early-morning reflections

the kind of tits that inspire you to become a better person

parametrization

parametrization is the key to making good art
humans need limitations
self-imposed restrictions
see: the 5 obstructions

looking still still looking

she never admitted publicly that she was fat. on internet dating sites, she always described herself as "more to love" or "a little extra." the truth, however, was that she had reached that point of obesity where gender no longer matters. to remedy this, she had experimented with several haircuts which she described as funky--the type of risky hairstyle ventures that make or break the careers of hollywood it girls but which, on the wrong person, almost always manage to look unsightly--like some sort of defect and not the long-thought-out decision made by someone desperate for affection but willing, finally, to settle for attention.

she was not opinionated. she had no reason to care one way or the other about anything. there was no one to impress. no potential suitors to weed through. she couldn't afford to be choosy--about anything. instead, she made compromises to her fickle worldview with the introduction of any new character in her life. if, for instance, a guy she liked--a guy whom she'd almost certainly been forced to study with the careful eye of a voyeur--believed in abortion, she allowed herself to feel as he did and adopt or assimilate as harmoniously as she could with his set of convictions. her own self-worth was determined by her current crush's opinion of her worth. but it didn't matter. because happiness and peace of mind played a minor role to the things she believed would make her happy--she often dismissed these things, which she had to know intuitively to be good for her, as non-important, nothing more than second-fiddle meditations.

because she held no convictions, regarding anything, she didn't mind the pandemic-like presence of starbucks coffee shops in her area. whereas most people might find this phenomenon to be some sort of pestering ethical violation or a clear example of corporate hegemony or enforced servitude, she saw it as more opportunities to sit and wait for true love to find her one day, sitting anxiously and sipping her mocha frappe like a slob while devouring a book she felt only half-interested in, truth be told.

this is what she did most nights. she sat and she waited. and if no one showed, she'd set her sights somewhere else--the starbucks down the street, perhaps. during the day, she'd go to various shops where she felt she was guaranteed to find someone with similar sensibilities--as meaningless and ever-changing as these sensibilities were. she especially liked the pet store, not because she liked animals, but because she had a seen a boy there once with devil tattoos and gaged ears who called her "chubs" and asked for a blowjob. she complied, forcing herself to believe that he had an unconventional sense of humor and that she might one day, though it didn't matter now, learn to love him--to reconfigure her then ideal to his overall being.

she was sitting there, at starbucks now. she had just gotten off work--a menial position at a local factory where she was treated, not like dirt, exactly, but like one of the guys, their interest in fucking her being somewhat unlikelier than fucking the least attractive man in their group. when she got home, she'd performed her nearly daily ritual of masturbating to pictures on the internet and in one particular gossip magazine of johnny depp. mostly, she liked all that he stood for, the way he had of unifying all women under his spell--she built her fascination and fantasies around this notion--her aspirations to be accepted. that, to her, was sexy.

around two, a young-ish-looking guy, with the simulacrum of a goatee and a greasy muscle shirt walked in. as he was ordering, she looked up from the trash-fantasy novel she was reading. her eyes were fixed, intently, on his. pleez, pleez, she thought, pleez look over here and notice me. already she had ideas. maybe they'd fuck and he'd be so overcome when she unveiled her mostly-fat-tits that he'd be forced to find himself stricken with her and then they'd get married and she'd have something he wanted and then everyone could take a piss because she had an influence over someone. they could all go fuck themselves.

he looked over at her and she told herself not to break eye contact--maintain, lure him in, hypnotize him with your gaze. he quickly looked away, not interested. finally, he looked back, realizing that she was still looking. he smiled at her.

"you smoke?" he asked.
"yeah," she said, lying.
"let's go out to my car," he said. she followed.

as she was raising her shirt, excitedly awaiting his reaction to what she considered her greatest asset, he stopped her. suddenly.

"it's not going to suck itself," he said.

he undid his pants and removed his boxers. he had a slightly-less-than-average-size penis which looked in proportion to the rest of his body not unlike those members gracing some of history's most recognized sculptures. it made perfect sense, too: given that he exhibited so many of the characteristics particular to the alpha-male. it was not what you expected to find under that seedy veneer of idiot tattoos and macho accessories, but, then again, it kinda was.
"it's so big," she said.
he violently grabbed the back of her head and forced it down. face to face with it, she told herself that she would swallow this time. yeah, she thought, he'd probably like that a lot.

greenwood

i refuse to be a product of my environment.

flock

they came out in fleeting shadows
sweeping across his right side
then disappearing
like the film negative versions of ghosts
he'd just finished his cigarette
and finally motivated himself to
leave the car when they
emerged unexpectedly
he didn't even flinch
finally, he thought, as he lay there
bloody and bruised
savoring every last blow of
the chains and aluminum bats
and tire irons
finally, this is the intervention he'd hoped for
a barricade between him
and the two-storey house
no more than twenty feet away
that long trek he always dreaded

hesse: intellectual skittles

on my drove home from work, i stumbled upon a dark and familiar sky. to call it overcast, would be a broad generalization--and that's what i'm all about: broad generalizations, simplifying the world, finding a happy medium between the world i envision and the world as it is--a network of sensational ephemera. though, because i've found it important enough to write about it, it begs digging deeper.

what it mostly reminded me of--that is, my split-second assessment--was a memory from when i was younger. to this day, i'm not even sure if it really happened. as far as memories go, it's rather mundane--with all the marks of a dream. highly impressionistic and, like most memories from my youth, a perfect vignette in the bulging anthology of sensory information masquerading as linear history. i don't know why i remember the things i remember, but i do.

anyway, the story goes like this:

the sky was overcast. nearly pitch-black, as if the day decided not to break. i remember being shuttled over to a companion elementary school and taking part in a mini-planetarium exhibit. i remember crawling on my hands and knees through a tent, through a maze of tunnels and the disembodied laughter of my fellow classmates. finally, in the center of it all was a seemingly infinite (there's no doubt in my mind that it was tall enough so that i couldn't reach it) and vast display of stars--like the real thing. i remember looking up at it and hearing a voice explaining to me typical trivial babble about the solar system--facts which only an idiot savant could ever commit to memory without the proper influence of experience. from there, i can remember getting back on the bus and the sky still dark as before. in fact, the one thing that i always run back to in my mind, is the contrast between the artificial light indoors and the early morning pitch black sky outside. it was almost as if i'd never woken up that morning, that i'd somehow wandered into or dreamed my way to school. either way, it's the reason i'm obsessed with overcast skies today and things like dreams and feelings--the inexplicable qualities of experience. and that's exactly what the sky reminded me of today. being young and stupid. taking for granted a world that i would one day miss. a world that i am somehow bound to chase for the remainder of my days. i guess that's the way it goes with formative experiences. you can't appreciate them while their happening because it's their mystery that eventually inspires you to seek them out again or recreate their atmosphere. you have absolutely no idea at the time but one day it will be everything you actively pursue. you are the images you keep inside your head. and it's generally the most elusive ones, the ones that you could never, in a million years, thanks to chance or circumstance, hope to ever experience again that keep you chasing them.

mostly, this is how i feel. i can't remember the last time i had a truly remarkable experience. everything just kind of whirls right past me. i've hit all the major milestones. i'd explored nearly everything i hope to discover--with the exception of fame and death--and its left me wanting more--something impossible to articulate. but i keep chasing it, blindly, feeling my way around until i hit upon some temporary pleasant distraction.

in an attempt to remedy this confusion i've taken some time recently to sort of figure out who i am, in an essential sense, and what i hope to achieve. mainly, i just want someone who gets me. i know i've talked about this in great depth in the past, so it's hardly worth belaboring here. i don't even care if this person takes the form of a sexual partner or a bestie. all i want is someone i can open up to or, at least, listen to and admire. first, though, i have a lot of lost time to make up for--to figure out who i am, for real. i wasted a lot of time in high school trying to please people--conforming to their personalities without ever taking the time to discover who i am and what things i like. i was too easily swayed by popular opinion. that's not to say i was a complete sheep, i just never asserted myself or took a stand for what i felt, intuitively, to be an essential part of my make-up. all along, i've been there, but it's going to take some time and a lot of effort to bring this person, this shadow, to the surface. i feel stronger each day in learning new things about myself. it's painful sometimes to look in the proverbial mirror and see what the world sees or what i was too afraid to acknowledge myself, but i feel like, in the end, it's a good exercise because it brings me closer to a less deferential and self-empowered version of myself. from there, i'll be able to find friends or at least devise strategies to find friends based on shared interests. right now, it's not working. i've had the same friends since high school, with the exception of jim and amy, and although i love these people, i feel like there's something else out there, just beyond my reach. i can almost voice it. but i can't see it. i can't make it a reality in any tangible terms. but that's what i'm after: a new life. one which i'm better suited for.

the way i look at it, it's like okcupid, the popular dating site. the concept behind okcupid is that you take a number of tests and answer a number of questions and the system is better able to match you with someone based off your criteria. the more questions you answer, the better okcupid is able to understand and find someone similar for you. it's the same thing. the more i learn about myself, the better able i'll be to find what it is i'm looking for--to play third-party and intervene in my own affairs in a way that profits me in a way i've never experienced.

of course, the alternative is probably just as rewarding--to simply sit back and take a passive role. i mean, sometimes it is better to not try to force something, i understand that. but i've submitted myself to chance too often in the past to know that something needs to change. in fact, that's all i've done--sort of let life happen--unfold naturally. maybe though it's possible, i'm thinking, to change what is natural. to transpose the natural order into my own orchestrated set of principles--in effect, to make my own natural disposition one which clashes with nature. it's all very heady--more a concept than anything at this point. but i'm working on it.

i'll have more to write about this later, especially as it relates to Steppenwolf, which i am currently reading. sometimes i feel a very magical kinship with hesse and i wonder how it's possible for someone to anticipate my own being so many years before my time.

oh well. it's probably just a bunch of hippie new age bullshit.

the lone wolf of the steppes

i like ideas. but i memorize trivia.
i like people. but i prefer dogs.

cruel cruel theatre

there's a buzzsaw buzzing in my ears
it reminds me that there is better noise
by comparison
a single sustained and discordant
note
i let it serenade me to sleep
and in the morning
i welcome radio station riff-raff
with loving arms and an open heart