she said "I'll throw myself away"
"They're just photos after all"
Outside the frame is what we're leavin' out
You won't remember
Anyway-
I can Go With The Flow
But don't say it doesn't matter anymore
I can go with the flow
You believe it in your head?
It's so safe to play along
Little soldiers in a row
Something sweet to throw away
But I want something good to die for
To make it beautiful to live
in your head
I can go with the flow
But it doesn't matter
QOTSA music video (RealPlayer)
so this is the remix. the remix edit here on may 12th, 2004 a.d.- 1 week beyond posting the original on 'cinco de mayo', and 12 days until my birthday/5 days before sexy/beautiful bailey's to include parts of the lyrical gaps in the above and add the audio/video aspect, not that anyone who sees it could care or make sense of what i'm trying to say- but i try, i keep trying. it's a little effort perhaps, little and cute like stormy or elara or bee or katie, and perhaps i'll add a poem if the spirit moves me to sometime today- more redundant words to try to serve as an example of what's lacking. or maybe if fate comes a' knockin- which is to say if it's already been written today along this timeline of sensory perception, and it's meant to happen- perhaps i may finally open the sealed box somewhere in the mess of shit behind me right now that contains the little korg synth i have yet to use and start to write that song i said to louise i'd compose using my visual and textual impression of her on this site sometime before time is over.
words and pictures on a page in cyberspace... virtual space... virtually real. it's a lot like life. more pictures, more words. more redundancy. more worthlessness. it is ^hilarious^, isn't it, flux, my favorite little "information" genius and affable ball of desire? and i needn't even bother with any representation in spanish or russian or even a shape that can be redrawn repeatedly in a pattern that spirals into infinity- or, at least, the 4th dimension, right, my favorite adorable little new age-minded fractal? (the 5th dimension of being is beyond being- a reversal of consciousness itself, therby beyond representation in geometry or any information at all).
i saw myself once in the eyes of a black cat. it was a hot summer night when i was in the midst of experiencing the freezing cold fire of recognition in understanding the shape of things. the cat was sleek and svelte and beautiful, and i could feel its anxiety and fury as it darted across the parking lot like a flash of lightning. a surge of magic rushed through me as it suddenly stopped and froze and we locked eyes. little moments like that- or the moments i spend around anyone or anything (and yes, even television too, bailey) every day of the life that contain blind actions from other people and things that are usually so subtle that it's useless to attempt to try and call attention to them- are the most truth about the unity in the single entity of all things that i can ever really expect from any single thing in this seemingly "ironically wicked" prison of time/space/forms of matter that only "exists" as a reflection of itself.
awareness is an illusion. a big, slobbering, stupid fucking dog. like people. like god- only... backwards, you know? or like satan. well, same difference. omnipotent. but knowing everything about anything is only knowing all there is to know about nothing. but the dog isn't me, it's you. well, same difference.
there have been moments i've thought this site was a godsend- pictures on a website of forms of impossible potential- impossible to even hope for a response more often than not. jesus fucking christ i've been commenting in erin's journal ever since i joined back in december 2002, when she was still going by the username "veronica", and gotten back nothing- not even so much as a "go fuck yourself"- i'd be thankful even for that. or i could use iggy as an example from more recent times. but it's just a goddamn website, and i'm just a fool. and so are all of you. well, same thing.
see you in the funny papers,
x
"They're just photos after all"
Outside the frame is what we're leavin' out
You won't remember
Anyway-
I can Go With The Flow
But don't say it doesn't matter anymore
I can go with the flow
You believe it in your head?
It's so safe to play along
Little soldiers in a row
Something sweet to throw away
But I want something good to die for
To make it beautiful to live
in your head
I can go with the flow
But it doesn't matter
QOTSA music video (RealPlayer)
so this is the remix. the remix edit here on may 12th, 2004 a.d.- 1 week beyond posting the original on 'cinco de mayo', and 12 days until my birthday/5 days before sexy/beautiful bailey's to include parts of the lyrical gaps in the above and add the audio/video aspect, not that anyone who sees it could care or make sense of what i'm trying to say- but i try, i keep trying. it's a little effort perhaps, little and cute like stormy or elara or bee or katie, and perhaps i'll add a poem if the spirit moves me to sometime today- more redundant words to try to serve as an example of what's lacking. or maybe if fate comes a' knockin- which is to say if it's already been written today along this timeline of sensory perception, and it's meant to happen- perhaps i may finally open the sealed box somewhere in the mess of shit behind me right now that contains the little korg synth i have yet to use and start to write that song i said to louise i'd compose using my visual and textual impression of her on this site sometime before time is over.
words and pictures on a page in cyberspace... virtual space... virtually real. it's a lot like life. more pictures, more words. more redundancy. more worthlessness. it is ^hilarious^, isn't it, flux, my favorite little "information" genius and affable ball of desire? and i needn't even bother with any representation in spanish or russian or even a shape that can be redrawn repeatedly in a pattern that spirals into infinity- or, at least, the 4th dimension, right, my favorite adorable little new age-minded fractal? (the 5th dimension of being is beyond being- a reversal of consciousness itself, therby beyond representation in geometry or any information at all).
i saw myself once in the eyes of a black cat. it was a hot summer night when i was in the midst of experiencing the freezing cold fire of recognition in understanding the shape of things. the cat was sleek and svelte and beautiful, and i could feel its anxiety and fury as it darted across the parking lot like a flash of lightning. a surge of magic rushed through me as it suddenly stopped and froze and we locked eyes. little moments like that- or the moments i spend around anyone or anything (and yes, even television too, bailey) every day of the life that contain blind actions from other people and things that are usually so subtle that it's useless to attempt to try and call attention to them- are the most truth about the unity in the single entity of all things that i can ever really expect from any single thing in this seemingly "ironically wicked" prison of time/space/forms of matter that only "exists" as a reflection of itself.
awareness is an illusion. a big, slobbering, stupid fucking dog. like people. like god- only... backwards, you know? or like satan. well, same difference. omnipotent. but knowing everything about anything is only knowing all there is to know about nothing. but the dog isn't me, it's you. well, same difference.
there have been moments i've thought this site was a godsend- pictures on a website of forms of impossible potential- impossible to even hope for a response more often than not. jesus fucking christ i've been commenting in erin's journal ever since i joined back in december 2002, when she was still going by the username "veronica", and gotten back nothing- not even so much as a "go fuck yourself"- i'd be thankful even for that. or i could use iggy as an example from more recent times. but it's just a goddamn website, and i'm just a fool. and so are all of you. well, same thing.
see you in the funny papers,
x
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did you know that?