easy lulie How can people be so heartless How can people be so cruel Easy to be hard Easy to be cold How can people have no feelings How can they ignore their friends Easy to be proud Easy to say no And especially people Who care about strangers Who care about evil And social injustice Do you only Care about the bleeding crowd? 020503 ... bespeckled whoa. hee hee 020627 ... hairy pilgrim We Starve Look At One another Walking Proudly in Our Winter Coats Wearing Smells from Laboratories Facing a Dying Nation Of Moving Paper Fantasies Listening for the New Told Lies With extreme visions of Lonelytude Somewhere Inside Myself I feel a Rush Of Greatness Who Knows What stands in Front Of I Fashion My Future from Films in Space Silence Tells Me Secretly Everything Every Thing Singing My Space Songs on a Spider Web Sitar Life is around You And in You Answer for Timothy Leary Dearie Let the Sun Shine Let The Sunshine In The Sun Shine In 020627 ... chaotic.simplicity did i just read this in heartless ?? weird... coincidences frighten me. 020627 ... kerry "what's easy for you?" he asked, squinting and wiping the ink from my skin. it seemed like such a simple nothing-kind-of question. "what do you mean?" he leaned back down, brought the gun to my bicep and i felt the needle digging in, ink flowing into my skin, how many layers i don't know. "like what's easy for me, what's easy is this. tattooing is my side gig. my other job is at a bagel shop. in here," meaning the little pink-painted studio, walls covered in framed drawings and thank-you cards and shelves with trinkets, "i do what i love." beyond the buzz of the tattoo gun i could hear johnny cash on the little bluetooth speaker. he was on a johnny kick, he'd told me. "exercise," i said, surprising myself. he sat up, cracked his back, wiped away more ink. "that's great." "i just put on music and sweat and don't think." i'd never thought working out would become easy, but after several weeks of dutifully unrolling my mat, setting my weights out in a line on the rug, twenty minutes of discomfort followed by a cool shower, it had actually become easy. i got sick, or busy, couldn't move for several days, i realized the grouchiness was largely due to missing my workouts. i began to crave the routine of it all--light breakfast, brush teeth, sweat, that fleeting feeling of invincibility before i step into the shower, my reward. i asked someone else this question-"what's easy for you?"--and was told "nothing, absolutely nothing." and here and there i ask myself again, what is easy? i can usually find something. putting on a record, letting myself do nothing, slicing an apple, making small talk with the woman who runs the little cafe on the 14th floor, watering my plants. when everything feels impossible i try to find one thing that is not. 240904 ... raze i'm trying to remember why i chose to name a tiny song "easy as thigh" half a lifetime ago. i think i wrote the whole thing in my head while i was taking a bath, and i thought the part of the leg that lived between the hip and the knee would be a decent substitute for the expected slice of pie. some truck with gastrointestinal issues grumbled outside while i was triple-tracking my voice. any other time, i would have wiped the part and recorded it again to get rid of the noise. but it made a strange sort of musical sense. so it got to stay. 240908 what's it to you? who go blather from