Wednesday, July 2, 2008

I would very much love my life to be like Pierrot le fou. I want to just run around town and commite crimes and steal gasoline for my stolen cars. I want to drive stolen cars into the water and do things like paint my face blue like Jean Paul Belmondo.

Thursday, June 26, 2008



"I want you to go away"
"why is that my dear?"
"because you remind me of everything that is wrong with me"

I don’t wish to win the lottery, why on earth would I want to be stoned to death.

He gathered all of the noise makers, and we danced like the maenads did for Dionysus. There were pictures of your dead grandfather all over the ground, and I didn’t want you to see them so I hid them underneath the couch. When I first met your grandfather we were dressed in black, and he said we looked like the 60’s.

Sometimes everybody needs a good cry, but what would I do then?

He took me to meet his father on Saturday of 2004. His father’s wife took my coat and we all sat to watch the evening news. He reached for my hand when the news man talked about a child being put in a bag and dying in a dumpster. I didn’t like the news reports, I preferred watching men cry on the futbol field with a black and white ball. This only lasted a little while like a predicted because once he saw the episodes i would encounter the earth stopped moving and those days i wasn't so lovely.

Tuesday, June 24, 2008

Monday, June 23, 2008


I've lost my mind, somewhere on that walk this morning. It might have been the heatwave but all I could do was crawl into the couch with the air conditioner on FULL BLAST. I listened to BE KIND REWIND in the backround as I slept and had these beautiful Michel Gondry type dreams. They consisted of little things moving, you know what type of little things, very small bright blue objects and a typewriter that turned into a spider. In the yester-evening some people came over and we had after hours talks about global warming and geography. Ryan played the guitar and he sings really pretty. I've been listening to Leonard Cohen all day, he makes me want to be a better person. The kind of person you write ridiculously beautiful songs about/for. I've been thinking alot about it and it never seems to leave my mind. YOUR BRAIN IS REALLY SOMETHING.

Saturday, June 21, 2008



I really would like to visit Bukowski's grave this weekend. Angela once went with three friends of hers and they got drunk and lyed around the gravesite. She told me about his tombstone and of course only Hank himself would have a quote that reads "Don't Try" on his tombstone. I always wonder about him. I've read a ton of his work and have watched all sorts of footage about him yet I still really want to know more. There was this guy Joshua once that told me about meeting his wife in San Pedro. She invited him in and showed him photographs of the two of them. He said she seemed very lonely, yet very funny about it. She was almost like "Hey look I'm really lonely and sad isn't it funny?!". People like that can frighten me, mostly because they have become so used to their lonliness that they don't better their situation. I'm not saying she isn't bettering her situation at all but I don't really know what I'm trying to say. People really think they know everything about a person. They make up these crazy assumptions in their heads and a simple gesture can be a million things to another person. I don't really care too much about anything these days, I just want to watch really badly written films, and listen to really good music.