After much mixblock, I have nailed one! Yes!

Last night, I made a mix cd. I stayed up late, in my computer deskchair and trapped in headphones, and sifted through only my most obscure items. (Three and a half tiers down, at least!)

Most of the songs were found beneath old boulders or within the remains of burnt-down Amish barns. Most of the time, they were covered with dirt and millipedes.

However, I took the time to wash them off, and I put them together, and then here it is. Wow.

I’m not going to make a whole bunch of CD’s and mail them all over the planet, this time. You probably wouldn’t like this, anyway. BUT, I did start to feel guilty, so I put it on my domain. You can download all of it, if you want. It’ll be like a farewell gift, because I’m going away, and I won’t be back. Until later.

Don’t (or do) tell anybody, but it is here.

Just don’t rat on me, when the law comes knocking ?

Hopefully you do okay, if you try downloading it. I hope it works out. I hope so.

Man, that one was fun, I’ll tell you what. It was a rush. Haha.

I feign things, every now and then, but it’s still genuine, just in a different way.

Your friend,
-Tim.

sparser than i thought..

Still, the coolest thing about snow is, is how it deadens all sound. Everything is muted except the wind.

You never realize how noisy the world must be until there is a coating of snow on the ground, and suddenly there is nothing to hear.

Did I ever tell about January 1995, and the thick snow and the frozen creek and Knowlesville at night, more silent than a post-apocalypse, except the wind and the far-off humming of high-pressure sodium-yellow streetlights on Presbyterian Street?

No, of course I didn’t.

From time to time, still thinks back on some things. Moments are the makers of definitions, I guess.

So. I drove to work anyway, as a show of revolt against three measley inches of white panic. There’s nothing to do here. Bob the sales man is the only other person in the office.

Streets are not salted. Virginians apparently do not like to throw a lot of salt around, which is a shame, because it makes things so much easier.

I saw a band called My Morning Jacket on Saturday. They are phenomenal and brilliant, but somehow I keep thinking that I was feeling distracted. My full attention was not there, and so the moment suffered. I don’t know what happened. Jim James does not have a face, only a nose peeking through a cylinder of hair. (A lot like Captain Caveman, actually..) And a gorgeous voice comes out of that tuft. Who’d've thought? And how talented they are. And all of the songs Do sound familiar, somehow, it’s true. And a majesty to them. The new southern rock, I hope.

And yesterday, with the first of the snow falling, I bought myself a decent guitar, and I kept it in standard tuning, and I sat down and memorized C, E, A, Am, D, B, F, Em, and of course G. I can play any one you choose. Try me! It was easy. I should’ve have tried at least once in the last 8 years, but I didn’t. At this rate, in two weeks I will know 126 chords from memory, and I will skip between them randily. Readily, mightily. It is a good thing to have a quality guitar that is not a K for Kay. Even though there is no doubt that the K is holy, and will be touted with its unique throat until the end of days.

I will drink one more cup of coffee, and then I will think about driving back home, where ceramic heaters and minor chords beckon.

l8r,

Today (and maybe only today), I decided that I was too excrutiatingly hot to resist a self-wrought photo shoot for possible submission to ‘Men’s Journal’ or other fine and classy publications utilizing prime male specimens.

It would be a goddamn shame not to flaunt this fine, fine piece of ass.

Shouldn’t you be in next week’s Target flyer, you juggernaut of fashion?!

Ummm, can anyone say “Heartthrob alert!” ?

You can wash my dishes anytime, Harry Potter!

– drrrbd cloe.

— The elderly like nice, woolly sweaters on their grandchildren, and most probably, they like nice, woolly sweaters in general.

— Wool comes from sheep, and its closest sibling is ‘wood’, which comes from trees. We should be thankful for both sheep and trees (which, incidentally, both contain double e’s), and especially thankful should be the elderly.

— ‘There is no safe haven in these parts!’ I thought was a quote I was remembering from some movie or other, but now I think that it just came to me from nowhere and for no good reason.

— Stick thy stickly.

— The #1 smash “Where It’s At” was supposed to be a question.

This has been a silly waste of time. I thank you,

I had a dream last week which is mentionable only because it must have been memorable, since it’s the only one I’ve retained bits and pieces of in many months. I got married in the dream, and we hated each other, and everything about it was miserable, but we got married anyway.

At one point, someone gave me a paintball gun, and I took out my frustrations on reception guests, leaping over tables while shooting people in the shoulderblades, and doing commando rolls in my tuxedo. I think it had tails, also.

The part where it gets weird is, I took a little adventure midway through the reception. It was winter and it was snowing. I was walking barefoot along the shore of the ocean or a great lake. It was evening and very gray. There was a pick-up truck parked in a forest alongside the lake, and there was a frozen baby girl in the passenger seat. She was frozen solid, frozen in a calm sitting position, except her eyes could move around. She was a magical something or other. Maybe an angel trapped in a frozen baby girl’s body. I remember opening the truck door and lifting her out and the flesh was hard as ice. Frozen solid, except for the eyes.

It creeped me out, once I woke up.

I can’t remember anything else, though.

Footnotes gone un-used:

1. A rejuvenated fascination with the progrock. A whole second and third under-tier of the progrock that I had not delved, I shall now delve. If I am to be blacklisted, then by all means, blacklist me.

2. Only one coca-cola in the last week plus. Okay, maybe two or three. But still, a drastic and unexpected decrease in soda consumption, it is surprising that I get any fluids at all.

3. Warm homes and pajama pants.

4. When I shut up, I listen.

5. Contentedness and peace of mind are invisible sine waves. Watch out! You may not realize that they’re not really there, after all! (And once you do, they’ll be on their way back.)

6. Come back, FDR. We will settle for ghosts. Modern leadership is a fucking sham.

7. Dust is old skins, mostly.

{natas_fd} was one who is out of the blue!

[natas_fd] si tu savais comme je te chie dans la bouche !
[natas_fd] espece de sous merde
[natas_fd] creve
[Tim (via Babelfish)] ne regardez pas maintenant mais mes cuillères volent !
[Tim (via Babelfish)] que savez-vous ? pourquoi chierions-nous dans ma bouche ?
[natas_fd] vas mourrir stp
[natas_fd] teject et non respect donc je fait de meme
[Tim (via Babelfish)] je suis Mars et mes cris perçants vous atteindront un jour

Inferiority is more complex than you can imagine.

Someone Must Repair My Circuitboard!

Now taking applications from Masters & Lords of Soldering Wee Pieces Together Again, And Within Very Tight Spots.

Thank you Your friend,-Tim.

I will have the great advantage of sleeping tonight with the windows open. Fresh air emanating from either side of my bed. Low-to-mid 60′s. It is January the 4th. This is an unexpected surprise.

Imperceptibly free air. Still, cool and quiet. An all-enveloping soul without the colour or burdens of an aura.

Breezes are for moving our window curtains. To and fro.

Window curtains and weary little minds like mine.