RIEN DE RIEN


:maintenant que la glace est rompue, causons
^haha
if you grow up in phnom penh you have a 75% chance of having used meth by the age of 18 and a ~50% chance of being addicted to it

there is all these blogs out here in blogworld and these blogs are lil psychological cross-sections is so cool and very moving too:
not many, but, http://sforde.blogspot.com/, cranberry oak, is a litter of darling emotional depth and selfreflective dissonance

tinydancer, i couldnt narrow down a best of her blorgs so here's her profile all this is precisely the shay the internet was made for

i wonder if anyone i know has ever felt 'nature was screaming in my blood' but the prolly ha'nt: katie definilly has

it's like unfettered self-expression http://mkevans09.blogspot.com/ it's like rain on your wedding day!


And if you don't like it than fuck you jack.


hey
self-transcendence whatthefuck does that even mean jack
-There are a number of people clustered in a certain age group who are quite taken with the fact that I once uttered the immortal line "I have ridden the mighty moon worm!"-
FUTURESHOCK: you know when you go to a nother country you get culture shock? whambam thanka you maam

detka! detka! detka?




-Saint Etienne's Bob Stanley says of his effort that he believes London's old cafes play a crucial part in the city's life. "London is more and more segregated," he says. "Starbucks doesn't have all different sorts of people mixing. But in the proper London cafe you'll get City workers, workmen, bohemians, all together - all sorts of people, especially in the cafes that have been around for generations."

prexactly! thas why they're so mildmannered n idea-exchangey, awrrright

proclaim! this shit is gold and i am its translator
arrest! this shit is gold and i am its translator
beware! this shit is gold and i am its translator
beknownst! this shit is gold and i am its translator
undress! this shit is gold and i am her lover

pd putting serge-ee-oh feels shitty

i'n frm a place jacent t' whur da crowd stans Whur aww da witches r fayyaproof n ever preacha's a madman


the original bobby brown(ing)
BWAHH BWAHH BWAHH BWAHH

i'm deficially claiming my major as psychonautics wouldn that be cool

compartmentalization -> departmentalization/ -> fragmentation?
is it practical to compartmentalize and subsequently departmentalize those little fragmented psyches?
i like that then arrange the little compartments artfully and their synthesis is pretty:

daily feel good or day they feel good


Do *people* ever write *love* stories about validation? the love of one invalid to another? because this is the story this is the "way" (the way-it-is). series of validations and recognitions and -connaissances.

one brewin up in here up in here and it's about 'karl karl karl' so 'ever ee buddy' he is, and some girl x who has net yet to be constructed but she's very postmodern and everything is very postmodern she her identity is n/a because she is too n/a to be recognized by any other single identity, a forest cannot recognize a tree in a mirror but only a forest, and so too her mother and her girlfriend and her bestfriend are benign in their love
thus! karl karl karl the embodiment of everyone that he is, their love and recognition and carnal relatskinships, their reflection(ss), unjudged in his eyes yield the recognition of herself in his (upon-closer,intimate-inspection-affected) pupils: as she too is no body, but repercussions and/of individual's-deconstruction ("thrift stores" urban apparel borrow`ed clothes)

-characters' so ill-defined so unfortunate so amalgamated: does the piston see itself in the mirror or can only the four-stroke be seen (if we're looking for consumerism ignition, does then one of this pistons burst and disengage and rust in the countryside(or the ocean)),
does the wine see only her bottle?

::fastforward, time travel, 180 halfcab nosemanuel: that's maya angelou up there she's smarter wiser everything cerebral'r than the previous people
i've ever heard speak, and i had lunch with john mccain.
she talks about communication and that's what i like and she uses and bottle metaphor which is what else i lykke. i'm using maya angelou


i'm feeling wretched right now do you know wretched? it comes from "wretch" which meant adventurer at some point, and then got turned into "exilee." isnt that a good story? that word has a better story than a lot of people

FEMINISM//JESSIE//ALEXAM//SUKI (fourth, four: ...the importance of the woman! ie the usercomment):

brief interview #46
"Alls I was trying to say is you have to be careful of taking a knee-jerk attitude about violence and degradation in the case of women also. Having a knee jerk attitude about anything is a total mistake, that’s what I’m saying especially in the case of women, where it adds up to this very limited condescending thing of saying they’re fragile or breakable things and can be destroyed so easily. Like we have to wrap them in cotton and protect them more than everybody else. That it’s knee-jerk and condescending. I’m talking about dignity and respect, not treating them like they’re fragile little dolls or whatever. Everybody gets hurt and violated and broken sometimes, why are women so special?"

pray for the ppl inside yer head

-:-a generation that has been taught that rain is poison and sex is death? If making love might be fatal and if a cool spring breeze on any summer afternoon can turn a crystal blue lake into a puddle of black poison right in front of your eyes, there is not much left except TV and relentless masturbation
what matters most is how well you rock through the fire [shralp]
-It/s in his/ nature/ you know-
I met a vixen recently.
"What?" gulp,
Yeah, that kind of specter that incarnates every dousand years and only for the minutiae of a memory zipped-by on the freeway, shotgunned up there in some unknowable way.
"What?"
What? She luscious "if you know what I mean" in my head and in my hands. I'm not sure if I'm allowed to love her "like the broncos," his socks slip out, leaving must behind; rubber-soled, they ferment beneath his hairy calves, but my blood's all filled-up and I want it to mingle.
"Yahh too bad it won't work out"
Why not?
Why is is it so close so consistently? What is the gray area? What does it feel like with a grizzly bear and a mirror? "Englightened"
livedlike a fucking-Aladdeen
:: i used to watch all them all auld cowboy movies or even those kungfu movies and they would talk about living handtomouth and i was always thinking how sweeet and rad and untempered they must be but no it's balls and it's miserable and there's a reason milton wrote a book called paradise lost three hundy years ago, but don't call it a comeback

ther's all ways// sunshine above// the grey sky i will// try to finde it



bye: robinson /madman/ jeffers

: : : SOME distant distant relative with hair combed there and a rentatux comes over to my step great great uncle Nice party John he says a loud voice.
I dislike that when people assume that all old people (ie 65 years of age andor above) are hardonhearing. Even if the man they are talking is at one hundred two, they still shouldn't do.
John my step great great uncle is sixtyeight I think though. He has a headful of grey hair, and a tux. I personally think he could give a damn about this party, Frankly I'm not thinking he wants be here. My step great great uncle (John) is able to have these big parties because he is or was the guy who creates or created all the golfball technology for Callaway golf, a very famous and prestigious golf company, Supposedly there is a lot of money in the game especially around now in times like these in this bull market. My step great great uncle owns or did own seven golf courses around the world.
He is real successful and very rich; the problem with money is makes person and everyone the person weird. Or paranoid.
I mean say if a "distant distant" relative, or a "long lost" relative comes by. Fishie.
The people around that person are to get paranoid about this "distant distant" or "long lost" relative. The people around this rich person will say something.
But I mean who cares what that person wastes his money on I mean it's just not of anybody else's business and more importantly it's not their money to worry abo.

: : : HERE I am sitting just trying get thru the night these woodenchairs that are too big and too low with a bunch of distant relatives that I have just trying to thru the night.
I say Hi to these people who have no values then they say something maybe like Oh who are you then? Yah my moms married Hunter Boyles. Then they might say Hey who is that? I will go Oh that is the great nephew of my step great great uncle John and they will go Oh right John.
I mean I like this party setting in all but nobody likes these distant distant relative I am sitting with. Casey is wearing a long dress she is the worst she has a nametag which we were all supposed get name tags but they were not out onto a table until after most of us arrived.
Most of them even brought a guest. I mean I don't know what the invitation sa, but I assume it only invited the person who got the invitation.
I ask my step dad who is the great nephew of my step great great uncle John about those distant distant relatives and he looks at my mom, his sister, his brother all sitting to his left on some lawn chairs and he says Who them? then I say Yeah.
Squinting, the sun was there too, trying to see them he says I don't know who they are Hunter Boyles says to the everyone on his right Probably business associates.
The sun falls down fast faster than a lamborghini.
My step great great uncle John gets up from his chair that is around his table of other empty chairs except his third wife Fea Sayers and he whispers to her.

: : : WHEN they got married it was a really big deal that Fea Sayers would not take my step great great uncle last name. So when they got married the priest said I now pronounce you husband and wife, then he stated their names: Fea Sayers.
Fea Sayers made such a ripple in the Boyles Family lake. My step great great uncle John gets up and heads to the bathroom I know because I followed him.
Have you ever heard the term, time flies when you're.
The saying should go, Time flies when in a state of deep focus. It is basically the same thing as having fun it's just mine sounds better.
I tell this to my step great great uncle John when he is on the way to the bathroom but I don't think he can hear me probably.
You see when I was in my deep deep focus outside the bathroom door my step great great uncle John had an aneurysm. I sitting there when a distant distant relative or maybe a long lost relative or maybe business associated cared or didn't care where my step great great uncle John was. He even asked me Hey do you know where John is.
I was so my state of focus. The funny thing is that my state of focus didn't mean anything. I was thinking about where I could have been I could have been with my friends sipping on margaritas and body shots off of beautiful women. I think of this stuff because I would like to do it.
When they found my step great great uncle John he was bleeding out the ears with his dog hanging out of pants with a hand on the floor in a pool of piss and blood on the tile next to the stall he was in.
His other hand was over his old saggy dog with grey pubic hair around his dog and balls. I was just staring at his dog. Fea Sayers was among the crowd looking not crying not with him but she was in such a state of focus she was probably thinking about where she could be. Maybe with her friends sipping on margar and body shots off of beautiful wom. Or even she could have been thinking of the diamonds and missing the when she was still youngish.
I was staring at his dog and on his old grey leg you could even see a faded, gross tattoo that I think said something like Property of Ethel, I mean it's cool he got a tattoo of a woman's name that he loved and the problem isn't the name Ethel, the problem is the tattoo.
bye: gracie /shark/ nixon