hey, this is a legitimate cry for help! fuckers! call me! insist of me my best! for i dawdle and sit far too long now! what are we doing? honestly! you all say follow your bliss, bullshit! ignorant of the pain we would follow our bliss! the cycle of life is two-fold, fools! my arms are numb on the computer right now. i smoked two joints and didn’t eat. fuck you for thinking that makes any difference at all. the mind is static. the interface is what shifts. only the outsider is confused. which leaves me with a sence of indifference towards whether or not anything is gained from the reading of this entry. where does it enter? how cliche! into your minds? i dunno. i can’t tell anymore. what does it matter? i’m still the same person with or without a beard. no matter what i do during the day at any point in my life, when the lights go out and i’m scared again, it’s the four year old everytime. so why does it matter? i care little for my appearance now. even less as my apathy grows. apathy? no, i really don’t think that’s right. it’s like the way you just ignore things that don’t matter in the day, and you let all the beautiful things fill in the cracks where your thoughts should have been, but you murdered them for the cause! because i murdered my thoughts a long time ago. i didn’t think i liked how i thought that thinking was going to get me anywhere. i don’t know. but i’m not going to think about it anymore. there’s thinking that’s needed, and then none, really. i dunno. but i’m done thinking.
so what then? what are we doing? sitting around thinking about what we should be doing? not rory! oh no! he’s actually somewhere else. whatever that is, but it’s something i’m not. and ryan donaldson, he’s made a book! i dunno what that’s like, but i’m sure i haven’t done it. and ryan glenn! he’s constantly trying to get going! what?! i dunno, but i’m not! mike! he’s making music with other people and growing! whoa! i didn’t think of that! damn! you guys are kicking my ass, and you’re not even doing that much, when it comes down to it.
so what.
this is a legitimate cry for help, fuckers. i formally request you kick some sence into me.
ben.
“ i’m going so extreme right now, i don’t even give a shit
jeffery shwartz
apparently there is a picture of darth vader floating around that looks suspiciously like ryan glenn’s penis.
discuss.
i want to say something about ryan glenn.
he is a fucker.
what the fuck. i slept most of the daylight away. woke up part of the way through to vomit whatever it was that needed vomiting out, out. when i was done hugging the toilet i pulled back the blinds to see a grey sky and noticed it was raining like, fucking awesome. after that it was a sleep-a-thon, smoked a bowl and passed out. problem is i forgot to do a couple of things. like laundry? fuck it whatever. who do i have to impress?
mike can spin forever on his skateboard now. i never appreciated the stupid kids on skateboards when i was younger/older…. never saw it as something nice to do. it’s funny! i swear, there is actually something pretty in badly lit loading docks and shit! sweating in the cold is enjoyable. we make a lot of noise. it’s still wet from the rain today. but not cold enough to see our breath.
i feel like there’s more that i should be doing. but sleep! oh sleep! what would i do if it weren’t for sleep? i know i don’t remember my dreams, but i’m having them right? rainy days are for sleep. but normally i think the accepted manner is sleeping with someone. so… fuck, i mean, whatever, mind as well just sleep then. my lack of activity is my own problem. i set myself up this way. i don’t subscribe to certain widely accepted ideals and schools of thought. and it puts me in some weird places. like with days off, and responsibility. and those weird things.
what should i be doing? i read. i write. a lot. i make music. i work. i don’t waste much of my time. i think. i think so much. i think more than i think i should. hahahaha, come on, i’m serious! there’s so much in the world right now that doesn’t even deserve to exist. how many of you would be fine with just living in the woods alone for the rest of your lives?
and if not, why not?
what do we really need? how much of what we think we need have we just decided we need? do we need amps and video cameras, and tvs, and cinema screens and drums and books?
i don’t know. if i did i think i’d be somewhere else.
i’ve also been smoking since i woke up, which means i’ve prolly got about 10 or 11 bowls in my lungs.
accountablity goes out the window around then, you know?
umbrella plus you
plus me makes three and though it
will rain dry are we
“ I will not fear
Fear is the mindkiller,
Fear is the little death
That brings total Oblivion
I will permit my fear to pass
Over me and through me
And where it has gone
I will turn the inner eye
Nothing will be there
Only I will remain.
i shouldn’t even have to say
so today i was sitting down and smoking a bowl at work. totally normal day. and i start like, hacking up these nasty fucking spitwads. and like, the last one, the nastiest one, when it’s all airborne and spinning sending little spittle drops everywhere on it’s way from my throat to the fucking floor, shines this very strong red hue.
and i’m thinking like, fuck.
so i go and check it out. yeah, blood in my phlegm. not fucking good. i freak out. i freak out, like, oh shit. of course like, i just sit there and go cold. not like, ryan glenn freak out pacing around and shit looking it up on the internet. but like, just silently thinking some really shitty things to myself.
i get up, walk back inside, do a couple things and i walk by the bathroom and get an idea. i’m thinking to myself, please god let this be a fucking bloody nose that just dripped down into my throat, please.
i blow my nose, fucking blood everywhere. gross as fuck, but not blood in the lungs.
the rest of the day has kind of been just so-so after that. i think i’m going to just quit smoking cigarettes finally. after getting that scared, i think it’s like, you gotta.
