Borrowed title.
Earlier in the week:
10/15
Inomniatic expression of time utilization with the help of the cannabinoid and dissociative class of medicines in the subjects personal repertory. A consistant plus one feeling of peace and contemplative come surorunds the sens throughout the day, brief nap was excercised from midday to midafternoon. Hopelessly stoned, creatively useful, excessively social and talkitive. Clear and concise. I should feel as such each day and make it my duty now to do so come hell or heaven below us.
A definitive accute philosophical and emotionally medicinal and pleasant afterglow of the mind of wakeful dreaming. The mind and the body are on the same team and getting SERIOUS. Brain areas in gilded cooperation in hopes of fueling a mechanical and shingingly bright imagination full of ideas and past insights, from both others and myself. A brilliant day, 3:30 PM
10/16 Wednesday 6:03
Awoke abruptly at 5om. Sprung up with vigorous resolve and an umbridled intent; to put it country simple, wired, determined and hopelessy bored. Must flee.
[url]http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v614/asxwexfall/2012-05-16063131.jpg[/url][img]
Check transactions and postal statuses on the "inter-web" archives of current information and leave. I have little gas in the vehicle, yet ten hours to chew through before work and serious responsibility strips me of my leisure (or is it real work?, keep an eye on that) so fuck gas.
I've enough cash for a quick breakfast, showering before hand and briefly dressing, dorning a colorful set of garb picked out wantonly as the electricity in my nerves moved my actions toward complete resolution.
I'm in a bagel shop writing feverishly and simultaneously reading the N.Y. times, as I like to torture my self a little bit in the morning to ready me for the agony of the day. Also for balance I have a copy of an informational book on the I ching, but I'm in no mood for reading. I'm sitting here wondering on how I can go about wasting this morning without involving sleep, apathy, cheap excuses and the like. I'll postulate a few essay questions I've been meaning to have a go at:'
1) How does one short-circuit control? Leaving this one vague for fun.
2) Okay. So you've been born into this endless, meagical universe. It's yours, because your reality is the only true thing you'll ever know, regardless of who shares it with you and at what time period. What do you intend to do with it?
This is just another valid question I'm asking for the sake of it. Why isn't the library open 24 hours? Seven Eleven is and I think that says a lot about the state of intellectualism in this country. Cut cops salaries and hire librarians around the clock. I NEED that place in the 5-9 hours, not the adverse. CHECK INTO THIS IT MAY BE IMPORTANT.
Oh how ye loathe writing upright confined to a stationary vehicle, but get used to it, Jim. Although retreating to the warm and weatherless sanctuary of the car is enticing and useful, tough titty on the writing situation. Plenty of times to record information and you can't be worried about finding a desk and a fucking chair, not until you can afford the proper voice recording device. Stay on task. Right. Besides, Analog and Digital skills are both damned requirements in this trade, so learn to hack it good on both ends. The polarity is impeccable. Can't be in the amazon with a snootfull of plant extract and a bare-assed Indian beside my worrying about service for my "galaxy note." I don't own one by the way, and that's beside the point. Point is I'm writing this with my hands, and will transcribe and edit simultaneously once back at the house, at least until the damn library opens and I can find some peace there to reflect and finish that damn paper and some books. God where've we traversed, fucking ad libbing bullshit. I'll continue.
[img]http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v614/asxwexfall/2012-05-16063131.jpg
Finished off a coffee - too manic to remain stationary on a mean, cloudless bog of a day. It feels like New Orleans after the last day of Monsoon Season, horrible fog. Drove down to a dead end peer to see the atlantic view point, some finely tuned music, silent introspection, and perhaps even a touch of inpersational direction. It rains heavily from time to time and I can't see 3 feet in front of my eyes but I've got time - one can manage to get quite a bit accomplished in the 9-5 hours. I'm sure you've also noticed the antomity in that statement, I'll elaborate with my usually precise logic as best as I can.
Once the insects awake and start unulating and consuming around and about in the town in a great swarm of low IQ's and fat pocket-books I'll probably need some kind of impressively powerful drug to deal with it. Extremely potent, high grade Cannabis Indica would certainly do the trick, or the speed; but I'm saving that for a different breed of stormy day that doesn't inherently or necessarilly refer to any kind of weather experience.
"I heard a woman on the radio tell me they were going to have a rain event, I jumped up and shouted "HOT SHIT I BETTER GET TICKETS TO THAT!"
Yes, uncle George comes to mind, and right he is.
Likely I'll go the day sober and why indeed not? Might serve useful and I'm in a positively determined and focused mood. Diet change, smoking and alcohol cessation, benzo drop to 1mg, occasional use of cannabis and dissociatives. Methoxetamine has been a huge spiritual help, and dextromethorphan in any dose helps with cognition and tolerance. Eating regularly and healthy too. Stretching and yoga come next. Climb the latter, on this rotten day sobriety may serve useful.
The rain has died down a bit and I think I'll venture a peak. Everything has an opalescent gray to it, though looking through tinted living glass. Everything moves, the space is visible to remind us of interconnectivity and oneness, but enough of that shit. Off to take a gander at the ocean I fully intend to return myself to the earth with.
Not any time soon mind you, just once the organism (package of flesh tended and bones my consciousness drags around looking for fun) loses vitality or/and existence is functionally useless for me. Self-whacking anasethetic doses of widely available arylcyloheylamines and drowning talk, what a deserprately grim entry that would prove, and a deadly tangent to wander into so I'll stop it at the line. Let it be known that I hate puns with vociferous, passionatetly psychotic vigor, as I'm sure you good, clean honest Americans do, and the phonetic anomaly was nothing more than a coincidence. Caio for now.
Nothing out there but dampness and sea gulls, and any bird dumb enough to hanging onto a pier on a day like this should have his mammalian head examined. Bird psychiatry, now theres a thought. Mental note. Fuck all that for now, time for a fast drive to a location unbeknownst at this time, maybe I'll regroup and get this into print, editing in an installment later. But I'll end on that note as Lenny Bruce once did, quoting "I never met a dyke, I didn't like."
-Sala Y.B.
An Addendum:
First Conversation of the Day.
(7:36:40 AM) Thou: You're probably not awake, but good morning
(7:36:41 AM) S(7:39:30 AM) Sarah: Buenos dias
(7:39:49 AM) Thou: aloh bella seniorita!
(7:40:01 AM) Thou: We could have used a translator in the tattoo shop yesterday lol
(7:40:09 AM) Thou: I've been writing since 5 am.
(7:40:12 AM) S: Soulmate energies and issues are waking me.
(7:40:37 AM) S: Lol, lo siento. Ahorita, no puedo traducir mucho
(7:41:16 AM) S: Estoy cansada
(tired) quiero dormir (i wanna sleep )
(7:43:24 AM) Thou: I have know idea what you just said, but it's cheered me up immensely.
(7:43:38 AM) Thou: I was insomniatic the other day, helps me creatively. Now I'm just stoned.
(7:44:00 AM) Thou: Still from last night, it's pleasant and better at producing clear thoughts and ambition than adderall.
(7:45:07 AM) Thou: Did my soul awake you? I'm sorry.
Earlier in the week:
10/15
Inomniatic expression of time utilization with the help of the cannabinoid and dissociative class of medicines in the subjects personal repertory. A consistant plus one feeling of peace and contemplative come surorunds the sens throughout the day, brief nap was excercised from midday to midafternoon. Hopelessly stoned, creatively useful, excessively social and talkitive. Clear and concise. I should feel as such each day and make it my duty now to do so come hell or heaven below us.
A definitive accute philosophical and emotionally medicinal and pleasant afterglow of the mind of wakeful dreaming. The mind and the body are on the same team and getting SERIOUS. Brain areas in gilded cooperation in hopes of fueling a mechanical and shingingly bright imagination full of ideas and past insights, from both others and myself. A brilliant day, 3:30 PM
10/16 Wednesday 6:03
Awoke abruptly at 5om. Sprung up with vigorous resolve and an umbridled intent; to put it country simple, wired, determined and hopelessy bored. Must flee.
[url]http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v614/asxwexfall/2012-05-16063131.jpg[/url][img]
Check transactions and postal statuses on the "inter-web" archives of current information and leave. I have little gas in the vehicle, yet ten hours to chew through before work and serious responsibility strips me of my leisure (or is it real work?, keep an eye on that) so fuck gas.
I've enough cash for a quick breakfast, showering before hand and briefly dressing, dorning a colorful set of garb picked out wantonly as the electricity in my nerves moved my actions toward complete resolution.
I'm in a bagel shop writing feverishly and simultaneously reading the N.Y. times, as I like to torture my self a little bit in the morning to ready me for the agony of the day. Also for balance I have a copy of an informational book on the I ching, but I'm in no mood for reading. I'm sitting here wondering on how I can go about wasting this morning without involving sleep, apathy, cheap excuses and the like. I'll postulate a few essay questions I've been meaning to have a go at:'
1) How does one short-circuit control? Leaving this one vague for fun.
2) Okay. So you've been born into this endless, meagical universe. It's yours, because your reality is the only true thing you'll ever know, regardless of who shares it with you and at what time period. What do you intend to do with it?
This is just another valid question I'm asking for the sake of it. Why isn't the library open 24 hours? Seven Eleven is and I think that says a lot about the state of intellectualism in this country. Cut cops salaries and hire librarians around the clock. I NEED that place in the 5-9 hours, not the adverse. CHECK INTO THIS IT MAY BE IMPORTANT.
Oh how ye loathe writing upright confined to a stationary vehicle, but get used to it, Jim. Although retreating to the warm and weatherless sanctuary of the car is enticing and useful, tough titty on the writing situation. Plenty of times to record information and you can't be worried about finding a desk and a fucking chair, not until you can afford the proper voice recording device. Stay on task. Right. Besides, Analog and Digital skills are both damned requirements in this trade, so learn to hack it good on both ends. The polarity is impeccable. Can't be in the amazon with a snootfull of plant extract and a bare-assed Indian beside my worrying about service for my "galaxy note." I don't own one by the way, and that's beside the point. Point is I'm writing this with my hands, and will transcribe and edit simultaneously once back at the house, at least until the damn library opens and I can find some peace there to reflect and finish that damn paper and some books. God where've we traversed, fucking ad libbing bullshit. I'll continue.
[img]http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v614/asxwexfall/2012-05-16063131.jpg
Finished off a coffee - too manic to remain stationary on a mean, cloudless bog of a day. It feels like New Orleans after the last day of Monsoon Season, horrible fog. Drove down to a dead end peer to see the atlantic view point, some finely tuned music, silent introspection, and perhaps even a touch of inpersational direction. It rains heavily from time to time and I can't see 3 feet in front of my eyes but I've got time - one can manage to get quite a bit accomplished in the 9-5 hours. I'm sure you've also noticed the antomity in that statement, I'll elaborate with my usually precise logic as best as I can.
Once the insects awake and start unulating and consuming around and about in the town in a great swarm of low IQ's and fat pocket-books I'll probably need some kind of impressively powerful drug to deal with it. Extremely potent, high grade Cannabis Indica would certainly do the trick, or the speed; but I'm saving that for a different breed of stormy day that doesn't inherently or necessarilly refer to any kind of weather experience.
"I heard a woman on the radio tell me they were going to have a rain event, I jumped up and shouted "HOT SHIT I BETTER GET TICKETS TO THAT!"
Yes, uncle George comes to mind, and right he is.
Likely I'll go the day sober and why indeed not? Might serve useful and I'm in a positively determined and focused mood. Diet change, smoking and alcohol cessation, benzo drop to 1mg, occasional use of cannabis and dissociatives. Methoxetamine has been a huge spiritual help, and dextromethorphan in any dose helps with cognition and tolerance. Eating regularly and healthy too. Stretching and yoga come next. Climb the latter, on this rotten day sobriety may serve useful.
The rain has died down a bit and I think I'll venture a peak. Everything has an opalescent gray to it, though looking through tinted living glass. Everything moves, the space is visible to remind us of interconnectivity and oneness, but enough of that shit. Off to take a gander at the ocean I fully intend to return myself to the earth with.
Not any time soon mind you, just once the organism (package of flesh tended and bones my consciousness drags around looking for fun) loses vitality or/and existence is functionally useless for me. Self-whacking anasethetic doses of widely available arylcyloheylamines and drowning talk, what a deserprately grim entry that would prove, and a deadly tangent to wander into so I'll stop it at the line. Let it be known that I hate puns with vociferous, passionatetly psychotic vigor, as I'm sure you good, clean honest Americans do, and the phonetic anomaly was nothing more than a coincidence. Caio for now.
Nothing out there but dampness and sea gulls, and any bird dumb enough to hanging onto a pier on a day like this should have his mammalian head examined. Bird psychiatry, now theres a thought. Mental note. Fuck all that for now, time for a fast drive to a location unbeknownst at this time, maybe I'll regroup and get this into print, editing in an installment later. But I'll end on that note as Lenny Bruce once did, quoting "I never met a dyke, I didn't like."
-Sala Y.B.
An Addendum:
First Conversation of the Day.
(7:36:40 AM) Thou: You're probably not awake, but good morning
(7:36:41 AM) S(7:39:30 AM) Sarah: Buenos dias
(7:39:49 AM) Thou: aloh bella seniorita!
(7:40:01 AM) Thou: We could have used a translator in the tattoo shop yesterday lol
(7:40:09 AM) Thou: I've been writing since 5 am.
(7:40:12 AM) S: Soulmate energies and issues are waking me.
(7:40:37 AM) S: Lol, lo siento. Ahorita, no puedo traducir mucho
(7:41:16 AM) S: Estoy cansada
(tired) quiero dormir (i wanna sleep )(7:43:24 AM) Thou: I have know idea what you just said, but it's cheered me up immensely.
(7:43:38 AM) Thou: I was insomniatic the other day, helps me creatively. Now I'm just stoned.
(7:44:00 AM) Thou: Still from last night, it's pleasant and better at producing clear thoughts and ambition than adderall.
(7:45:07 AM) Thou: Did my soul awake you? I'm sorry.