wow. i'm having a difficult time with this new layout. on the front page it seemed simpler and better organized. now i've realized that it is complex and weird. or i'm on the wrong end of the learning curve 
down but not out!!!
To be lost, to capsize. Desire of the fall, desire which is the push and pull of the fall. And whoever falls is not one, but several. Multiple fall. Each one restrains himself, clinging to an other, an other who is himself and is the dissolution-the dispersion-of the self, and the restraint is pure haste, panicky flight, death outside death.
-Blanchot
To be lost, to capsize. Desire of the fall, desire which is the push and pull of the fall. And whoever falls is not one, but several. Multiple fall. Each one restrains himself, clinging to an other, an other who is himself and is the dissolution-the dispersion-of the self, and the restraint is pure haste, panicky flight, death outside death.
-Blanchot
it's been so long since i've updated...been recording alot, and avoiding people who have made my life confusing and sad...coping with the fact that may have suffered a mild stroke...staring out the window alot...been having nightmares...never been more miserable...tired.
dear...
the rainy season has emerged with a thud of gusts and deaths, and i listen to the song about john wayne gacy. i read you passages from mallarme while the floors creaked above us and the cat screamed in fear. he was lost that night. sometimes, i see his doppleganger. the black squirrel has died, the windchimes are silent from decay. the hum of dying streetlights. tulips have retreated from their premature births and will not come back this summertime. to see these thngs is to quiet the inner life, to live a shadow self. light within and light without, colorless and devoid of final form. i did'nt speak because i did'nt know what to say. i am more familiar with silence, anyway. all of my photos of the sun are black pinholes...
the rainy season has emerged with a thud of gusts and deaths, and i listen to the song about john wayne gacy. i read you passages from mallarme while the floors creaked above us and the cat screamed in fear. he was lost that night. sometimes, i see his doppleganger. the black squirrel has died, the windchimes are silent from decay. the hum of dying streetlights. tulips have retreated from their premature births and will not come back this summertime. to see these thngs is to quiet the inner life, to live a shadow self. light within and light without, colorless and devoid of final form. i did'nt speak because i did'nt know what to say. i am more familiar with silence, anyway. all of my photos of the sun are black pinholes...
dear...
i think i've lost you. the outline of your disappearance envelopes the darkness that enfolds it. i attempt you and your vanishingto where there is funereal silence and dust. and then sometimes you trickle into me. you trickle into me, and i stop thinking. no more exhalation. no more cessation embrace uncertain pagination dead. don't swans always seem so distant? we are tired. we are immanent i put tiny glass bottles where you can't read them. i am wet with you iamimpossiblewithyou you are impossible. i expected you never to arrive, but now you have left, soon.
i miss you for your vastness, your repitition , your illusory self, your padded body, i can't do much more. i'm sorry.
i think i've lost you. the outline of your disappearance envelopes the darkness that enfolds it. i attempt you and your vanishingto where there is funereal silence and dust. and then sometimes you trickle into me. you trickle into me, and i stop thinking. no more exhalation. no more cessation embrace uncertain pagination dead. don't swans always seem so distant? we are tired. we are immanent i put tiny glass bottles where you can't read them. i am wet with you iamimpossiblewithyou you are impossible. i expected you never to arrive, but now you have left, soon.
i miss you for your vastness, your repitition , your illusory self, your padded body, i can't do much more. i'm sorry.
thank you all for the birthday wishes! you guys shine a little light in these ohsodarkcorners! 
had to work though, slow as usual. the day crawled by painfully...but, i went out to dinner with by family and then joyfully proceeded to do nothing. watched equilibriumand played phone tag with a friend. joyful day.
had to work though, slow as usual. the day crawled by painfully...but, i went out to dinner with by family and then joyfully proceeded to do nothing. watched equilibriumand played phone tag with a friend. joyful day.
dear...,
i wrote a poem for you, and tore it up, because it meant nothing. i can't write anymore, i just draw words. pictograms of the impossible. i left them everywhere; on ashes, on moth wings, on voltages, and the crushing of salt. i burned them and ate them with the day's dust. transparent ogling objects. i reached out to touch your elbow, and you backed forward. i saw myself, near weeping, filming myself and other pulsing lights. we drank ruthlessly and blinded ourselves on death, visual transfusion, current, and dusted snow. we drank, and listened to my envorinments. the hum was low, steady, and burning with error. we drank, and our bodies took the shape of morse code. binary. dissolving, projections of ourselves shifting and fading into walls. i filmed myself, with white breath and floating eyes. i know i'm forgetable, you don't have to remind me.
dear...,
i ended it the way i started it. so i would never have to finish it. so i would'nt have to write another one.
i wrote a poem for you, and tore it up, because it meant nothing. i can't write anymore, i just draw words. pictograms of the impossible. i left them everywhere; on ashes, on moth wings, on voltages, and the crushing of salt. i burned them and ate them with the day's dust. transparent ogling objects. i reached out to touch your elbow, and you backed forward. i saw myself, near weeping, filming myself and other pulsing lights. we drank ruthlessly and blinded ourselves on death, visual transfusion, current, and dusted snow. we drank, and listened to my envorinments. the hum was low, steady, and burning with error. we drank, and our bodies took the shape of morse code. binary. dissolving, projections of ourselves shifting and fading into walls. i filmed myself, with white breath and floating eyes. i know i'm forgetable, you don't have to remind me.
dear...,
i ended it the way i started it. so i would never have to finish it. so i would'nt have to write another one.
things to do in lew of watching films:
-cry about how difficult it is to interact with the real world.
-write in your journal about it in order to guilt-trip the friend who put you up to it after you die.
-write melodramatic essays about it for the same purpose
-go to art shows and museums and be astounded when the pictures don't move
-spend the time you would be at the cinema in video stores.
-go on a shockingly unsucessful date, and then brush up on finger puppetry
-consider going on one of those, 'i'm a loser, so i have to go fnd all of my ex-girlfriends and find out where it went wrong' trip.
-finally sit down and read that inpenetrable deleuze book you put down six months ago
-become heavily bearded
-watch bunny rabbits from your front porch in the freezing cold. imagine that it is porn and a cold shower at the same time.
-fall for the one girl you've met in over a year, who blows you away with the line: 'i could watch the same movie over and over again for the rest of my life.' find out that she is more reclusive and psychotic than you. write a list of films that will save her from her horrible fate.
-program a synthesizer, and forget to save.
-take despondent pictures of yourself on your camera phone. make a flipbook out of them.
-go to bars alone. flash a flashlight through your empty glass, imagining that you are tony conrad, and you are writing a stage version of the flicker.
-try to find a fucking bathroom in goddamn wicker park! i dare you.
-apply to art school. yes, hurt your mother real bad.
-beg your mean friend to let you watch an opera on dvd. neglect to tell her it was directed by bergman
-become really needy with a another close female friend. ramp it up until you have to have an unecessary "the talk"
-go see the new haneke film anyway. there. you cheated.
-cry about how difficult it is to interact with the real world.
-write in your journal about it in order to guilt-trip the friend who put you up to it after you die.
-write melodramatic essays about it for the same purpose
-go to art shows and museums and be astounded when the pictures don't move
-spend the time you would be at the cinema in video stores.
-go on a shockingly unsucessful date, and then brush up on finger puppetry
-consider going on one of those, 'i'm a loser, so i have to go fnd all of my ex-girlfriends and find out where it went wrong' trip.
-finally sit down and read that inpenetrable deleuze book you put down six months ago
-become heavily bearded
-watch bunny rabbits from your front porch in the freezing cold. imagine that it is porn and a cold shower at the same time.
-fall for the one girl you've met in over a year, who blows you away with the line: 'i could watch the same movie over and over again for the rest of my life.' find out that she is more reclusive and psychotic than you. write a list of films that will save her from her horrible fate.
-program a synthesizer, and forget to save.
-take despondent pictures of yourself on your camera phone. make a flipbook out of them.
-go to bars alone. flash a flashlight through your empty glass, imagining that you are tony conrad, and you are writing a stage version of the flicker.
-try to find a fucking bathroom in goddamn wicker park! i dare you.
-apply to art school. yes, hurt your mother real bad.
-beg your mean friend to let you watch an opera on dvd. neglect to tell her it was directed by bergman
-become really needy with a another close female friend. ramp it up until you have to have an unecessary "the talk"
-go see the new haneke film anyway. there. you cheated.
SEPTEMBER 2006
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AUGUST 2006
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JULY 2006
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JUNE 2006