there is no loveliness in a place so quiet as the heart

in my campaign to corrupt the youth of america, i took my girlfriend to the heart of the anaheim ghetto to visit a piercing/tattoo shop. we were there to get a 3 hole ear piercing for some spiral jewelery thing my girlfriend wanted. she has been talking about getting the piercing since i have known her. i am not one to say no to reckless excess.

i am the fucking king of reckless excess.

some highlights in words:

the piercer referring to me as my girlfriend's dad when I was taking a piss.

me telling the piercer how i pretty much hate all piercings and think they are ugly and atrocious but some i will put up with.

walking into the tattoo portion of the shop which was complete with cholo gangster types and saying "yeah he's not a pussy" in response to a question from my girlfriend. the entire place went quiet and all brown eyes were on me.

now the highlights in picture:

fingers in the smoke

WHAT A LITTLE GIRL
HAD ON HER MIND

What a little girl had on her mind was:
Why do the shoulders of other men’s wives
give off so strong a smell like magnolia;
or like gardenias?
What is it,
that faint veil of mist,
over the shoulders of other men’s wives?
She wanted to have one,
that wonderful thing
even the prettiest virgin cannot have.

The little girl grew up.
She became a wife and then a mother.
One day she suddenly realized;
the tenderness
that gathers over the shoulders of wives,
is only fatigue
from loving others day after day.

-IBARAGI NORIKO

LABOR PAINS

I am sick today,
sick in my body,
eyes wide open, silent,
I lie on the bed of childbirth.

Why do I, so used to the nearness of death,
to pain and blood and screaming,
now uncontrollably tremble with dread?

A nice young doctor tried to comfort me,
and talked about the joy of giving birth.
Since I know better than he about this matter,
what good purpose can his prattle serve?

Knowledge is not reality.
Experience belongs to the past.
Let those who lack immediacy be silent.
Let observers be content to observe.

I am all alone,
totally, utterly, entirely on my own,
gnawing my lips, holding my body rigid,
waiting on inexorable fate.

There is only one truth.
I shall give birth to a child,
truth driving outward from my inwardness.
Neither good nor bad; real, no sham about it.

With the first labor pains,
suddenly the sun goes pale.
The indifferent world goes strangely calm.
I am alone.
It is alone I am.

-YOSANO AKIKO

a crow will eventually forget the sky if it comes upon a field covered in shiny scrap metals.

i had an epiphany. i am not sure precisely when the epiphany occurred, but, it did occur at some time in my adult life. it occurred one night during a brief walk down a street. on this street were many shops, of all varieties, small and big, complete with giant glowing signs with brand names illuminated.

i looked up at the stars and realized this was all bullshit.

the easiest way to keep a man a slave is to teach him from birth that he is not a slave at all.

teach him that his cage is not an imprisonment.

the bars do not exist.

no, sir, the slave master will say, these are not bars. no way.

why these bars are your universe, your earth, your city, your home.

see where these bars are?

yes you'll say

this is your dawn
this is your dusk
this is your church
this is your family
this is your obligation
this is your cemetery
this is your grave
this is you
this is all you will know
the cage bars do not exist
recites the slave master

few will question the cage

great evil rarely exists, but it does exist today. media they call it.

electronic and analog media in the 21st century exists solely to direct a person's thinking a certain way.

buy this. vote that. feel this. hate that.

influence over millions with small effort. this concept is very scary to me.

media needs to be communicated. the faster the communication the better.

thus we have twitter.

look at such a great tool! a device to ensnare the minds of millions, a distraction from their mundane lives. it is free too!

twitter goes down and millions of people are in woe and confusion. they don't know what to do with their mind without the constant distraction of twitter updates.

oh no.

of course poetry is dead, literature is dying and the mind of the youth is superficial.

these are not bars. no sir. this here, well, this is an ipod, this here is a blackberry handheld device, and this is twitter. not bars at all.

today i felt like a mannequin staring at its reflection in a store front window as the muted strangers passed on by

what's up people. or person. i have no clue who reads my blog. i killed the stat counter the last time i deleted my blog. sometimes eliminating something small feels good.

i haven't felt like writing much. i keep thinking "fuck i need to finish those two novels i am working on." i think it but never go forward with any writing really. i am a little scared to i think.

at a young age i realized forward is progress and progress comes directly before an end. i am aware of my type of personality, very black or white, in extremes. i am scared of myself really.

for a very long time i have tried to do nothing. just stare at my feet and let the world go by. i don't really make plans. my way of thinking can really frustrate some people including my girlfriend i think. she is the opposite. trying to control very small things to feel safe.

i do not feel safe knowing details or making progress. i try very hard to be like seaweed, sway with the cosmic waves i guess.

anyways. whatever. i'm a douche.

i will recap stuff that has happened since the last time i felt like typing in a public forum.

*)finished "blood meridian". the captain of indie publishing/writing blake butler suggested this book on his blog. i didn't want to buy it because it was a western genre book. i remember reading old pulp westerns as a kid, while i did not dislike them, it really isn't my type of handjob any more. so boring. but i acquiesced and put faith in butler and picked up the book. fuck i'm not going to lie. how many different ways can you describe the same shitty desert? the book reads like a mental fuck. cormac has a way with the word i think few could imitate. his genius is patent. i almost put it down but then the first verse of real violence hit. the apaches swooped down and made their strength known. i fell in love right there. while the book was boring and repetitious when the violence wasn't going down, plus the ending was a little disappointing, not like a total bullshit hollywood ending or something, just i was expecting steak and got chicken, while chicken isn't bad it isn't steak either, anyways i forgot where i was going with this. i liked the book and recommend it.

*)i was hanging out at the orange circle where the fountain exists on a sunday night around 9:30pm with my girlfriend. i took quick notice of how quiet the place seemed. i usually see a cop drive by every 7 minutes and hadn't seen any in 20 minutes. i forget what spurred it but i started tickling the shit out of my girlfriend for about 10 minutes straight. she was flopping this and that way like a fish sucking for air or something. i mean i got a good tickle on. you know the kind when the person can only make an open mouthed retard face and only get the sound "unggggggggg" out? i stopped, grabbed her empty can of soda and tossed it in the trash bin. suddenly i see cop lights off in the distance and make a joke to my girlfriend that they are coming to get me for tickling her. the cop roars up and stops dead in front of me in the roundabout blocking traffic. at this point i'm a little confused as the officer exits the dodge charger quickly and draws a heavy black nightstick from his waistband. "huh" i think. seriously i am perplexed. the cop asks some college kids kissing in the grass if they have seen a man assault a woman. "huh" i think again. then officer dickhead waltzes up to me the way men who enforce power but do not abide by it do and asks me if i have seen a man strangling a woman. "uh no" i reply while feeling weird and scared and out of place. the cop starts whispering in his shoulder. i turn to my girlfriend to ask her if she saw anything suspect and notice 5 or 6 cop cars pulling up strategically around the circle behind me, hear more screaming off in the distance and the epiphany hits me: they are there for me. quickly i say "i was tickling my girlfriend. is that what you mean?". the cop asks me to demonstrate the tickling and i get my girlfriend good and she makes the retard spasm that tickling incites. "oh okay. well we got a report of a bearded man strangling a woman" the cop informs me and i realize he was after me the entire time. all cops lie. the entire situation felt surreal and i remember saying "are you joking with me?". i left and crossed the street. cop cars roared for another 5 minutes and periodically patrolled the area. it was ridiculous. i swear the weirdest shit happens to me. i don't know why. it comes regardless.

*)went to the used bookstore "the bookman" in this failing strip mail off of tustin street. the bookstore has been there for as long as I can remember but i only started going recently. they have a huge selection of science fiction and everything else is hit or miss. i scrounged around and bought "ray" by barry hannah. i remember either blake or justin taylor recommending hannah over at htmlgiant. i am in love with this guy. i read most of the thing in a sitting and stopped with about 10 pages to go. i don't want to finish it. i love how this guy writes. if his other stuff is like this then i have some quality reading ahead of me.

*)went to a cvs pharmacy and wandered around. it was about 10 pm. i picked up this massive black plastic bat with a wiffle balle attached to the end of it. swinging the bat around my head, i imagined myself destroying everything in the store. the wiffle ball went sailing after a good swing and this prick in a cvs vest scampers over and picks the ball up. he had dirty looking skin and sunken scarred cheeks. the guy remined me of a meth head. he asked me if i was going to buy anything or just swing the bat. i informed the petty shithead that i would leave if i wasn't welcome. he told me to leave so i returned his comment with "you're a dick" complete with extra emphasis on the "ck" noise. this seemed to enrage the worker and he told me i "hurt his feelings". i laughed in his face and left. so i got kicked out of a cvs. sort of.

*)ate at in-n-out. i feel bad for you people who do not know the luscious kiss of an in-n-out burger. for real. make a trip. try one. if it isn't the best fast food burger you have tasted, then i will suck your balls or whatever you might have down there. believe it.

*)received a surprise email from ja tyler asking me to read/review/interview molly gaudry and her upcoming mud luscious novella. i think it is a novella. the interview/review is for word riot and jackie corley suggested i do it. i thought this was odd. i haven't talked to jackie ever. she seems cool. hi jackie if you read this. whatever. so i said yes i will do it. now i have anxiety. i don't know how to review things. all i really say is "i like" or "i no like" but that's just my opinion.

other shit has occurred but who cares. i tire of type type type typing.

the sun hasn't exploded yet.

neither has my cock.

shame.