To update the unpresent unpresentables, I have been living back in America since October, 2005. Flew back halloween into the dismal vacuum of JFK airport, knowing this change might be for the worse. I am now living in Tucson, Arizona, for better or worse, worse it seems, this city is exactly the example of America I wanted to advoid. I don't know what to say. Shit.

Ah, yes, yes, the friendless life is back again. I rush home from my job (until yesterday), craving the lonliness and mass dosages of distractions. Propiety is rampant everywhere, and so it has inflicted me with the same disease, chained and hopping around blind.

But, I am happy with my new mac notebook. Could be too nice sometimes, damn shame.

My goal is to get out of here, out of HERE, it's HERE, please run, oh my god, run, it's here, where?, here, HERE, out of here, it's Here, run quick, please, please run, but not forwards, no, here, out of HERE, run not forwards, out of HERE, here, it is here, right now, so run backwards, please run, please, run backwards, innwards, out of HERE, through the core, backwards, please, run please, out of here, cause it's here.....OR MAYBE IT IS NOT HERE! EVER THINK ABOUT THAT! JESUS MARY HALLELUJAH.

this had to have been my most inane post.


xero blogged on 8/11/2006 07:22:00 AM


.

It's really something special to be able to look up at the stars and to see straight into space. All the stars appear so perfect, nothing penetrating my mind that they are at different distances. Everything seems perfect, just right, in the way that god Does have a plan. And to say the least, i am amazed with the choices of reality and the ability to be able to walk either alone or with a companion down any path I choose. Right, left, straight, it all leads somewhere, and that place I want to be remembered as an unknown organism, starving and thawed until I arrive. Please, all humans, just relax for a second and consider why you choose these certain paths. Nobody wants to suffer.


xero blogged on 8/06/2006 07:50:00 AM


.

But really, when all that has been said comes to pass, the last man standing will be the one holding a pretzel and a coke in their hands as the sound of their munching and slurping drowns out the sickening sound of this hollowed earth, this nightmarish dementia. Yeah, I've got a handful of sand in my pocket, and what does that mean when it will all eventually sliver through the hole in the fabric caused by worrisome boredom as I stand outside the store, THE store, the one with half naked ladies laughing at you from the glass walls. They laugh because they are prisoned in a frame, a piece of fucking wood, or some composition that the Chinese use to save us money and so they can be more abusive to their own people. They are laughing at us margarita!! They laugh cause they know the truth, they see that every step any of us take, any breath we inhale, will have some dire unforseen effect and there is nothing we can do about it. The sand that drips from my pocket kills all that build their houses with hay and mud.

To be so adjacent to everything, our necks all break off, like a duck getting it's head blown off. We fly spinning and flipping, flopping and moaning, tearing and swearing through jove's deep thick shit, gasping and pulling, red, blue and yellow. Feels mighty good to be alive again, but not in this place, the ever combustiable smokehouse. Feels mighty good to be alive again. Yep. Yep.


xero blogged on 8/05/2006 06:23:00 AM


.