metamorphosis typhoid enough already! all this waiting peroid has provided is time enough for me to spell my name wrong a few times. esta terminado! me? is now typhoid. graduated from anonymity to personality. 991226 ... uncertainly firm I want to turn into a catipillar 000106 ... Leon construct your mind upon conscience of conscientious...I do. Never before: I do. 000414 ... :o) http://www.cselt.it/ufv/joe/JASDemos/JOEexample2_spanish.mpg 000819 ... Raina My guy MetaMo had the ill flow words so fierce and furious. Wasn't sexually attracted to him but I always noticed when he performed at shows he felt his words so much that it made his member angry. I began to feel them too. 000926 ... Xipe Totec new haircut new clothes new make-up my back no longer aches when i get out of bed and though i've lost a little speed i can still pull off a fair crescent kick...something i haven't even tried since the mishap which left me a near invalid for a few months there are still old scores i want to settle (and they know who they are) but as the summer finally dies, so have some of the worn and broken pieces i feel a resurgence of confidence and maybe even a bit of agression and hunger cut away my roots i've stuck myself in this soil for too long peel away my skin the spring is here 001010 ... unhinged absinthe and franz kafka would your family still love you if you were a giant cockroach? 010128 ... birdmad the old yeller treatment take me out back and squish me 010128 ... paste! ...or "Never fuck with caterpillars" Halfheartedly watching someone’s feet, a caterpillar rests. It used to squirm around looking for solutions but now it just sits around in clear view of the feet of people. This is bullshit, it decides, and stands up, walks off. When it comes from out of the bank the teller is still wondering whether or not it was really a gun or just its finger. The caterpillar uses the wildly inconsecutive and unmarked bills to fly to Cancun for a spell of sunshine and lounging. This is more bullshit, it says, and sneaks under a crack leading to the pilot’s cabin. Excuse me, it says, Can you train me to be a pilot? The co-pilot laughs. The pilot, highly caffeinated, replies, “Well, look here pal, we don’t take too well to caterpillars in this industry. But that’s just a matter of common opinion.” Down at the tower, they believe that throwing peanut shells onto the carpet is bad luck. On the radar screen, the bleep disappears. 020104 ... yummychuckle catarpillars freak me out. they are so fuckiing scary. butterflies can be pretty, and cool, but close up they, too, scare me. i know its *silly*, but they scare me to death. i dont know why. they are so creepy! can anyone relate? i hope so. *shudders* hey, i seem to, like, commas, a, lot, during, this, blathe. 020104 ... .fallen constant evolution enjoying the current manifestation of self 040114 ... 7 & what are children but lil caterpillars someday to morph into butterflies? ok that was weak but man if you saw all the shoes scattered around my house right now you wouldnt think so. 040115 ... sirflaccid When do the emotions morph from painful to frustrating? 050525 ... sop Ovid says hi. Don't stare in the pond too long, you might fall in love with yourself. 060829 ... birdmad these wings are always changing colour and shape i am fractal by design the virus that evolves faster than the drugs designed to kill it summer is fading away and none too soon i'm waiting for the days when i'm as cold as the weather mmmmmm-hmmmm. 060830 ... jane will always remind me of mc escher. a badass mc, by the way. 090202 ... unhinged i currently feel like a cockroach stuck on my back with no one to feed me, flip me over 090202 ... In_Bloom Have you ever been Experienced And are you a junkie now? "... well, I have..." *thanks Jimi* 090202 ... Risen The evolution_of_thought is a type of metamorphosis. It is not that the object of thought changes, it is that the thinker changes, and so begins to understand the object of thought on more levels. The first thought was one born of grief and regret. A sort of "things to do before I die" bucket list. One of which was to throw caution and consequences to the wind and tell someone they were a unique and beautiful diamond in the rough, and someone had noticed that they were special. It was supposed to be a last gift to the world. Next, it was about someone who was in a completely different league. Someone who didn't like any of the things people usually liked about me. In fact, those things were her least favourite things about me. Parental disapprovement, bad girl chic, wild romantic gestures, drama... she saw them as bad habits and poor covering for insecurities long before I did. Sometimes I wonder why someone so intelligent would make the mistake of going anywhere near old me with a ten foot barge pole. Then I remember that the real strength was in getting out while she still could. Before the infection spread. In the later years, she became a symbol of the kind of person I'd meet someday, without all the baggage. Then I went and tried to find someone similar, and I realised just how unique she was. Not a type, to be switched out at will with another, but a true unicorn. Seriously. Five years in the place I thought they grew unicorns, and I never spotted another. The metamorphosis, the evolution of thought, it was about realising that I was not the center of a universe, I was just one of many spinning planets. The empathy, the realisation of how much I hurt people, the regret, the need for redemption, the need to apologise not to be forgiven, but to try to forgive myself. Now, I see it all as a lesson learned. A way of making sure that I never take anyone or anything for granted again. That I know what the genuine article looks like, and I don't want to settle (not that it's an option, but it's the principle of the thing). To one day maybe be worthy of someone like that, even if they aren't around. To know that this me, in my new incarnation, would get it right. From cockroach into human, I suppose. 180816 ... unhinged by richard strauss beautiful 180816 ... unhinged industrial_abandonment 180816 what's it to you? who go blather from