Tuesday, March 31, 2009

Eight reasons why an octopus is better than a person

1. They have eight arms.
2. They can breathe underwater.
3. They have no bones.

4. They have ink.

5. They can sink ships.
6. They're born in outer space.
7. They're super smart.
8. They're sneaky.

I'd also like to mention:

I've always been fond of silhouettes of trees and leaves.
And not-silhouettes, also.


A Photograph:
Some people in a town square, candid.

A photograph:
One person on a bench in the town square, still candid.

One person, back turned, a different person, or at least a different coat, on the stoop of presumably their house, as they are bending to the keyhole. Perhaps it isn't theirs after all...

Some person, coat off now, posing with spatula in hand, eggs and toast cooking on stove.

Natural light only, an empty wood-floored room save a television on the floor, static.

The cook, sitting cross-legged towards the static on the television, looking back and smiling. Two plates sit on the floor in front of them.

Empty hallway, last door on right, cook peeking around the door frame.

Monday, March 30, 2009

Remember Sammy Jankis

I have this thing where I carry around small slips of paper and write on them some things. I realized this is what Sammy Jankis did. But he was a fraud. I am not that.

Sunday, March 29, 2009


You thought you had me.
For a minute I was near convinced.
You thought you could FOOL me but.
But but but but but.
I saw through it.
I was close,
Close to believing every word.
Eating up every sly comment, but.
As they dissipated, and you faded,
That's when I saw it.
An epiphany, in a flash.
I realized what I had gotten and what I hadn't,
And what I hadn't was real.
You thought you had me,
Here Here Here Here Here
And HERE I am and I knowwwwwww
Yet what I haven't figured out.
Is why.
There's an answer beyond what I knowwww.
True to be here myself true I am
And I will know I will tell I will
I will believvvve what it is
I came to find out and even if
Oh you think I am crazy.
I am. I am and I am.
And you can't fool a crazy person.
Unless you can.

Alright Sparky, Here's the Deal...

Name that movie.^
I'll give you a hint.
It's Aladdin.

If you wanna court the little lady you're gonna have to be a straight shooter, do ya got it?

What if...
What if...
What if...

I didn't have responsibilities to attend to?

Of course real horror does not depend upon the melodrama of shadows or even the conspiracies of night...

Where have I heard that before?

House of Leaves.

But in the meantime, I have a decision to make. And a few more.

hold on, someone is screaming.

Saturday, March 28, 2009

In the sea

I've lost my bearings.

There's only one way to go.

Thursday, March 26, 2009


I quit. Maybe through lack of imagination, maybe through this rope I've tied myself to, I quit. Such a constricting theme is not my scene. Mine is a theme of somewhat of a guideline. The kindling, rather than the flame. Screw you, They Live. No. I still love you. I'm sorry.

Wednesday, March 25, 2009


I'm protesting against this post because I realized I had failed to foresee the political implications in scheduling a theme as politically charged as one from They Live. I'm sick of political posts, hence this protest. Ironically, protests are a form of political action, and a theme, a form of authority.


Today is my 7800th day of life! I'm not saying we should have a party but...

I mean this is a pretty big day.


Tuesday, March 24, 2009


Instructions: Power On. Result: Instant Sedative.

Again, Again

Just so I don't have to keep scrolling so far to remind myself of today's theme. Shut up.

Monday, March 23, 2009




Along the
Riverbed I
Took notice of my
Reflection and
Paused for a

See what
I was up
To. I quickly
Became jealous of
That ghost's life and
Tried to

And copy
His demeanor
So that maybe, just
Maybe, I would
Be happy
And well-

Sunday, March 22, 2009


There are times when I feel lazy that rather than take a whole shower, I'll stick my head in and just wash my hair. I think it takes more effort.

It doesn't stop me.


A daily pill. Blue on one side, white on the other. Sixty tiny milligrams of something or other to suppress everything normal people would call creative. The white walls, the white sheets, the white uniforms, the white labcoats, the white doors with locks and the white-lined windows wired shut. To suppress. A flickering television. A flickering television with muted sound. Black and white. A ringing silence. Collecting dust. And a checkered floor. Black and white. A checkered floor and a thick oak chair. A checkered floor and a thick oak chair with leather straps and a cord tethering it to an electrical socket. A white electrical socket. A thick oak chair to be used twice a week for six weeks. I don't remember ever using it. That's suppressed too. A closely monitored set of correspondence. Trickles away as time moves on. A set of forgotten relationships. Forgotten or suppressed. A vast green lawn expanding forever, beyond which is incomprehensible. Unimaginable. Unimaginable because we are not allowed to imagine it. To imagine.

Saturday, March 21, 2009


The things we do for love...

Friday, March 20, 2009

A Secret xx

I have hidden.
My oreos.
They are in a shoebox,
Behind my bass amp.
Don't tell.


The sky is purple. Is it always that way? Yes, I think it is. Yeah, most definitely, what a stupid question. Careful getting on to the sidewalk, it moves quick on Mondays. Is it really Monday already? Where has time...NO! I forgot my phone. Too late now, I can't go back. What time is it anyway? I'd know if I had my phone. Oh. The clock tower. 17 o'clock. I am going to be so late. I do have my books, right? One. Two. Fantastic. Ulysses and Only Revolutions. These will do wonders in Finance. Do we use books in that class? Yes, Ulysses. Sunny today. Bright. Sunglasses. Brilliant. Don't look now, Yer killin maaee like wo-be-a-chaan are you holdin me up or are you holding, mae doowwn. Rike. Rahk. Rike. Riieeke. Heyy. Not bad. Not bad at all. Think I'll take Bellefield today. Follow behind. Maybe swing past impressively. The bus! The bus! If I had caught it, no. Too late. Let's see. Up, around, McDonalds. How many blocks is that? One? Two? No, that must be twenty minutes. By then it will be far too late. To. Class. Open Ulysses to page 178 where we will learn about stocks vs. bonds. Stocks win 5-3. (Look up, look around). Stage? No. Store. Finally, a purchase! Oh, plays like a dream, much better than that old gal home. Don't tell her I said that. Truss rod problem, medication needed. Oh! Remember about what they said about lucidity? Am I? Am I? Count fingers. One, two, twelve. Nope. Excited over nothing. Something's different though. Something new. Room. Bed, desk, dresser, works. Is it so late already? It looks light outside. Spit down thirty stories. Never gets old. Nope, sure is dark. Lay down, lay down. We'll wait this one out.

Thursday, March 19, 2009


A cut on my finger, I realized I had absolutely zero Band-Aids behind the mirror in my bathroom. Seeing as the cut was quite deep and wouldn't stop bleeding anytime soon, I made a special trip to the drugstore. Walking in, I was overwhelmed by the smell of something reminiscent of staling candy and old people. Nearly tripping over displays of discount movies, holiday specific trinkets, and overcrowded aisles, I juked my way through to the bandages aisle. Blood running down my arm, I searched frantically for Band-Aid Brand, because Band-Aid's stuck on me. I found them, but I also found hundreds of knock offs, wanna bes, and couldn't bes. I looked around at other products and saw the same thing. I saw the hopeless struggle for market share made present in vibrant packaging, spiffy logos, and cute mottos. Each product screamed BUY ME! in its own voice. All the voices at once, however, made me sick. They gave me one of those headaches that splits your skull into two conflicting sides. I was infuriated. I tore down the walls of products, flinging Ace bandages, gauze packages, butterfly bandages, slings, and even my precious Band-Aids. A bit intimidated, a manager approached me and asked me to leave. Looking into his eyes in disbelief, I calmly told him I was here to buy Band-Aids, proceeding to explain the situation with my finger, and showing him the injury. Cringing a little, the man then smiled and said, Okay, you can buy your Band-Aids, and picked a box up from the floor, handing it to me. Appalled by his greedy pointed teeth and his beady green eyes and his sweaty bald head, I slapped the box from his hand and left the store empty handed.


Every Thursday, the only day of the week I work during the time the custodian takes our trash away, I seethe in anger. Not anger. Disappointment. Disappointment? Betrayal maybe. We have two sets of bins. A blue one, with three arrows simulating a triangle, and a gray one, with a black plastic bag inside. Each day, she comes in, dumps the contents from the gray bin into a larger black plastic bag. She then takes the blue bin, and dumps its contents into the same larger black plastic bag. Good deeds are futile.

Something You Should Know

My official daily theme is They Live, suggested by: Me. Due to minimal participation. After this, I found a blog with daily quips that I might use to stimulate thoughts.
See ya.

Wednesday, March 18, 2009


"Do you know why you are here?"
Probably something to do with the blood on my shirt.
"You killed that man."
"That's what I'm here to ask you. Do you remember what happened?"
Yeah, he said something that offended me so I punctured his abdomen with scissors.
"What did he say to offend you?"
Nice day out, eh?
"Yes, what did he say?"
That's it.
"That's what he said?"
"Why did that offend you?"
Who is he to believe that a nice day for him is a nice day for everyone?
"It wasn't a nice day for you?"
It's very narcissist of him to say that. And it wasn't all he said.
"What else did he say?"
Waiting for someone?
"He said that too?"
"And it offended you?"
Wouldn't it offend you?
"No, I would just make conversation."
Perhaps it should.
That wasn't all.
"What else?"
Nice scissors you got there. Sharp.
"How is that offensive?"
So far he's criticized everything about my being there.
"Has he?"
He also agreed to pay me several thousand euros to stab him with those scissors.
"Did he?"
No. But if he had, would I still be here?
I suppose we're done here.
"I suppose so."


Walking home this morning, I passed a bus stop where I saw a man, fifty or so years old, standing in the middle of the turning lane. Excuse me sir, I said, what are you doing there? Waiting for the bus. Shouldn't you wait, you know, on the sidewalk? Can't see. What do you mean? Can't see the bus from there. Sir, I'm sure you'll see it when it comes up. Be too late. I see. He wore a gray suit with a red tie and he held a small briefcase in one hand, a cane in the other. I started to continue, but the sight disturbed me too much. Sir, I really don't think you are supposed to stand there. It could be dangerous. Says who? I'm not sure, the city, I guess. Cities don't have opinions. But they have rules. Who are you to enforce them? Well, nobody, I guess, just a concerned citizen. Go concern elsewhere. Sir, I just really think its in your best interest to stand on the sidewalk. Look! There's even a bench and a shelter for you to sit under. Don't want to sit. Okay, then you can stand, just don't stand in the middle of the road. I'm in the middle of the lane, not the middle of the road. Listen, sir, I am pretty sure you are missing the point. This is dangerous. It can endanger other people. This is not allowed! You clearly know better than I do.
Seeing his point, I decided to continue home.



Tuesday, March 17, 2009


To do:
Schedule Schedule Schedule!
Schedule and
Schedule and
Schedule and study!
And read Ulysses!
Before the Pens.
Ten to One.
Four to Nine.
Step One: Schedule! MUST COMPLETE.
Step Two: Quit. Walk. Eat. Study!
Step Three: Quit. Walk. Study! Read. Read.
Step Four: Pens.
Step Five: Walk. Run. Walk Rapidly.
Step Six: Finish Step Four.

Monday, March 16, 2009

Inside the Tragedy

Where did I go wrong with you?
Did I?
Did I?
The wrong way?
Do not enter?
Do questions deserve answers?
Can asking enough questions satisfy curiosity?
Does it even matter?
Will it all work out?
Can't we just go back to before?
Do you realize what you're doing?
Do you care?
What's the point if I know you aren't there?
Will you ever be?
I'll see you in marmalade skies.


My head is light and my eyes are heavy.
I'm walking through mud.
I think my hair is snakes.

I am also looking for a daily theme.
Perhaps even similar to the suggestions I got for 4x4 Project, but instead of lines and shading; words. There's a place for this. Someone help me out.
What are the chances I hit spot on on the line that follows?
Suggestions go here.---------v <-that's an arrow.


I am in the mood to use scissors.
Aren't You?

Sunday, March 15, 2009

And still, there was a part of me that thought it would solve everything. In the long run, maybe its just even more complicated.

Friday, March 13, 2009

is wrong

Nothing Nothing NOthing Nothing NOthing Nothing NOthing Not ihng Hntoghn NOthing Nothing NOthngoh Nothing Nohtnig nothing Notnhing Nothing Nothing Nothing Nothing Nothing Nothign Nottingham Nothing Nothing Nothing NOthing NOthing NOthing NOthing No Thing No Thing Nothing Nothing Nothing Nothing NOthgin NOthing Onthgn One THing Nothing Nothing NOthing Not a thing NOthing Nothing Nothing NOthing JNothing Nothing NOthing Nothing Nothing NOthing Nothing NOthing Nothing NOthing NOthing

Sunday, March 8, 2009

This Is Important


Thursday, March 5, 2009

a hapless tale...a double drabble, i suppose

The other day I attended a block party hosted by my neighbors, presumably to welcome me to the block. More reasonably, to consume large amounts of alcohol in a socially acceptable manner. I don't know why I attended, I have nothing in common with any of these people but I suppose I was the excuse for the get-together so I was obligated. Besides, I do enjoy good barbecue. Standing at the edge of my driveway while my neighbors mingled effortlessly amongst years of friendships, I took notice of several cracks in the asphalt, all of which guided rows of bright red ants through the crevices and over small bits of gravel. It was just after I observed the oil spot that resembled Edgar Allan Poe that the first neighbor noticed how out of place I really was. A little girl, seven or eight, ran up to me, stomping right on Poe's sullen expression, one that probably resembled my own, and shouted, "Who are you??" I smiled and half-whispered, "I'm the guest of honor." She locked her hands behind her back and leaned forward, smiling, then ran off and nearly tackled her mother's leg, who without looking down, continued her conversation.

work soon

Looking out into the quiet recesses of the morning shadows, I quickly came to realize that I had lost track of time.

As Seen On TV

Satisfaction Guaranteed.


In truth! In truth!
In truth, if nothing more is true, it is this:
Truth is in truth where a lie can not reach.
And by truth and only by truth can another truth be obtained.
That is to say if truth were anything but,
it would be but a lie. Then to be truth must be founded completely on truth.
Seeing as each of us has put forth untruths, it appears we can regard nothing as true.
And this is untrue.

Wednesday, March 4, 2009

do blind people's eyes get heavy when theyre tired?

an urge to barrage the wall with glasses
looking left looking right looking left looking right looking right
a shadow in the corner
no a light!
or nothing at all
that voice, that voice
to pull out hair
or leave it in, as one is so inclined
into the bedside table and if it were so should it be then?
if it were quarter til then at seven to wake equals seven and one half but minus the three previous...no thats not right.
another mess of hair and I can't help but squint anymore
there is no one left
and a pile of dirty clothes that can be clean if i say
i'll never be comfortable again
but at least that's over with


I've an idea. It may take awhile to pan out. Better left unsaid.


its all
in thought
and mind
and its
but ah!
the last
chance I
had to
talk was--
wait, I
don't think
my facts
are straight.
it must
be this
lack of
what is
that? my
lord it's
been so
long. it
must be
I just
don't know.
No, I
just can't
Just. Can't.

Tuesday, March 3, 2009


i remember you.
i remember that face.
i remember that name.
but i don't remember you.
what do i remember...
the problem with memories
is that theyre all made up


swallow blue swallow blue
formula sheet and
don't close your eyes again.
blue blue blue
blue blue
but should it be?
whatever who cares
don't forget.
tests tomorrow
don't forget.

energy + juice

i sat around wondering what possibly came over the mind of the man who invented scissors for an hour the other day.
i am mad. i am mad. i am mad.
not another thought.
i'll never be comfortable again.
on time again.
pennies again.
perpetually derailed.
is that the word I was looking for?
or did i already use it. i mean question mark.
why are there so many rectangles??
stop it. stop it. stop it. stop it.
and YOU. I don't need any of you. or do i...
i think i do...

Monday, March 2, 2009

the birds

there are two birds on my bulletin board.
i just found out...
that they are facing and standing in the same manner,

despite being very different birds
from very different pens

from very different hands
from very different parts of Pennsylvania.

but they are both guarding letters. so that's a thing.

Today for lunch:

2 Slices of Toast with Peanut Butter
1 Egg and Cheese Bagel Sandwich with Frank's Red Hot Sauce
1 Bowl of Ramen Noodles, Chicken Flavor, no Frank's Red Hot Sauce
1/2 of Remainder of 2 liter bottle of Dr. Pepper (approx. 1/2 glass)

and to top it all off, I've become increasingly efficient at flipping food in the skillet. (this is a skill I am proud of)

End show.

to go forward

i don't believe in time.
i believe in progression,
but not time.

zzzzzz. or: aaaaaa!

i need to go|but|the pins and needles|and i dont know why|and|the other things|and my brain just runs too fast|and|the other things|and|im sure theres something else|im sure of it|im sure of it|im sure of it|im sure of it|im shore of it|on the shore of it|not a fan of that place|besides|besides|besides|beside you|beside me|WHATS THE POINT WITH ALL THAT NOISE|?|?|?|and in the long run, there's no tests|and the eyes|...nobody knows what i'm talking about|and if you did|whats the point with all that noise|and|the other things|END|END||||||||||||||||||||||||

Sunday, March 1, 2009

i have no

idea idea_____________idea_________idea___
_idea __________ idea idea idea___________
idea ___idea idea___________________ idea_
______idea__ idea idea idea __idea idea___
___idea_____ idea_ idea_________ idea idea
____idea _______idea idea_______ idea_____
idea ____ idea __ idea ____idea___________
__idea idea _____idea idea________________
________idea idea idea __________idea_____
idea____ idea idea___ idea idea __ idea___
___idea idea idea__ idea idea idea idea___
_idea idea ______ idea idea __________idea
idea ____________idea____ idea ____idea___
_______________________idea idea idea idea