23 Nov 2012

filigree

the grandest miracle of all... is how mundane everything seems... prostifunkstication, prestidigitation, californication, better red than dead --- the cup of life's got a hole in it ,,, if you listen closely, on a still twilight under a waxing gibbous moon, you can hear the douglas firs, moaning on my behalf, about that tequila i spilled in 2005 ___ oh, what a waste === i'll never get that agave back +++ i donated it to the groundwater of the salmo river ranch

it was the plain truth that in and around blinking things being bought by 'tards of varying stripes and bars there was a "brutal" time being had by this girl we were camping with - i found it cathartic to hear her say that, it was brutal, i'm sure, for her, and i would be there soon myself

and now i'm here, a different vantage, survived another seven years and it's almost time for Terence and the Mayans' end of the world calendrical concresence, the blueberry in the bagel, and i'm pretty sure nothing in particular’s gonna happen - thy kingdom come? thy will be done? i dunno, i still got shit i wanna do, i got projects, and i think it'll take me longer than til december 21st to get a good start on them - i got retirement years, god willing, i paid payroll tax for a fucking pension, and the 1% still think i'm a slacker who only wants hand-outs, and i think a good 40 or 50% of these people are in partial sympathy with that sentiment

in any case, it's an oddly familiar feeling of dank strangeness triggering verbosity on a flat landscape rendered in minimalist acrylic hue so frowned upon by the art establishment, oddly familiar, after so long in a squirming coil of failed missions to alpha centauri, oddly familiar to feel the possibility of a continuum spanning days, maybe weeks, where there isn't a big drama about whether i'm gonna do the life-and-death, win-lose-or-draw sobriety intoxication drama with the stately blue book in all its heft looming like a retrograde monolith - it's besides the point, it's just living in a gloomy muck of my own sick thoughts, but welcoming depression as an old friend, taking the dizzying step of admitting i'm in a rut, even if it sounds like i think that all the time, when really i don't

it's just crazy vantage, networked by vonage, chalk full of binders, more chalk than calcium, more chalk than vitamins, chalk it up to a temporary filigree, skydiving past the end-zone, gravity-assisted weightless showboat minstrel jive, plummet, thud, filigree for a wanna-be husky petroleum geologist detective hobo

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