Asian man playing the piano watching the clock ticking away I see to my left a rather itchy coat hanging on the wall yes it is itchy I can tell because I wore it once only once because I wanted to see if I liked it quite obviously I didn't like it otherwise I would wear it but then again it's not coat whether anyway now is it you see it was my fathers coat I should probably get rid of it not for that reason well actually yes for that reason but also because it is too itchy for my tastes when I was a child I hated to wear itchy clothes my mother would always make me wear a tuxedo to wal mart because she had a very dark sense of humor and that explains why I dislike walmart and bow ties but I digress.
I was supposed to go to Mague's today. I feel kind of bad for not going, mainly because I haven't had Mexican food in a very long time. I might go tomorrow, but they're closed on Mondays. Not Tuesday. Tuesday is a bad day for such an activity. Maybe Wednesday. Yes, Wednesday I shall go. And when I get there I will turn to Carla and tell her I have been looking forward to this trip since Saturday and she will look at me and begin describing how much she loaths my awkward small talks. I can't say I care for Carla, and I think she feels the same. We have a mutual relationship, where I call her Carla and she calls me Racist Pig. Something tells me her name isn't Carla, but I can't quite put my finger on it.
I had some very good tea today. It was Silver Needle with peaches. I love peaches, and I hope you do too.
Some people say that love will find a way. No matter what, even. But will it really? Let's take a moment to ponder the poignant possibility.
I know that love exists. Did you know? One time I was drinking some Mountain Dew and then I was like OH GOD THE BOYS ARE BACK IN TOWN JUST STARTED PLAYING and then I just had to get up and do my best David Lee Roth impression even though he has nothing to do with Thin Lizzy and then suddenly I whipped out a can of Fellowes Air Duster and sprayed it up my butt.
Iam mortua erat adulescentia mea mala et nefanda, et ibam in iuventutem, quanto aetate maior, tanto vanitate turpior, qui cogitare aliquid substantiae nisi tale non poteram, quale per hos oculos videri solet. non te cogitabam, deus, in figura corporis humani: ex quo audire aliquid de sapientia coepi, semper hoc fugi, et gaudebam me hoc reperire in fide spiritalis matris nostrae, Catholicae tuae; sed quid te aliud cogitarem non occurrebat. et conabar cogitare te homo, et talis homo, summum et solum et verum deum, et te incorruptibilem et inviolabilem et incommutabilem totis medullis credebam, quia nesciens, unde et quomodo, plane tamen videbam et certus eram, id quod corrumpi potest, deterius esse quam id quod non potest, et quod violari non potest, incunctanter praeponebam violabili, et quod nullam patitur mutationem, melius esse quam id quod mutari potest. clamabat violenter cor meum adversus omnia phantasmata mea, et hoc uno ictu conabar abigere circumvolantem turbam inmunditiae ab acie mentis meae: et vix dimota in ictu oculi, ecce conglobata rursus aderat, et inruebat in aspectum meum et obnubilabat eum, ut quamvis non forma humani corporis, corporeum tamen aliquid cogitare cogerer per spatia locorum, sive infusum mundo sive etiam extra mundum per infinita diffusum, etiam ipsum incorruptibile et inviolabile et incommutabile, quod corruptibili et violabili et commutabili praeponebam: quoniam quidquid privabam spatiis talibus, nihil mihi esse videbatur, sed prorsus nihil, ne inane quidem, tamquam si corpus auferatur loco et maneat locus omni corpore vacuatus, et terreno et humido et aerio et caelesti, sed tamen sit locus inanis, tamquam spatiosum nihil. Ego itaque incrassatus corde, nec mihimet ipsi vel ipse conspicuus, quidquid non per aliquanta spatia tenderetur, vel diffunderetur vel conglobaretur vel tumeret, vel tale aliquid caperet aut capere posset, nihil prorsus esse arbitrabar. per quales enim formas ire solent oculi mei, per tales imagines ibat cor meum, nec videbam hanc eandem intentionem, qua illas ipsas imagines formabam, non esse tale aliquid: quae tamen ipsas non formaret, nisi esset magnum aliquid. ita etiam te, vita vitae meae, grandem per infinita spatia undique cogitabam penetrare totam mundi molem, et extra eam quaquaversum per inmensa sine termino, ut haberet te terra, haberet caelum, haberent omnia et illa finirentur in te, tu autem nusquam. sicut autem luci solis non obsisteret aeris corpus, aeris huius, qui supra terram est, quominus per eum traiceretur, penetrans eum non dirrumpendo aut concidendo, sed implendo eum totum: sic tibi putabam non solum caeli et aeris et maris, sed etiam terrae corpus, pervium et ex omnibus maximis minimisque partibus penetrabile ad capiendam praesentiam tuam, occulta inspiratione intrinsecus et extrinsecus administrante omnia, quae creasti. ita suspicabar, quia cogitare aliud non poteram; nam falsum erat. illo enim modo maior pars terrae maiorem tui partem haberet, et minorem minor, atque ita te plena essent omnia, ut amplius tui caperet elephanti corpus quam passeris, quo esset isto grandius grandioremque occuparet locum, atque ita frustatim partibus mundi magnis magnas, brevibus breves partes tuas praesentes faceres. non est autem ita. sed nondum inluminaveras tenebras meas.
Sat erat mihi, domine, adversus illos deceptos deceptores et loquaces mutos, quoniam non ex eis sonabat verbum tuum, sat erat ergo illud, quod iam diu ab usque Carthagine a Nebridio proponi solebat, et omnes, qui audiebamus, concussi sumus: quid erat tibi factura nescio qua gens tenebrarum, quam ex adversa mole solent proponere, si tu cum ea pugnare noluisses? si enim responderetur, aliquid fuisse nocituram, violabilis tu et corruptibilis fores. si autem nihil ea nocere potuisse diceretur, nulla afferretur causa pugnandi, et ita pugnandi, ut quaedam portio tua et membrum tuum vel proles de ipsa substantia tua misceretur adversis potestatibus et non a te creatis naturis, atque in tantum ab eis corrumperetur et commutaretur in deterius, ut a beatudine in miseriam verteretur, et egeret auxilio, quo erui purgarique posset; et hanc esse animam, cui tuus sermo servienti liber, et contaminatae purus, et corruptae integer, subveniret, sed et ipse corruptibilis, quia ex una eademque substantia. itaque si te, quidquid es, id est substantiam tuam, qua es, incorruptibilem dicerent, falsa esse illa omnia et exsecrabilia; si autem corruptibilem, id ipsum iam falsum et prima voce abominandum. sat erat ergo istuc, adversus eos omni modo evomendos a pressura pectoris, quia non habebant, qua exirent, sine horribile sacrilegio cordis et linguae, sentiendo de te ista et loquendo.
Sed et ego adhuc, quamvis incontaminabilem et inconvertibilem et nulla ex parte mutabilem dicerem firmeque sentirem dominum nostrum, deum verum, qui fecisti non solum animas nostras sed etiam corpora, nec tantum nostras animas et corpora, sed omnes et omnia; non tenebam explicitam et enodatam causam mali. quaecumque tamen esset, sic eam quaerendam videbam, ut non per illam constringerer deum incommutabilem mutabilem credere, ne ipse fierem quod quaerebam. itaque securus eam quaerebam, et certus non esse verum quod illi dicerent, quos toto animo fugiebam; quia videbam quaerendo, unde malum, repletos malitia, qua opinarentur tuam potius substantiam male pati quam suam male facere. Et intendebam, ut cernerem quod audiebam, liberum voluntatis arbitrium causam esse, ut male faceremus, et rectum iudicium tuum ut pateremur, et eam liquidam cernere non valebam. itaque aciem mentis de profundo educere conatus, mergebar iterum, et saepe conatus mergebar iterum atque iterum. sublevabat enim me in lucem tuam, quod tam sciebam me habere voluntatem quam me vivere. itaque cum aliquid vellem aut nollem, non alium quam me velle ac nolle certissimus eram, et ibi esse causam peccati mei iam iamque advertebam. quod autem invitus facerem, pati me potius quam facere videbam, et id non culpam, sed poenam esse iudicabam, qua me non iniuste plecti te iustum cogitans cito fatebar. sed rursus dicebam: quis fecit me? nonne deus meus, non tantum bonus, sed ipsum bonum? unde igitur mihi male velle et bene nolle? ut esset, cur iuste poenas luerem? quis in me hoc posuit et insevit mihi plantarium amaritudinis, cum totus fierem a dulcissimo deo meo? si diabolus auctor, unde ipse diabolus? quod si et ipse perversa voluntate ex bono angelo diabolus factus est, unde et in ipso voluntas mala, qua diabolus fieret, quando totus angelus a conditore optimo factus esset? his cogitationibus deprimebar iterum et suffocabar, sed non usque ad illum infernum subducebar erroris, ubi nemo tibi confitetur, dum tu potius mala pati quam homo facere putatur...
I'm looking for a place that will biiiiiird my animal, bathe my soul, commission my dog and clip my returns before selling me cigarettes.
lizards in the sky tripping on bad acid and bouncing on giant mushrooms whilst singing "Incense and Peppermints"
Now there's a tired dog.
The distant wonders of the Columbian coffees are intriguing to the sense received from afar, though the pleasures retreat like the French once in direct contact. What could possibly explain this strange phenomenon? I dive deep in the pool of understanding but the bottom can't be found. Is it a sign that coffee is intangible to acceptance?
Listening to experimental breakcore, I am tired. The music is repeating "checkmate, checkmate, checkmate..." for I am listening to "Suasive Chess Strategies" by Venetian Snares. Chess...I remember learning how to play chess in elementary school. Chess day was Monday. Monday was also bagel day. I must have eaten countless bagels while learning about chess. Bagels, I love them. I ate a few this weekend. Melon. Bathroom. Underneath and above are more bathrooms. It is a column. Columns, rows, tables, the table I am on. Table...table...I feel that I need a saw to jump through the hole. Lyrics to the odd song, heated paper that smells so wonderful. I glance over to the locked door a few feet away. It has been locked for as long as I could remember. Perhaps if I open it, I will be transported to the world between worlds. I shall not risk it, however. From the door I move to the garbage can, then the toaster. It is set on 5 and a half, quite higher than normal. I wonder what had been cooking in it. That's right, waffles. Beside the toaster, half-dry dishes. I had forgotten about those. I must dry them. But not now, no, it is not time. The celestial bodies are not aligned correctly, and the waters have not receded. They approach.
I killed another man today. His name was Success.
I walked through fire today. It was overbearing, and brutal. But the atmosphere pushed me towards it, ever so slightly tipping me over the edge, into the great, hot abyss. It was warm, yet cold. The embers emblazoned my body and at the same time I found a new strength, one I had yet known. It took everything I had to get out, and yet I still feel inside that fire now.
I put up with things. I like life. And I am me and I am you and you are me and stuff I like stuff!
I watched Finding Nemo with my cousin's kid, Kayla, who is three years old. Her mom, my cousin, isn't married. How come I can't get laid? I end up going to /b/ and downloading pronz to fap to and store them on my flash drive, that was just blinking when I was playing a song that wasn't on it. If you were in chat, you probably heard that. Also on that hard drive, I have Rodent's Revenge, a game I played with my cousin, Suzy (not same cousin from above). I was about four, she was eight. Sadly, I noticed how fast I was growing up when I became a freshman and she was a senior. Time goes by so fast. This year, I'm a junior and my cousin Ross is a senior. I remember back when we'd have a sleepover every Friday. I remember once we played Pokémon in the snow. Why haven't I gotten a snow day in a while? I want a big pile of snow in front of my house so I can go tubing again. This reminds me of when I played Kirby Air Ride with a friend when that snow was on the ground. I played Animal Crossing on a snow day once in fifth grade. I can't wait for Animal Crossing: City Folk.
Drinking the sonic elixir of the age of unreason, midnight strikes.
Silence.
Against the algorithm lusts the strange matter. How can a hip door harden? The chapel reasons.
My archetype is not altogether their imbecilic premise, but maybe more the posture by which it denies mind, and all of the convictions which come with it. The sympathetic technique talks to your drip near the representative future.
Tonight there was another street battle on the rec center's public baseball field. I didn't join ever since I stepped on that French mine from World War II. Also, I was a bit flustered that they decided to fight on the baseball field. I spent countless days and nights engaged in violent games of catch with my pet rot wailer, Spicy Tuna Roll. I chose the name because when I met him he was being mugged by Japanese sushi chefs. I knew one of those chefs, name was Gunther. Peculiar name for a Japanese man, I once bowled with him, nice guy. Anyways...Spicy Tuna Role ran away and became the spokes-dog for a perfume company.
So about the fight. Was a big one, all the town's major powers were there. Yorky, the golfing champ, had his golf club...that thing packs quite the punch. He actually took out a bunch of guys, until the mummified corpse of Al Capone slammed his head into a microwave, and nuked him. Cannibal Ed ate his noggin's heated remains shortly before being riddled with bullets by Mayor Harrelson. Not to be confused with Woody Harrelson, even though his first names woody. Continuing on, I saw Mike Tyson's supposed cousin Vincent Penne get his arms ripped off by Frankenstein...that was pretty entertaining. After about 2 hours Clint Eastwood arrived on the scene and killed every last simpleton in that brawl.
What I learned? You don't intercourse with Clint Eastwood.
He spots me, the wolf in designer clothing. I try to escape, but to no success. Instead, I am captured in his itchy grasp as he batters me with suggestions. I am destined for this terrible dream. It was ruined, tarnished, and I have nowhere to go.
I result with nothing. Only darkness. Awake. At 3:00 AM. What little potential was handed to me slowly fades away.
ITT: Bad acid trips. :B