frying my mind ain't so bad (as far as i kin feel it)--

it's losing my teeth that truly frightens me.

it's listening to my father blindly spouting truisms.
so i may likely smoke prior to seeing him. this will also help me stomach any food stuffs he may suggest we devour.

i mind the people around me when they are not listening. when they are merely awaiting their turn to speak, counting their thoughts and the seconds and gripping tightly to their words with their tongues behind tight lips.

people and their influences. their influences bother me as well. why couldn't they float past the gate of possibilities. why must they insist on following the same tunnel without exploring the windows on their way. without investigating the source of light shining high or to their far left sides upon the aging roads they tread.

i'm unwinding blissfully, arrogantly, ignorantly. i hardly know what goes on around my own perimeter, where do i get the gall, the nerve, the inclination that i know better.

i only want to step upon a stage and bang my drum and sing with a proud tightness around my eyes and a wide mouth excreting the biggest words i can think of with abandon.

i want to live with abandon.

there is no sphere--

there is no avoiding the blog-o-sphere
it is an adaptation based in the internet
and here in the future lies a key to the past
or at least masturbatory fodder for those whose minds linger in the past

http://retrogasm.tumblr.com/
with promises of vintage eye candy and maybe more, i don't know i haven't really browsed the damn site. the cover page is just so damn appealing.

so i'm bored--

--and i decide i want to read about one of my favourite authors, Ray Bradbury.

so i go over to wikipedia (some obscure encyclopedia written by a woman in a gray suit) and commence to read when i stumble upon a line that reads as follows:

Having been influenced by science fiction heroes like Flash Gordon and Buck Rogers, Bradbury began to publish science fiction stories in fanzines in 1938.

Fanzines. the grandfather of zines. Zines. my dear and most favourable companions in high school. fan-fuckin-tastic. i love how he and i have something in common. had he been living in this day and age instead of a depression era, i might've bumped into him at a library and could've discussed with him collaborating on a zine together. beautiful.

thank you, miss lady in the gray suit. you've rocked my world once more with your infinite and ever-growing wisdom. your teeth must be like that of a great white, yer so wise.. .. ..

david byrne, interview'd

i'd never seen this before tonight.

this is wonderful.

i feel like
if anybody's going to
come here to this blugg
they ought to see this too



in hindsight
everybody should see this

a friend in me (as in "i'm yer friend," don't be stupid)--

http://3brainkarnakinterloper.wordpress.com/

i love most everything going on in this blog.
now normally, i don't rave at blags, but shit, man, this one has got it doowwnn (like "down," only the "o" in the word is suspended in air).
this blug is THE most visited (by me) for essential FUCKING music (not music to "fuck" to, just really really really good music).

from the darkness of the black background and gritty headlining picture to the fact that i can't get i comment in there, everything in this blig is what a blag should be about.

or maybe not, but i get really excited about this bloog.

sincerely,
writer