i’ve been knockin’ on that door in my sleep

alela diane’s “the rifle” is, quite simply, a song i could listen to on loop for a day or two straight and not get tired of it.

the Creative Commons license, mark twain, and SCO- oh my!

i just read an interesting article on ars technica. it talks of how mark twain/samuel clemens supported copyright, but not for the reasons you’d think.

full moon

it’s a full moon, again. i can feel it happening- the fur growing, the fangs extending, the eyes turning to slits.

a long, loud, sweet howl escapes my lips (over the tongue, through the gums- watch out, woman, here i come) and i am arching my back in the pale moonlight of photos.

“psychedelic latex is never aesthetic sculpture;”

(“magnetic poetry #1″ – cathartic love letters, brent saner)

so!

i finished the most recent update to my portfolio. 13 new pieces! and i fixed a WHOLE crap load of typos/spelling mistakes in other pieces.

you can read it here: cathartic love letters (143 pages, 187 pieces)
(a list of new pieces are on the changelog)

here’s a highlight of my favourites from this update: the “thursday night alone” series (foul language. be warned.)

“…it’s hard to die when all the birds are singing in the sky…”

(“Seasons in the Sun” – Terry Jacks)

mountains and valleys and piles of books lay on my carpet like a swamp, all just to keep up in school and learn things about the economy i never wished to learn and it gets boring taking a class when you already can excel at the discussions related to it but it’s been a lovely day; the sun was bright and the weather was perfect and i drove with my windows down and smoked my pipe like a wise old sage, and i came home to my mountain of books and i ignored them so i can read my treasure chest. sleep is a habit inescapable and it’s supposed to rain today but i’ll still keep my windows open. and N, she still gets sick in the mornings with sadness, i bet, and takes medication which is comparable to taking cyanide for a rough cough cough, it’s so dry in here N, why is it dry, are you okay? no, not really, but neither are you. no, i am, promise, it’s a nice day out and i’m feeling swell. it’s not fair, then- black and white are more perfect than shades of grey you may think that N but you’re wrong. you look a little pale N are you okay no she says i’m not and proceeds to pull swords from her tongue as if a sword-swallower in reverse stop-motion, it’s all jerky and it hurts my heart to watch and it’s a little creepy but what can you do, it’s one of your favourite clips. please get better N i’ll say when i leave and she says that she won’t, but i’m no better either but i’m out the door before i hear her.

fluorescent neon buzz

the volume only goes so high but it gets drowned out by the clickBUZZZZhmmmmmnnnnnnnnnnclickhmmmmmmnnnnnnnn of the light above the stove and that can’t be healthy for me or my electric bill or the environment although supposedly fluorescent lights are very clean and not very dirty dirty boy, sit in the corner. but what did i DO you didn’t do anything, that’s the problem but how can i do something wrong if i didn’t do anything. i’m on autopilot, i fear; the planes come soaring like sick strawberry fields and sugarbombing me with hunger in the middle of the morning before i’d prefer to wake up dead alone stone-cold and my bed although warm is lonely and nothing can warm the cold heart except love and what can love you when you are not loved? what can you hide so deep that is not able to be seen or heard or felt by strangers and lovers alike, chefs take your heart to town and serve it up on a platter “look at MY masterpiece! nevermind the one it came from, i was the one that served it to you!” so who do we thank for a good steak- the one who grills or the one who grew? i must begin to plant gravemarkers for cattle and lay flowers in thanks like my Lenape ancestors. i am not vegan or vegetarian, but who says you shouldn’t thank your food? we take so many things for granted- for some people, their cattle is their life. this is beginning to look like filler lorem ipsum lorem ipsum lorem is some kind of mess but OH NO i broke the fourth wall, the fourth wall between you and i and i know it’s all a joke; that’s why i’m simply mad and off my rocker, you see, it’s because it’s all a joke. sanity is in the eye of the beholder- there is no beholder, everyone is insane- straightjackets are quite a friend indeed in need and that is why i will not take sugar in my tea or in my hand or in my words because i’m sweet enough already; i need salt and i need light and i need earth because i’m losing ground and i’m fighting but you can’t win! not with that attitude young man back in the corner and i’m sorry, no more wire hangers i promise. will true love find me in the end or will i end up cold and alone like i wake every morning, will i have faith or will i keep being stuck in the same old rut of annoyance, who knows. the light above my oven isn’t saying anything except humming along his own beeswax. i wasted so many hours the past few days doing who knows what and i am a waste and i cannot find a job because i’m either overqualified or underqualified or it’s customer service and customer service will kill you- that’s how i know i’m not suicidal, i refuse to take a job of customer service. the customer is NOT always right and they deserve to know that, i will not bend over and grab my ankles “yes sir! why don’t you use that streetlamp, i’m sure that’d be much more painful” no way, not me, i want to fix people- it’s how we’ll fix other problems- and you can’t fix people by lying to them and telling them they’re right when they aren’t or let you walk all over you. “you corrected a customer? GET IN THE CORNER” yessir massa’ johnson, oh, i sorry, i never gon’ do it ‘gain massa’, please don’t whip me. and all the light has to offer is clickbuzzhmmmmmmNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN