i got the camera, i got the brain, i got the time, the space, and the materials. now what the fuck am i supposed to do again? shit. how can i get my cat to stop laying all over my paper and getting all my work shitty? shittier. haha. oh man.
about a fuckin insane tsunami last night, it scared the fucking shit outta me. i also thought i figured out the entire structure of our dreams, but, my theory seems to be flawed. o well.
i walk amongst the sleeping, and see beyond a facade that most find comfort in. im uncomfortable. im uncomfortable. im uncomfortable. im uncomfortable. im uncomfortable. im uncomfortable. im uncomfortable. im uncomfortable. im uncomfortable. im uncomfortable. im uncomfortable. im uncomfortable. im uncomfortable. im uncomfortable. im uncomfortable. im uncomfortable. im uncomfortable. im uncomfortable. im uncomfortable. im uncomfortable. im uncomfortable. im uncomfortable. im uncomfortable. im uncomfortable. im uncomfortable. im uncomfortable. im uncomfortable. im uncomfortable. im uncomfortable. im uncomfortable. im uncomfortable. im uncomfortable. im uncomfortable. im uncomfortable. im uncomfortable. im uncomfortable. im uncomfortable. im uncomfortable. im uncomfortable. im uncomfortable. im uncomfortable. im uncomfortable. im uncomfortable. im uncomfortable. im uncomfortable. im uncomfortable. im uncomfortable. im uncomfortable. im uncomfortable. im uncomfortable. im uncomfortable. im uncomfortable. im uncomfortable. im uncomfortable. im uncomfortable.
i saw a family of humans sitting outside, on their porch. they were listening to spanish music from a white truck with all the doors wide open. it was loud enough to fill up the whole block with soft sound. i felt it to be better than the usual silence.
so, im in some room with quentin tarantino and this african american prostitute. i tell him its cool if he bones her as long as he wears a condom and i can watch. i look right at her after i told him to wrap it up and i ask her not to get offended. "it has nothing to do with you, im just sayin, you feel me?" either way... they boned. i watched. what the fuck kind of bologna is that? cheers. tip of the day: MID•DAY MASTERBATION. stimulating. thanks america!
i have been waiting at the back of the line for a long time. it is now my turn to relieve my self all over this shit bag of perverse reality understood by common chyme as, the internet. well fuck that. and fuck this. and fuck me... ill just speak for you.