Monday, October 24, 2005

Where My Eyes Don't Go

This is perfect. It's 12:44pm and I been up since 8am after sleeping since about 5:30am. I'm insane and tired and drinking a pot of coffee before work. Insomnia's a sneaky motherfucker. One minute I'm all grinning and curlin up in my bed for a long fall nap, the next, I'm smoking a cigarette, sitting up staring into the lamp, wondering:


I mean, if you've seen half as many horror or sci/fi movies as I've subjected myself to, you have to have come across the situation a few times. There's a Stephen King short story where a guy gets a circle of eyes on his chest. In THE GATE, that kid gets an eye in his hand after the King Shit demon grabs it, on The Twilight Zone that guy gets one on the back of his head (all tucked in his hair too. that bugs me alot). I seen one on a dude's shoulder on some old sci/fi movie...there's some I'm forgetting, I'm sure, but you get the point...if there is one, anyway.
What continuously crawls up and down my ever-slouched backbone is this:
What would be your perception of that? It's not like you'd feel it open and see it there. I'm thinking your brain would cut a flip in your head when, all of a sudden, your field of vision just went almost completely panoramic. Would it even process correctly right away or would it just be all fuzzy and unfocused?
What if it was in your hand? Where would your perception of the field of vision be located in comparison to where you see from now? Would your reality need to grow a splitscreen? Would there be some kind of visual feedback if you pointed your hand at your face?
I think only a select few minds could handle this. Maybe I'm over-reacting. Maybe you'd just like, stop whatever you were doing at the time and say:
"...Dude...", or maybe...and this seems twice as bad as that first situation...maybe you wouldn't even be able to see out of it.
Immediately, the reaction would be a little easier for your brain to make sense of, because your perception of reality would not be effected...but the question would definately come up at some point:
"Who's Seeing Outta That Thing?", and it's obviously not somebody who put it there to help you, right? I mean, it takes a certain level of evil to be able to go around spontaneously applying new organs to people and getting them all hooked up right, the first time and everything. Pretty much, the most evil muthafucka you can think of still does not have this evil-ability. Let me know, but I doubt it...this is like Lovecraftian, ancient evil type shit. This is the kind of evil that throws science out the window and just does whatever would be scary. This is that evil that comes flying outta the woods, through the cabin and throws Ash up against that fuckin tree and possesses him. This isn't Satanic evil. This is completely Random Evil and it'll fuck Satan up every time cause it can do just whatever's scary at the time and it don't need no opera singers to chant about it when it's around and nobody has to dress up like The Vampire Lestat. It just happens.
I gotta go get dressed for work now. No matter how many times I achieve a state of "not thinking about eyes opening on the back of my head", I know, and accept, that there will be, at least, an equal amount of time spent trying to see what's going on behind me. I just hope I'm not using a knife or playing with fire at the time.
I fuckin hate being me sometimes...

Saturday, October 15, 2005

Is That So Wrong?

all I ever wanted was to define abstract space,

to put my hand out in front of this mortal's face

and point at nothing,
and have these simple human eyes

understand how to look at nothing and see it

instead of what was behind it.
all I ever sought was the origin of wind,

not Easterly or cold and from the north,

but where this particular breeze
 scrapes itself across my frame, thus stunting its tide,

actually originated.
all I ever needed was the simple truth,

if i'm wasting my time in this era of humanity

or if it's necessary that I witness this particular

awkward stage in the growth of mankind

and the universe that envelopes it.
all I ever started all this shit for was to be

the best monkey I could be,

the ugly one with all the stupid questions,

who refers to himself as wz3d,

who tries to look further than his God-given oculars can see,

and differentiate between the puzzle pieces,

the lock and the key,

who's heroes never got to the top of the hill they stormed

but they fell facing forward, Goddamnit.
Who gives a fuck about those other assholes,

who were trained since birth to perpetuate
 the centrifugals that already showed

no sign of slowing, anyway?

of course they had their day.

Their book was already complete before they were born.

All they had to do was follow the steps on the pages torn

until the innevitable end and a comforting blank space,

and now the story's not as important 
as the author's face,
or even his dog's name

and how many other stories he'd already written

before you were even a twinkle in history's pants.
("and i'm just burnin, doin the neutron dance")


Thursday, October 6, 2005

When In Doubt, Whip The Old Shit Out

*I'm riding on a wave of coffee, lortab 10's, extremely aggravating pain in my foot & 12.8 days of ITUNES on shuffle. I could just stare at the monitor or I could go for one of my favorite procrastination-denial tools, which is...recycling shit I wrote years ago when I find something that I can tolerate, cause it's hard to accept that I wasn't always exactly the way I am now. Here's a buncha short crap i dug up a while ago...*

He laughs politely and shrugs the invitation,

"gotta work in the morning, man."

and looks inside for who would make better company.

where have all my friends gone?  

[that's the hermit talking. i hate that dude sometimes]

I'll tell you, shitfuck,

they've gone to feed from the trough of the "haves".

They fuck only choice-cuts of the "well-to-do".

You are not invited.

Your clothes are old and your teeth are yellow,

you've got no 5-year-plan, except:
"Not This".
How far can you stretch the boundaries of a reality 
that has already imprisoned you? 

[i really kinda hate this one now that i've read it and typed it and proof read it. wish i could remember exactly where i was that day]

Wisdom In The Water

Swim to the bottom and time goes there with you

draining blood that man once held sacred,

reckless endangerment is your just inheritance,

slicing at nothing when all that is left

are the half-eaten droppings
of what once was.
They know how to stop it
but no one wants to.
talking and talking
and talking
endless talking.

the truth hurts 
the well employed.      

[ooooohhhh. deep.]
Captain Humanity

Today my name is no one and no one is my name today,

give me your time and I'll take you're time away.
I cannot respond to everyone
I can only save the most important ones,
I can hear you when you cry
but sometimes people have to die...

even the heroes must make a living these days.

Maybe i'm just some creep.
(i've still got feelings)

I'm inside all of you.
(but you can't be allowed)

cats out of trees,
old folks across the street,
I'll save the world,
and then you'll like me.

I pretend i'm bigger than something you can't be bigger than,

recognize your need for superiority, but you must believe:

I am all there is until the day you pass,

a concept just beyond your grasp...

Sometimes God answers your prayers through the actions of man.

Sometimes God speaks in a language you won't understand.
Captain Humanity
(i won't die sleeping)
I'm inside all of you
(we help no one)

cats out of trees,
old folks across the street,
I'll save the world,
and then you'll like me.
why don't you like me?  

[this is a song I wrote for me & B4A while he was beginning what would be the Moon Fly Syrup lp. There's a half-ass decent recording of it somewhere. I'll put it up on my Myspace]

i was up all night, thinking of a way to tell you:

spontaneity is dead in the world. 

[seemed funny at the time]

Every last thread of clothing I own is either stained or torn.

My car makes weird noises.

My house is a temple to the gods of fast food 
and cigarette butts past.

You'd better accept me for who I am 
unless you're looking to use me for my Playstation.

[this was during the first 6 months i lived in the cave and all I had was a beanbag and abuncha movies and a playstation]

Taking a shit is like a report card for the day before. 

[i was hanging out with James X and that's just the kind of conversations we seem to have] 

9 years. you will be my greatest failure. 

[i'd love to know what the hell was going on here.]

Some guys can hook up car stereos.

Some guys can give a woman an orgasm.

I suck at hooking up car stereos. 

[hell yeah! i must've been pretty full of myself that day. what can i say? i'm hoping that whoever made me feel like that wasn't faking it to make me try harder. HAH!]

the first time they meet - they know that it's no passing thing.

the first time they laugh - they understand

the first time they fall - they shove their fists into the wall

and vow that this end may not beseach them again.

the first time they smile - instinct guides them all the while

the first time they win - they can't lose

the first time life - reveals it's hidden teeth to them

they shove their heads into the sand 
and set fire to their muse. 

[this was gonna be this Bad Religion-sounding punk song, but I chunked it cause it sounded too much like Bad Religion. Go figure. I like some of these words, though]

they've come to collect the bodies

and tally up the winnings,
the spoils of victory
  will gather dust in trophy rooms
to serve as examples to the world:
"my consumers are my asset.
don't fuck with production." 

[i'm so political, dude]

gaping, toothless kiss

with that slight spattering of saliva,

that never bothered to be swallowed,

and now strings its participants

like a tether, conjoining disgusted lips

to something resembling a badly abused vagina. 

[i don't know, man. maybe i was trying to gross myself out or maybe i was way drunk at Changes right before that and some disgusting-ass bar hag made out with me. neither would surprise me]

"here is your special sauce."

"it's new and improved."

"it's fun to eat."

"it's an after-school treat."

"9 out of 10 moms choose it over the leading brand."

what's the matter with you?

eat it, Goddammit. 

[i always felt cheated when things just weren't as fun to eat as the kids in the commercial made it look]

If ever we should meet

in that far-away land that we both 
claim to dream of,

turn your eyes away
 and pretend not to know me.

If i'm going to be someone I'm not,

I don't want you to screw it up for me. 

[this is about one of those "friends" that you're not sure when you accumulated them...they just kinda were there...and they try so hard to convince you that they see everything exactly the same way you do but it just smacks of bullshit]

It starts all over every time i see you.

I don't expect you to love me,

I just try so hard to wish it 
into existance,

that I trick myself into believing

that it should have worked.
like a mad scientist
struggling to find the formula
of you,
until he has exhausted
his useless resources,
and still has no clue
of how to attain
the unattainable,
or why he should just stop trying.
I can't stop trying. 

[Jesus Fuck...I purposely buried this in the back because of it's undeniably gay content. Sorry to drag you through that if you went along for the ride, but I like that it says "I can't stop trying." All dramatic and shit and now, I'm sitting here trying to remember exactly who it's about. Guess i CAN stop, but I bet I wouldn't have listened to that at the time.]