Something

Always are we approaching the end. The end and the beginning. That familiar beginning which is known to be a no man's land to comprehension. In this period of time, we exist without limits. We become psychotic. Great things can be produced.

People call us psycho. Josh, you are so psycho.

Being human is realizing that you have blood running through your veins. To be human is to realize you are insignificant. To be human, you know what you need to know.

We have no choice. Satisfaction is our life.

Believe that without you, the great city of New York will never be the same. And with the same effect, the United States of America will be at loss without its greatest city.

Without you, you will be dissatisfied simply because you don't exist.

Without you, there would be one less person for all the intentions, convictions, and roles that exist.

Slowly we are losing our natural sensibility. And of course, it is no longer the physically superior who flourish, but the thoughtful. Blame evolution, and the vanity of a man who thought outside the box. Most of us who are able to think, are able only because of this evolution; which slowly makes us more unnatural.

The uncharted map of dotted lines going in circles.

If we live and lay in fear, we are righteous for our actions. There is no room for united peace and fearless living. Too few of the conscious population have ever lived. Are we supposed to move forward? To satisfy everyone in their own way. Is that moving forward? Or is what we're doing on this earth to ultimately remain stagnant. To just exist and be satisfied. Maybe after all the ceaseless attempts, our earths plates will shift to create a happy face.

If we arrive where we once started as a civilization, everything we sense will feel more right than ever before.

We need chaos. No longer will human morality be twisted by the products of loneliness and boredom. There will be no time to graduate to a level of modern corruption to entertain ourselves. Our only conscious desires will remain in a realm of purity.

Phunny Phone Calls

James and I are in the middle of a discussion about serious stuff concerning his cheating ex-girlfriend. People are heard talking in the background. Suddenly he says to someone in the room, "Goodbye Tyler."
Me: Wait, is that Tyler Tyler?
James: Yes.
Me: Tell him I say hello.
James: Summer says hello.
Tyler grabs phone.
Tyler: Hey Lover!
Me: Hey.
Tyler: What are you up to?
Me: About to sleep, because I'm soo tired.
Tyler: Well, are you going to dream about me?
Me: No.
Tyler: Shut up! You're so going to dream about me.
Me: I don't think so.
Tyler: Yeah you are. Let's hang out sometime!
Me: All right, just call me.
Tyler: Okay, goodnight Lover, I just grabbed the phone from James.
Me: Goodnight.
James regains control over the phone.
James: Uh yeaah, I'll call you in the morning. Bye.
Hangs up.

One of the many things that bother me in this world is the fact that people forget how insignificant they are. That not only are they so insignificant, but at the same time ignore the reality of other peoples lives. I mean, they are so encompassed in their lifestyle and their surroundings that when someone from another influence begins a conversation with them, they feel so awakened by interest or some bullshit source of enlightenment. The truth is, that where this alien comes from... everyone else is just like they are. And in fact, they are not different at all. In their world, they are just as insignificant as you are in yours.

We feed off eachother. In our world and in our groups, we feed of eachothers ideas, thoughts, presentation, ...everything. No matter what we think of ourselves, or who we associate with--we are what our circle of influence intended us to be. We aren't enlightened, we aren't smart, we just know what we need to know.

I think thats my point, that we know what we need to know.

So then I suppose it's natural adaptation. Adaptation for psychological survival.

Or maybe I just fucking hate hippies, every single kind. I discriminate against. I would like to verbally fuck up a hippy.

And now my precision makes all of what I've written not understandable.

Does it?

the future of pulse

you don't put veins in a computer.
you don't put posters on leaves.
you don't use a spoon to eat sushi.
you don't color in a serious novel.

unless you're South America.

temporary pink bracelet

what if...
a child was born to whom green leaves were red, red apples were green, orange oranges were purple, and expensive ralph lauren polos (colored purple) were orange? though it would grow up to refer to that leaf as "green", it would really be referring to the color red. now, maybe a color recognition test for the eyes would catch something like this, with their brilliantly designed contrast of exactly chosen colors and delicately aimed questions. but what if the child's mismatchingmind was just as brilliantly designed to exchange every single color on the color wheel with an exact other color to make eye tests come up negative for color blindness.

i cannot wait for the delicate future.

and after all the possible resolving

he could still honestly ask:

what do you want from me?

or better:

what the fuck do you want from me?

and if i had walls to be writing on

when are you leaving
for the river
I don't know
but I hope to see you soon
we're all alone
And so very small
insignificant details
in an atomic world
and I can't shake
the feeling
that there was never
any ending
to a plan created
what the fuck
what the hell
will I ever see you
again
to reconnect
our souls to peace
please lemme
see you again.
I don't know when
Remember the old
times
I can't imagine the
future without my
brain thinking this
way
let's see eachother
again and drift
through the norm
The norm of the
evening and clouds
like we used to
shackle time
and continue with
thoughts unthought
of before and we
were connected
once before long
ago in a time far
far away when
your hair was long
and I had perfect
skin and golden
haired friends on
clouds of silver
linings up the
coast of a
dreamland once
again
say tomorrow?
dance and dancing
and danced like
a past dance why
can't I dance like
you
and dream of blue
blacks and whites
on snow covered
mountain tops
keep me waiting
its the only way
I'll survive
'til I'm alive
I can't wait to be
alive again
How come you're not
dead yet? It's not
fair-- is this hell?
or a more perfect
paradise of
suffering out of tune
with syncing stones
and wonderful vibes
of goods and
pleasures to meet
yous and oh I
forgot to mention
ancient colors
we saw that one
time we went without
the usuals into an
abyss of flowing
waves underneath
long gone stars invisible
by the way our eyes
perceive light and
amazing qualities of
water we lived on
for decades like
we drank long ago
before time was time
and was a time when
we didn't dance like
our molecules in the
ice recordings of
players in the sand
stones like stoney
big eyes and dilated
pupils watching a
listening to an idiot
preaching like a
sabelotodo
and we all know
it all we just
don't know it yet
like they did over in that
place where perfect
thoughts are thought
of and evil murks
only in forgotten
memories and under
the moonlight we
rejoice we're not
truly werewolves
but vampires who
have a fetish for
biting not sucking
and driving in the
back seats because
it's possible in
someway where
they have endless
possibilities like this
universe in which
its all possible to
know and think
like beings think
and soulful singers
like singing songs
of birds in trees with
humming things that
buzz and sting and
love eachother like
living together in
our home of supper
time is always
almost here so
be ready time
flies like summertime
is a time and
no one can fly
like those born
with wings watching
through uncurtained
windows of shame
theres no need
to feel ashamed
as they say when
leaves fall and
die and crunch like
crunchy leaves
provide nutrients
for thoughtful soil
who knows what'll
grow next maybe
dry leaves
and
'til the end
and
'til the end
and and and
until it ends and
it all now
this is the
and

Papers, papers, papers

Film after film after film

Con-ed con-ed con-ed

Wa-mu wa-mu wa-mu



With this fork, I will stab you. After I stab you, I will tell you that the fork has more meaning than you do.

I HAD THE SATISFACTION OF KILLING A MOSQUITO TODAY

HIS NAME WAS FUCKER

God I'm so fucking gay

So I got into the shower, and because my dial is reversed I turned the dial to hot. I was already naked, so I stepped in. I soaked my hair and brushed it back. Then I picked up the soap, and lathered my spots making sure every spot was bubbly. Because bubbly means clean. Decided that it was unnecessary to wash my hair in this trip to the shower because I already did it yesterday... or this morning, I can't remember.

Okay, the point is:

The goddamn point is:

Is that when I thought I was finished, I shut off the water, got out and realized bubbles were still in the spots. I hadn't even bothered to rinse the bubbles out of the spots.

Yeah I could've narrated this story _______

Yeah you could shut the ________

Yeah take off your pants and touch ________