kissing_the_flame raze i'm tired, but i can't sleep so my life becomes my dream my feet are made of glass they sift through scarlet grass 071011 ... crOwl it seems a tragedy almost, that this was your last post. and then suddenly, yyou repsonfd to the film, "dolls." how are you? what have you been doing? why aren't you writing here? please write here! 071207 ... . sorry about the spelling errors. the snow has kept me inside with a bottle of shiraz. 071207 ... raze no worries, man. typos slip through my fingers all the time that make me want to rip my hair out and eat it. it's happened here at least a few times, usually late at night when the editing facilities in my brain have been taking a breather. i've been alright...nothing too exciting has been going on around these parts. moving into a new house was even more fun than living attached to a crack house. three months i've been here now, and i've felt settled for a while, but i still haven't unpacked everything. it's far from the kind of house i would prefer to live in. at least it's better than the last place. there's more room to stagger around. i have a good sitting porch for the warmer weather. it's nice to sit on the steps and play mandolin or something while kids are playing across the street, one shouting at another, "i used my magic powers on you! you're supposed to die now!" winter is in full tilt here...which is odd, because normally we don't get snow this early, and there have been many times when it's christmas day and i'm wondering if there will be any snow at all. it just wouldn't feel like christmas without it. and somehow, the snow always shows up on time. i haven't been writing here mostly for the same reason i haven't been doing much of anything else...my motivation is missing in traction. ever since i moved into this house i just feel lethargic almost all the time. part of it might be leftover emotional fallout from the exhausting seven months spent fighting the crack heads to no avail and living through the fun of their all-day/all-night rap & crack parties. at the end i had more than forty pages documenting the songs i was able to make out blaring through the walls (it wasn't always rap; they had a thing for classic rock, and someone over there was especially fond of the song "rock on" by david essex), things i heard people saying over there, all the noise they made and all the drug buys i witnessed. not that anyone wanted to do anything about it...even the police admitted that they knew the place was a drug house, but it wasn't their problem and they weren't living attached to it, so they didn't feel a need to take any action. part of it i'm sure has been because of my sleep being completely out of whack more times than i can count. i don't think i've been able to go a month this year without having to stay up for thirty or forty something hours without sleep so i can crash and get things back to normal again, only to have some asshole playing street hockey outside at one in the morning or something throw things off all over again. and a week later i'm living like a vampire once more. some months i've had to do this three times (i only know this because it's been documented when there have been an absence of dreams to add to the pile). i'm kind of used to it by now. at the moment things are in pretty decent shape, so hopefully this time i can keep it that way and eat three meals a day like a "normal" person for at least a month or two. it would be nice not to sleep through most of christmas, anyway. i guess i also don't feel i have much of interest to write about at the moment...there are words and ideas all the time, but they seem to want to channel themselves into music or other places. some of them are bound to want to head over here at some point, i would think. still, right now anything i wrote would probably come out looking like a blog entry, and i don't want to pollute this place with that sort of thing. but at the same time, i don't want to write fragmented things that have nothing to do with anything, which is what it seems i usually end up doing anyway. i'm stuck between a rock formation and a seagull, and the seagull just stares at me with a look that says, "don't let your guilt suspend your adequate thoughts." to which i respond, "what the fuck? you're the one responsible for the woefully brief song in that black & white christmas-themed rice krispies commercial, aren't you? i bet you even played the toy xylophone, or whatever it is." and then the seagull takes to the sky and shits on my shoulder, before flying away with a mighty "caw!" he mocks me because he can. and i laugh because i have no other recourse. but basically, things are alright. my life, as usual, seems to alternate between being uneventful and then suddenly being hammered by bursts of absurdity i couldn't possibly have anticipated. at least i can't say things are predictable... i will try to write more. but even when i have nothing to say, i'm always around, soaking up the atmosphere. y'all are too beautiful to ignore, even if i tried. 071207 ... unhinged hello old friend. i am glad you found your way out of that bad situation. i feel neglectful 071207 ... raze this is so strange and funny to read now, for so many different reasons. to think i ever felt like i had nothing to say here. (and dig how we were already old friends that long ago. i wonder what that makes us now. soul siblings, maybe?) 210927 ... warmthofrelease I've seen. People do make their way through dark places. They muscle or they muster or they kinetically involuntarily slide like slime on a slope. However they get out. It is the alternative_to_death. I feel. Words and passion and the willingness to create and expose to impress and to improve to do something with my time. It returns to me like dawn. Can I as an individual break through where this ingenious animal of humanity struggles? To achieve mastery of these machinations to which I have been bound like an umbilical_cord? To take these lifeless routines scrolling receipts euphemisms ad revenue notifications alarm clocks drone strikes drive thru windows staff meetings petitions vaccinations validations valedictions addictions additions subtractions abstractions distractions unnecessary threats and temptations the septic cesspool of "influence" and what it's become or always was the insatiable need to be constantly numbly amused the utter landfill of us CAN I not. squander. this? Let's see. The sun has held up its end of the bargain. Nothing worth not trying. If nothing else I can and will just let myself slide 240201 what's it to you? who go blather from