Post-Coital Halluncination

I lost track of how many times I came
by
looking for you
transmission complete
I saw myself
myself and myself
one white cube
white desk
and a microphone
I tried to speak
but distraction
causes dis-action
and I didn't say it
I stared into my
own eyes
and saw that
I could see
seeing
one less being
or something else
silence sounded
hollow
nothing could follow
but noise
and out of my trance
I fell
awake
motion became
the metaphysical metaphor
gave it what-for
and questioned
spinal fluid
I believe something forgotten
just remembered inside
itself and released
me

face

spider

water

carpet

It is
later
than
you...
think or wish
it is
want it to be
while you look
at my back
am I walking
away and you
want me
to come home
with you
did you imagine
me lying naked
on your bed
waiting for you
well I'm not
and the bar is
closing
are you still thinking
of something to say
some witty one-liner
there's no time finer
then right now
but you didn't and

It is
later
than
you...
percieve in your
chemical situation
the oil's running
our of the global equation
it is late
and you were
praying for salvation
while bombs fall
I saw it all
a few times
and now
time is running short
you should follow
my lead
and walk away
if you can't see
what's burning your eyes
then I have
nothing left to say
except
it's over
and
it is
later
than
you...



so I saw this girl at the airport who had the lines "It is later than you" running down the left side of her back down to the top of her tube-top as a tattoo. I was quite intriqued but didn't have the balls to ask her what the rest of it said. I pondered what it might have said but figured I had a good idea what she meant. So I wrote this from her perspective since it is her tattoo. hope you liked it...

I've been watching the sun's slow path through downtown on 6th street. I can almost tell what time it is by the shadow's fall of the great american building. I see buisness suits and white tees pass by with regularity while I read or write and sometimes sing out loud. No one seems to mind. I nod and smile to the passengers of this sidewalk, some even greet me in return. Comrades of this urban landscape call this sin city but it's here that I've forgiven my fears and transgretions. This girl walks by with cliche flowers that she wishes were for her. They will most likely end up forgotten and dying on some lonely wifes kitchen table while she waits for her husband to finally come home. I think about these people and their dreams. I question if they are fulfilled by their existence, if they desire change the way I do. At times I feel like such an elitist challenging people to wake up. I do know that they all dream and bleed and curse just like I do. Now this bus crosses the river on one of it's many trips. Once a barrier, a billion times a carrier of goods now left scarrier due to destruction. I imagine the complexities involved with my transportation and feel the sudden elevation change in my ears. The sun hits my face through open emergency exit hatch and I feel it's the only energy I want to catch. I see myself fishing. Drinking rainwater and spending all day without shoes. I'm looking forward and away from this cityscape and I almost feel the palms brushing my face. "Why the hell wouldn't you go," says my dad and although I see him rarley I would miss him more. He knows that my bags are always packed and my story will always be his to hear. I find inspiration in everything. These days my mind churns and it will all be recorded for future playback in one way or another.
For quite some time I was feeling lost, but now I'm done burning maps. I'm looking for real sustainability and it seems that I've been given the perfect opportunity. One cycle does not mean another or a consecutive rebirth. So I inspire myself to action...

This is the creepiest thing ever. What does it mean? THis is at a church between cincy and dayton on I-75. So weird.

Jan took this picture of me at work... very bored.

God is choice. We are born with infinite possibility until we have nothing left to decide. It startles me that we cannot perceive what we truly are. We are masters of our universe yet we treat our world like a slave. We are brothers and sisters bonded by the blood of destiny.
When the first voice came from a human mouth it said "I" and with that single syllable we evolved. We chose to no longer be mearely animals but to break free with our minds. We will poke and prod and search our grey matter for the answer to self. The question of what we are is what we are. Explorers and adventurers we will always search within and without. The universe is spiralling around us and through us.
3 is not divisible into a whole number. It is whole, it is complete, it is perfect. You and I together are neither 2 nor 1, we are 3. me, you, us =3. Nothing can exist without interaction.
I hear symphonies spewing from thoughtful speach. I see everycolor footsteps fading in your wake. I feel every soul as my own. We are human. We are dirt. We are sky. All is water. This star gas falls so glorious and silent yet screams with life. We are noble only in composition. True love is self-actualization. When one recognizes solitude and reality then anything is possible. What you know is what you are. All will change with time. Now is just the faded memory of tommorow. Prophets are good at narrowing down options. Only a handful of dreams become truth. Why spread your thoughts to the sky when you need them right here. Use it. Feel it. It is yours and you cannot give it away. The joy of pain is control. It only hurts if you want it.

Freedom is real, we have to find it in ourselves.

Or in Kathy Griffin's fake tits. I had a 20 minute conversation about the fact that if I ever saw her in person I would be quite compelled to stick my face in her cleveage. I miss the old Kathy like Newsradio Kathy. Future generations will praise her in all her underground d-list glory. She's a freak.

When Graham is 25 he says we're going to meet somewhere in the world and start a band.

Jan is this hilarious czech kid that I work with. We have many interesting social conversations. he said that he has no idea what American culture is. I realized after some thought that I didn't either. I guess it's just a product now. We are commercializing the globe, little niche market at a time. We are quickly becoming slaves to the free-market murder. Our government will no longer feed us anything but lies and dirty water.

I have to admit, Robin Hood the disney film is most excellent. Entertaining and a good social lesson as well. Hanging out at the g-unit I showed everyone the disgusting wound in my leg from skating today. It's just like this weird hole in my leg. It doesn't hurt that much right now but I'm sure tommorow will be a different story. THe dry spell that has haunted me creatively has drifted away with the wind. I sit here feeling refreshed finally yet daunted by the next day. animation heals and destroys simultaniously. I finally got to hang out with Johnny Thrash today. Mike and I went down to Lawrenceburg to chill with Johnny and I got to skate the bowls. Mike had his dog with him, remmie. Remmie was gettin all pissed at the kids skating by so mike sat in his jeep with him. I got to skate for about an hour and then mike wanted to go. I got to talk to J. Thrash and I have to remember to explain the number 3 to him. He got to see me do a bunch of tricks he's never seen me do before. It was a great sesh.
Hmm. I guess were drinking rum watching movies and hanging out. What do pirates call their treasure...

we are the mad ones
laughing at the night
cursing responsibility
we are the mad ones
who create our lives
in the reflection of glass
in the pigment brushed skin
we are the mad ones
people talk about us
they wish they were free
or forgot what freedom means
we are the mad ones
cruising through dark alleys
your trash is our future
that we collect and transform
we are the mad ones
looking at the angles
ignoring the walls and
we know there is no ceiling
we are the mad ones
that you envy
that you lust for
and we Are the mad ones
that you are too scared
to be