Found Poetry

Emo

how much life sucks
as a bike messenger
and how things just aren't the same
since they lost that Tolstoy novel
from the library and got fined.
Either that, or they'll start crying
into their soy-chai-double- mocha-latte-chinos
(with extra sprinkles).

Flagella?

The story begins here and I am no physicist. I am many things: I am a eukaryote ("always put 'an' before a word with a vowel, and 'a' before a word with a consonant" they used to say), an animal, a primate, a genius to an ant, a moron to a remarkable human, an inventor with every word and step, a descendent, a resident, feasible and, in some infinity frames of reference, already dead. I am a Sistine Chapel, an imitable failure, a collusion, a student, a doctor, a lawyer, a Bach compisition (either J.S. or P.D.Q.), foresight, Lichtenstein, a thinker, a codec for the deterministic predilections of a dice-throwing God. Some days I am in love and then I am a chair, a dreamer, a phallus. Sometimes I have family and I am a son, or a brother. Sometimes I have friends and I am a neon sign, a protege, a caulking gun, an indigent crossing guard. Sometimes I am alone and then I am a living incarnation of a desire to be anything else coupled with the warmest comfort alone can give a man and sometimes that in itself is stronger and better than any love or familial obligation to be together or friendship could ever offer. Everything gets personfied when it becomes lacquered with the experiences of time and time itself is no different. What was yesterday? The versions of time given by any observer are just the nows of an observer, such as myself. I put on my overcoat and walked into winter, my teeth chattered rhythms like a morse code message sent from me to me. I'm putting on my overcoat and I am walking into winter. My teeth are chattering a rhythm like a morse code message sent from me to me. I'll put on my overcoat and walk into winter, my teeth will chatter rhythms, like a morse code message sent from me to me. etc, but with better, less whiny musicians.

Obsessives In The Law That I Bought

So today I had planned to be better but I ordered Wing Machine and the wings made me sick, then I went to eat strawberries and they were rotten. Then I decided to watch a movie I'd downloaded called "Slackers", expecting some kind of Mallrats-esque hip comedy. Instead it was a terrible college movie with few glimpses of anything approaching interesting. You know there's a problem when you find yourself about physics instead of watching. So I decided "fuck this, I'm drinking" and now here we are. I do wonder what I'm coming to at times. This sort of crippled feeling was gone for years before but I suppose it's both easy to understand where it's coming from and an easy excuse to settle into the ease of acting/feeling defeated.

Jordan the sandpaper and dadblast the ecumenical liberalism that failed us instead o

So I've spent a lot of time recently thinking about god (God). My views have not changed, I'm an agnostic only in the technical philosophical sense. In other words, I think god (to say nothing of God) is on the same scale of probability as the world being the imagination of a cosmic corn flake still in the box. I love arguing with easy targets sometimes. That's the 'fun' in 'fundamentalist' right there. I miss my girlfriend's friend Christine, because her arguments are so wonderful to dissect. The best part is when she answers unrelated questions with "Jesus loves us." I'm not making this up. But everyone knows Christianity is outrageous; I really don't need to point it out here.

I like things that completely escape my understanding. For example, in a singularity in the shape of the planck length with incredible mass outside of which there's no universe, space and time are more or less the same thing. Yep. Space, like distance and stuff, and time, the thing that passes, are the same. Yeah, that makes sense. Stupid string theory - it's hard to know what to think with you! I'd rather feed you to my pennybox. Nnnn red and gree nad orange drinky. Random thoughts are always stupid. Here are some random thoughts.

1) Using death to kill someone is like using the weight of the sun to crush a fly.
b) I don't think saying "epilogue" is really necessary unless the author being pretentious and putting it at the start of the story or something. We know it's at the end of the story - how stupid do you think your audience is? Let's see, it starts at page 535, goes until page 549, which is the end of the book, and deals with events and characters two years after the gist of the story. Is it...the introduction? Fuckin' authors.
c) Hawks and doves. Game theory. Status. Yesterday's insights are today's cliches.

I dont' fele funny or clever at the moment, which is a shame because sometimes i do. Creative block? Writer's confluence? Failures are somewhat now!