’t help that we were right in front of the guitar amps.

this was a nice find though. congratulations.

good girls who pack diligently and come home as soon as they can just might find half a pan of yum on their hands.