he would touch with his finger grotesquely contorted and knew that he revelled in the ugliness that ultimately served his ego as the touched thing cracked into pieces and he danced on the shards

it is impossible now to write without feeling pretentious; knowing or believing that this one time may be read by a friend makes me feel ridiculous in writing it, ah, why? Because I know that I am writing not for myself anymore and yet write such things in a public forum--but for some odd reason the written journal is not proving to be tempting recourse...

my tao alone

now I don't think this should be a problem, as I doubt those whom I informed would return to check on the happenings of the blog, but I find now after running my PR loop about minddontrest that the legs have tired and I would like to return to the safety of my deep-woods gnarled tree to ruminate by my solitary self...

already the words have acquired the red dust of corrosion from exposure to air, and thoughts sincere I am sheepish to post now that it seems I will lay bare my curious insecurities about life...

Shall I take to politics? Blog disparagement? Mini-stories of human rights abuse gore that makes us all feel guilty for yelling at our luke-warm coffees?

I guess the bottom line is that I'm scared of criticism, the friend who will come by and say, please keep this nonsense off the net...

But one more thing, before I go off to cry in my sleeve, see this thing that I stole from a friend's blog because I think it's a worthy thing to do:

www.nwtrcc.org

And go on to the phone tax resistance part--you'll save a couple bucks a month if nothing else draws you to it! Cheers

and I thought I was clairvoyant

"Should any political party attempt to abolish social security, unemployment insurance, and eliminate labor laws and farm programs, you would not hear of that party again in our political history. There is a tiny splinter group, of course, that believes that you can do these things. Among them are a few Texas oil millionaires, and an occasional politician or businessman from other areas. Their number is negligible and they are stupid."


Dwight Eisenhower, 1952

Implications?
Stupids are running this place
Stupids, though few in number, have all the power
Stupidity doesn't preclude influence over other stupids
Stupids fooled Americans, so Americans are stupid too

kerouac's technique don't work a bit

yo i don't find things any more lucid or succinct or pithy for that matter when there's another substance in play; rather it affects more the mechanical parts of the job (ie, typing) than the creative parts, which can really do better without anything at all--I mean, come on, there's nothing more coherent and clever expounded in this post than there is in any past post that came from the same brain, same business...

So it would seem mr. huxley's premise applies not to me...

Epic Days...

Yah the days have been so packed these last few that I can hardly remember the effort I'd exerted to post that last, with thoughts which I seemed to have thought ages ago--and what's new for these days? Well I wonder, business perhaps stunts the capacity to flow em out good and cohesive, smart and witty (thought I needed another dyad but I cannot be either of course, we shall concur on that one friends)--

here's an image for you friends: I do not purport to be an kind of proxy thereof, but envision friends the Goddess Lakshmi with gold coins flowing from her hand--then apply that image to my new york city spending and you will get an accurate picture of my current situation and my anxiety as a result, considering that I am going to school in a few! It must stop! But it cannot, I value money not enough to keep it in the computers in the black...

Red, I am doomed to the red...

a late night offering

what's there to offer tonight except glimpses into the inner workings of the lives of the metroriders, the contemplative birkenstock wearing activist girl, the evening shift maintenance guatemalan off to his modest rooms in mid-bklyn, the drunk couple headed home from an evening of pabsts and miller lites on tap, a lawyerly type serious with his wsj, the couple of latinas with talk of que chulo es su culo or some shit, and me the observant fool who looks like some kind of smiling discerning maddie to the rest who are making their own speculations about my life (or not, as I'm not the center of this world of course)

and disclaimer friends: these glimpses are all speculations based on the facial expressions of the metroriders, so they are by no means reflective of the real roilings in the lives of these subjects...good night friends

the reject

Ah man, looks like even after invitations the thing is not attractive enough to entice the friends to comment--I suppose there's nothing to comment when all I've been doing is ragging on blogs and writing about myself...though I am inclined to promise that it will get better, I dunno if that's a pure lie or what, seeing as my tendencies towards self-absorption these days have done nothing but intensify as of late, a veritable microphone of Meenatalk I have become, and clearly it's not getting any better...

it was his body

For any friend who once read this unfortunate verse, I have deleted it for embarrassment and I am sure that even the nicest of you will not say you miss it one bit...

I will steer clear of the poetry friends, don't worry--no others will have to suffer thru such badness again...

morning stint

quick one as my eye flutters tired fatigue out the gray window masking 3 o'clock afternoontime from 7.30 amtime...the squash vine that creeps in the yard behind is of an abnormally large size as I see the pumpkins will be large this year and the kiddies will have a fine halloween