Maybe it's because I'm the kind of sick where my teeth hurt, but I feel like everything I am doing is wrong all of the time. I'm not happy right now. I have been feeling more alone than I had in a while; more introverted. I am adjusting. Still, sometimes when I believe one hundred percent for sure in things, and something happens differently than I expected, I feel no confidence in myself at all. I just really feel alone in a weird way that makes me keep washing my hands and I don't know why. They just feel sticky and dirty every second for the past week. I keep washing them. And picking at my skin. And thinking nothing to myself. And crying and crying like the dog keeps crying because neither of us knows what we need but we're anxious and we feel alone.

I just want to be laying on the floor giggling and giggling and giving a light show for the boys and I want to just be in the car with my best friend or searching the car with a flashlight or five candles our heads on your shoulders. But I don't have a best friend. There is nothing to giggle about. There is the sound of my fan - a little crunchy, a little buzzy. Not what I had hoped it would sound like, I guess.

Mean things we said to each other today:

"Get your fat ass up and let's go."

"I ate too much, I'm fat again, and I need to change"
"I know you do - into something less slutty"

"I'm glad you were never my boyfriend; you're gross!"

All the times I have almost broken an almost one hundred year old instrument, is it all really going to happen?

Is some of it going to happen? All of the very best things, as intensely and the most filled with magic as is possible?

I have this overwhelming sensation that all of my hopes will become moments and movements.

I am a little exhausted still today, but I can feel that already moving behind me. I am already so surprised to have travelled to the future so quickly and efficiently.

I must remember that we are living the part of our journey where everything is new every day, exciting every day, magic, refreshing, inspiring, your-toes-on-my-toes-making-my-eyes-water every day. The bad part - the unsure part, the awkward part, the heartbroken, dishonest, sad, I'm-still-searching-for-something-I-know-can't-be-found part happened before this. And as everything, it must come to an end - which we already experienced before the sad part, and made it all the way through, every day of our lives before it. Every day, all the way back to before we met. So for the rest of our days, we only have the magic to live. For the rest of our days, all the way back before we meet again.

Hopefully this way of looking at my life will prove infectious, affecting the arrangement of very many things' progression.

I want to listen to Eyehategod. I want to listen to the Rotary Connection.

Music I love every day forever from now on.

Making sure they know I love them. Knowing I could die happy tomorrow.

Controlling your ADD; preserving your guilelessness; developing your consciousness - semantics

I believe in everything fully for the first time.

Sons and daughters,
we scribbled just about anything down in our moleskins and composition books because we had to let the feeling out. I hope that you still have diaries, ones with keys, by the time you need them (I will never ever read them). We called because we had a conflict to resolve, we had a huge secret to tell, we had to find out as much information we could, we needed directions, we needed direction, I mean we exclusively called when we needed directions, we knew our friends' phone numbers. When we needed to express something, we didn't publicize it for every friend we've ever known, or for any person on the planet to have as much right to our expression of those things as ourselves. And no matter how it was publicized, it was expected to be worthy of the audience's attention (a span which has become too short for this paragraph). The technology we have been given is used more by my peers (as a majority) for sharing basic prose with the networks they have created - or maybe brief glimpses of our streams of consciousness - rather than influencing each other with our own mighty thoughts and ideas. No matter how reasonable, everything that takes more than a few moments, a single take, the shortest short-cut, is an inconvenience to ourselves, or, if not, to others. My friends who write well - when? I hope you have the patience to put it somewhere at all. Sons and daughters, what will amount to anything for you? Will you be born into western society impatient? Imperturbable? What lengths will you be willing to go? How will you be?

How will I be?

De Bye, c. 1660

I see where it started to crumble. If my cell phone was replaced by an older land line miraculously in the night, I wouldn't know how to call the first person I think about when I wake up. I now see that we are in a constant state of communication - it is easier than I could ever have wanted. "Hey, it's me. I'm actually going to be there in five minutes instead of two."

To those who really feel me,
My feelings about art and technology are always intertwined. I see so much having to do and say one million things half-way; it is sticking out a lot to me. So in spite of everything I come across that is concept-rich and well-intended, I feel more partial to art and music that is most impassioned, and in tie, scrupulous. I think that I know some of the most important souls in my culture, and that we all have the gifts to rise a generation's level of consciousness, or at least to birth an identifiable aesthetic. I hope we do the things we need so as to make this happen, and I suspect the destruction of our networks of insentient communication will come sooner than we expect. I feel, though viable in its potential, the rebellion will need more than a defiant appreciation for DIY and analog - fueled by angst, pretension, or most fruitlessly, nostalgia - for the real change to come. Of course DIY, but let's all Do It Ourselves With All of Our Soul to the Best of Our Abilities.

I intend to spend my days contributing all of the positive energy in my universe, that I am allowed to borrow, to the rest of the indigo children, may they believe in themselves and what we are to achieve with one another's participation.

I hate what my universe is right now. All the energies that extend from me to the rest of it. I don't want to talk to these people or do any of these things. I want the light to reside somewhere besides my own house. I want it out of my eyes. I want none of this. I want none of these senses. It is all 'I' because no one else should ever feel this way. I had horrible nightmares. I can't even bear to open my mouth and I want to share nothing. It's all nightmares.

There is trying to prove yourself
and there is escaping trying to prove yourself
and there is trying to prove something else
and that's all there is

I am trying to prove you are more than that to me

I want to capture certain sensations when I am singing a song I made. Deja vu, depersonalization, jamais vu, my elusive precognition, a friend's clairvoyance, the single sensation of all senses of heightened reality - that intense realization of the weight, meaning, and existence of what is happening to you. What words are there for these things but 'I feel, I feel, I feel,'?

I DOUBLE DOG DARE YOU

I DOUBLE DOG DARE YOU:

1. TO WATCH 60'S FASHION PROGRAMMING CLIPS ON YOUTUBE MIXED WITH 60'S/70'S ELECTRONIC MUSIC
.. AND NOT WATCH IT FOREVER
2. TO GROW A SUNFLOWER
.. AND THEN CUT IT DOWN
3. FEEL SO GOOD
.. AND FEEL IT FOR HOWEVER LONG; THIS ONE'S EASY



I DOUBLE DOG DARE MYSELF TO GET THE WORDS "THE ENCHANTMENT PT. ONE" TATTOOED ON MY BODY - WHY - I DON'T KNOW WHERE THOSE WORDS ARE FROM

THE WAY IN WHICH I LOVE JAZZ AND CLASSICAL MUSIC IS UNIMPORTANT
OR MAYBE IT'S LUCKY
BUT WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO SAY
I LIKE IT SOMETIMES, BECAUSE IT SOUNDS LIKE HOW I FEEL AT THAT TIME
IT'S NOT LIKE IT'S GOING TO MAKE ME MIRACULOUSLY NOT STUPID ABOUT SOMETHING
I'M NOT EVEN DEFENDING MYSELF AGAINST ANYTHING
LIKE WHY IS THIS WHAT I'M THINKING

I've already met all of the people I want to know for the rest of my life. What are the chances that they will all live in the same place in the end? I mean, I guess they are fifty fifty - it will happen or it won't - and that's pretty good, right?



But still I suppose I always meet a new freak.

The world makes a lot of people afraid or guilty of expressing their love, and I am one of them.



Fiber optics, a podcast, friends sharing and staying connected, mail, music done right, a clean room, a weird room, my records and books, an empty house

This is what I have to work with. Hopefully I will be productive in a manner which my loved ones will be proud of, though I am just trying to cover up how awfully isolated I feel here. Which is good.



A lot of things are happening in my creative brain, but I still think about running my bike into traffic on purpose sometimes, when I don't know what to do with the love I cannot appropriately express.

Color my life with the chaos of trouble, 'cause anything's better than posh isolation

If I had to say something to everyone, I couldn't


Maybe I'd say, For my next birthday, I'd like my eyes to pixelate in a country where no one on the street is speaking English.







I want to be surrounded by people that are completely honest about what they like and what they dislike. The strings of words they think, what they feel, what they aren't able to, and the things that have happened which, if even hard to admit, are to blame.


And if I'm not there, I want them to be surrounded by one another.