stream_of_consciousness Brad I think that the world is a toaster in which the bread we make at or work is burnt up and the society based on capital is destroyed by nuclear wepaons. The world is a purple swirl, that will spin in one direction, from top to bottom, with not even the slightest hint of a spherical quality. Faster, faster spinning until whatever is on it is thrown off..... nothing was ever really on it to begin with. Everything is a chance, we should go to bed, so that we can fully realize another imaginary world that is more clearly false. We are identified by the dinosaurs that once roamed the earth, black and blue and green and purple polka-dotted dinosaurs that danced to eastern european music and played the accordian. Dinosaurs had computers more sophisticated than ours, only they made them out of trees, coconuts, and palm fronds. Their computers knew the meaning of life. Their computers developed the meaning of life, and made it out of lips, fingertips, potato chips and hair clips. And butter. Mustn't forget butter. Butter is what happens when your refrigerator is low on freon. Freon kills the ozone layer, but not as much as cows. People will pay to watch other people do stuff on a screen. I am saying nothing. I am saying no less than anyone else. Don't worry about a thing. it will all be okay... Faulkner I am not. Copywrong 2000 000529 ... yolanda hmmmm. all the gold stars in the sky for Brad. and i'm a-goin' to a dreamy bed. 000529 ... Brad Thanks yolanda! Gold stars are fun. 000530 ... The Schleiffen Man I see the path laid before me and I must choose which fork to take. The one on the outside is for salads. The one on the inside is for the entree. Don't eat with your hands, you barbarian. And don't spit over the table during the meal, you'll upset the Vikings. Vikings are a glorious breed. Too bad they only come from Minnesota. The land of ten thousand lakes or dances or evil sideways glances. Evil doesn't scare me, it only postpones my inevitablity. I am Nordic, in heart and spirit, mind and body. I stand tall in the shadows of diffidence and decadence, hidden behind the chainlink fence of passion and rage. I try to act my age, but it's only a number and as far as numbers go, 19 isn't a great actor. So I get by with my music and computers and time wasters. I used to waste time with a girl, and the time was never better spent. Her skin had a low radiance that shone like a thousand solar eclipses. Her smile sends out shockwaves of peace that hit me with the force of a thermonuclear warhead. The detonation of society draws near but I have nothing to fear for I am nordic and hold dear all that which I've learned to fear. Keeps your friends close and your enemies closer, but always look around for they might be one and the same. My feet move slighly beneath me as I glide through time on a one way trip to my end. It's been a fun ride so far, but I've never liked roller coasters. I'm more of a log ride kind of guy. 000610 ... silentbob Thought of the Minute A quiet voice a whisper like theh hush of a wave on an ocean with alighthouse beaming out like the only eye in the head of a beast guarding the treasure of riches and gold, the heart of matters, the focal point of a generation raised on paychecks that are cooked into needles and injected into arms. The iris of the eye gets wider as the pupil dilates. The iris widens from within. Cold piano is the air takes flight through the clouds on a winter night with record highs and record eyes the stars twinkle down like sugar on cold cereal and the bounce and bounce and bounce playfully, nights children, mobile devices that serve as the human iris and compliment it as a painting might. Little men in little huts with red roofs chop wood to burn out their little chimneys. When man comes they hige in these huts and make sure not to be seen. On Holidays they all get together neighbors and parents and children and brothers and they play their musice and they dance and sing til the smallest hours in the morning. And when they dance they do til their ankles are cracked and broken like dried sticks sitting on the forest floor spooking a fox which runs from a tiny cave and letting it be known where he hides his little cubs. An act of betrayal so cold it chills grown men to the bone. how cowardly they think as they sip their tea. Languidly lapping what cannot be felt dealt smelt. Everyone around sees. They know. They can tell. its so obvious. Its on their lips in their whispers. They watch but look away when you notice them watching. Never before have good things felt so bad. You scrub til the skin peels off but you never get clean. you never cleanse your hands of the blood that comes so frequently these days. Throw the baby out with the bath water. Friday comes and all the people say, "We never thought you capable of destroying something beautiful" but what business is it of theirs to invade and intrude and encounter the quiet voice, dare they try to hear that firm whisper. its cold in the bed like the sheets turned to stone. They don't have a sleeping giant to keep them company. Something sweet the way the day folds up like a lawn chair but how can you be absolutely sure the day will come tomorrow. Theres nothing nowhere no one that says that makes such a promise and if they even did they were lyuing to themsleves and therefore you. Its quiet in this morning. No one around to thump on the floor. No one around to speak to the ghost that sings lullabyes to sleep babies and oh it forgot to tell you the secret so obvious to evryone but you. It knows. Everyoone knows. how can you be trying to forget? Close your eyes. Sit alone in a dark room. Put your head between your knees. Dont look out the window at the masses of people that know. They arent there. Breathe. Tell yourself its not real. Quiet. Don't see or think or taste or vent or remember or feel or flush or blush or carve out jackolanterns for halloween and tell them how black compliments orange. Don't do that. Don't exist. Sit and stop considering anything. Lay and breathe. Breathe and lay. Breathe in . let it go. breathe in. let her go. breathe in. let me go. The voice is there. Its telling you to get up. its telling you to go. You rise like the sun in the morning cross the street. You wonder if anyone else can appreciate a sunrise the way you can. No. Because they dont have your eyes. A disturbing image of them carving our your eyes in a fit of self-disgust makes you cringe. Drink the water. it will cool your sweat. The voice is back and is disguising itself as something you cant understand. Why would she leafve you like that? Dont be sorry. its her loss not yours. Whatever doesnt kill you will only get stronger and kill you later. You descend the buzzing of flourescents hums int he afterglo of your coma. You need some food in you. Its morning for sleepytime friends. You crack every knuckle in your body including thumbs and toes. Your neck snaps like rice krispies and you feel good to be alive. you feel good to be alive on planet earth. Because today is a gerat day for photo synthesis. You are a little green yoruself with expensive shoes and matching tie. What did the lady at the coffeeshop say? Oh yeah, they really bring out your eyes. Thank you lydia. Today i can take a town like this one. Take it with ranch dressing. The scream of one million dying brain cells is expelled with a sneeze as eyelids get heavey. A Disgusting odor repugnant as piss could drowns all in a waterfall of smog. Dont go outside today. Today could be the day they confront you. Do you remembe the last time you had to deal with competition confrontation complication. Nothing ever turns out as it should. You awake to find yourself alone again. Something strange about the way you find yoruself these days. How she always stalked and hunted you down but left before you woke up. One night she didn't show up. Only in your dreams. But you still wake up the same way: Empty. Like a parkinglot of an abandoned grocery store. Red marks up and down your body. This disgusting taste in your mouth. You can taste your own madness and no one understands why you scream yourself to sleep atn ight, why movies abou demons scare you. why you keep chanting about voices in the dark. voices that haunt like a silent stalker, a voice no one can hear but you, the alarming realization that no one is paying attention when you burn buidings down. No one seems intersted in your tragedy. You get in a car. Any one will do. Its yours now. You do battle with the open road, knocking out miles like blue light zaps flies. The radio tells of a deadly virus that infects the ear. It digs its way into your brain and haunts your memories making you remember things youd rather forget. "Nostalgia!" you snort, amused. The resounding engine encased in the red hood reminds you of the stomach of the beast. What a summers day that was. You pray for more days like this but find you feel you are takling to yourself. And all this time you were talking to god. Does this make me god? you wonder and waste your time thinking about the letter I and how its capitlized in reference to yourself the same way HE and HIM are capitlized in reference to Jesus. Am I jesus you wonder stupidly. But then you relize your rite of of passage has nothing to do with heaven and ascension. You wonder if perhaps you are the demonic version of some sordid messiah and must sacrifice yourself as the hellish fathers one and only ram. He hates us all equally you say and swallow spit down past your adams apple. Will you be a martyr to prove your the son of the beast the worm the serpent and you wonder why adam didnt take responsibility for his own sins, he got punished anyway. what a dishonest lover. You like to think of yourself as being more honest than adam as you drive through the free land. open for bison to roam. Bison that hide like little people in villages with red roofs from big men like you. people wonder why people are crazy as they jackhammer themsleves into mindless addictions senseless afflictions tragic convictions. Why bother with anything at all? its all enough to make a person squeal meaninglessly into the morning breath and not bother getting out of bed. In a headache there is relief in pain. If you sit long enough you can get used to anything. You just have to let yourself not be annoyed by anything even a dentist drill in your teeth. You breathe in. You let out. They notice. You yawn. You hold your head. Despite your best efforts, you cannot escape them. They are everywehre or so it would seem. Every city in this land of broken dreams and forgotten promises. Broken promises forgotten dreams. Promises disease, wet dreams. Squint. Cringe. Curdle like milk, white curds rest hush shush. Quiet in the quiet places. This is animerica. Dont deram without copyright priveliages. Make sure you know who you're ripping off. The most disgusting thing you ever saw was a pig with his insides ripped open. You noticed there was barely any blood. You wanted to photograph it and other things like the pigs that were still alive and watching their friend and fellow pig garbage eater on display with his pigs guts slopping out. You wonder if the other pigs were thinking, "Thats what i look like inside? Sick...i'm becoming a vegetarain. Sorry Marge. I cant go out tonight. I'm trying to watch my piggish figure. Too bad i cant turnmy head far enough in any one direction to either side to see any part of my body except my nose which sticks out inches from my head. I use it to smell to know what im about to taste. you can imagine id have a pretty sensitive snout and yet i'll eat anything." And then therse the pig. Guts on the ground. This was the climax of his life. Casualty of an ongoing struggle between man and male dominants. Man runs everything everything gets destroyed. The voice still lingers between lips and ear drums, slithering kisses across thighs in morning stores with donuts and police officers and senators and nuns. Nothing helps stop the voice from coming. It just comes no matter what you do. Nothing to prapre for its arrival. Just know. Expect. And notice them watching. Realizing they'll get you someday. But not today. Today you rest. In your bed. With the sheets as cold as armor and the crumbs with the sharp jagged edge cutting into you. you love it cuz thats you and you're proud. 020419 ... birdmad i've been pissing in mine 020419 ... silentbob OH MY GOD I LOVE THAT thats great :) 020419 ... sunrise funny frilly frothing words foam from my mouth but are first born of my brain; lemon litter nose knows tie type keyring kool school sucks melon balls creep up like sheep over a fence in my half-awake state 020809 ... eklektic cultural vocab... 020810 ... endless desire my life feels just kind of dirty and tired. and i just wish i could clean it up. the days are growing warmer and my room is growing dirtier and life is growing complicated and i just dont know what to do. and i hate whining. i hate my whining. i wish i could go a day without complaining so damn much. but everything feels dirty. a dirty that a shower cant clean and a funny smell to the air that shows that everythign is not right. its what happens when instead of cleaning, you just stuff everything in drawers. it looks clean but its trully not. and then you have to look for something and you have to pull everything out of the drawers and the whole mess is revealed and there is nothing you can do. there just isnt anything because all of that stuff has no where in the world to go. and then i feel miserable and i want to get out of this house and i want to go to place where everything is clean and my life is clean and everything is ok. i just want to be ok. god. its pissing me off. i dont feel good either. i think im getting sick and school is almost over and i am stressing out and everyday i go crazy. so moody. so depressed and then so very very happy. and then so down and i dont know what to do because i just hit these awful slumps where life is just too much for me and all i want to do is sleep. and then two seconds later, im happier than youve ever seen me. and i want school to be over so so badly but when school is over, you are gone. and you wont be back next year, you will be in san diego. which seems so far when there is no way for me to get there. i mean, you could have gone to the jc or san diego or all the way across the nation and ill hardly see you as it is. and i know we will make it if we try. you said, "we will do wonderfully you and i" and i will believe you because i want to do wonderfully and we are doing wonderfully and i want nothing more than to make this work. because i finally understand what love is and it blows my mind. i just feel so content and happy here. im not searching for something more. this_is_perfect. family is driving me nuts. and the glare from the window is killing me inside. and i bite my nails down til they hurt now. i always let them grow out before but i cant help it. i need to get out of just going through the motions. but in a few minutes i will be happy again. so very happy again. because i am fucking rollercoaster. and i keep thinking about lemons and how much they would hurt my throat right now and how much i want to have sex but cant. i mean, its not that i cant. but that a part of me says no. says the guilt will kill me. its the religion thing you see. ive held so dear to it because thats what ive grown up with and now i cant let it go. and well, i dont even want to get started on religion. ive never been so confused. but maybe im just trying to ignore my confusion. i have enough to worry about. one bridge a time. oh, and i hate whale noises. 030604 ... jane see also freewrite 030604 ... User24 how many of these types of pages are there? 030915 ... once again freewrite rant writing_randomly or click go at the bottom fo the page and you'll find thousands of similair pages. 030915 ... jane i think 35265 of them we call it blather 030915 ... User24 [grin] true, true. 030916 ... MrMakeveli if i feel this pain if i know this ache if you refuse to see me this day i break i cry i see the world die i know how this ends i know what you feel and what you dont feel and i see a doll you once held as a child and see it torment me my memories haunt me as you once haunted me before as you haunt me now you cannot feel this pain in my chest anymore than i can feel how your beating heart warms my skin as your delicate skin would allow my birth and allow me to fly from this earth and fly from this tree into a beauty i had not foreseen into fading twilight i swear i'll never land and in this desolate place i'll be overcome by gravity and fall, and the world will fade, and you will fade, and i will fade... we will fade together. (feel free to join the stream) 040505 ... neutral steam i was walking back from a museum, with my mother. i watched as she stepped carefully over the grates in the sidewalk, and rememebered the story of how she had avoided the grates in the sidewalk as a child, fearing falling. i avoided the sidewalk, thinking what might happen to a small girl who stepped onto a steam cover as it exploded into the air. she would be thrown, and she would grip the cover with thin hands. but soon she would realize that she would not be killed, and she would begin to enjoy the steam against her face, and the rollercoaster ride. she would look down at everyone walking on the ground, pitying their one dimensional lives. the joy in the ride would soon turn to annoyance, the rollicking making her nauseuous. sonn she would scream for some to help her. the workers walking to their jobs would smile and wave at her, recalling their own childhood memories of joy. when no one helped her she cried, her tears quickly drying on the heated sidewalks. the repairmen come to fix the cover were touched by her tears of happiness, and soon left her to her fun for a while as they rushed home to read their bibles and praise god for showing them that scene. soon, the girl wouldnt be able to take anymore, adn she would jump, the cover tipping her into the smoky hole. a tragedy the repairmen called it, and prayed for forgiveness for letting one of god's sweetest children die. the girl smiled as she fell, for the sheer satisfaction of flight 040515 ... z eddies, standing waves and sink holes 040516 ... kookaburra somebody is changing my life around. its just little things, the shadow that appears then disappears, the object appearing in the very first place that i looked, that deep voice that i heard as she cheerfully closed the door. but now blather. it seems that what i've said all too recently is slowly sliding around, too slowly to notice, and not drastic enough for me to convince myself that it is true. recently i was listening to hey ya, and i noticed that the first half of the chorus had discordant harmonies, like that slippery sound that you hear in horror movies, where there is something building under the music. an unheard scream, far scarier than the hollywood star's shrieks for help as the monster walks up to her, but improbably waits there, gnashing its teeth until the hero gets there. i know why people are afraid of clowns. when you slow down that familiar circus theme, the silver blade leaps out, another way to show you that this just isnt right. maybe some people move slower than other people, experience things slower. they hear the music, and can pick out the psycho child, who used to play with toys until It happened. or maybe she had no toys, maybe her companion was always the suffocating feeling of a dream, which no one ever had, withering til no one would ever care, then bursting into the nothingness that you hear under the music. or is it everything? is that the sound of the universe, uncovered by the percepted happiness of the song becoming sad and destructive and strange? is it uncertainty that we heard, or is it joy? for everyone says that the sound of the universe, if we were perceptive enough to hear it, would be pure almost unbearable joy. so are the psychos, the ones who we lock up and shudder over, with their broken childhoods, are they the only ones who are true happy? are the ones who burn, the ones who give into each urge and whim that crosses their twisted minds, the only ones who experience pure untouched joy? who said joy was good? who said pain was evil. donnie darko, remember us. maybe through our deaths everything will be right. who said joy was for the living? 040606 ... kx21 * Parallel_Sayings * Definition:- stream of consciousness: directional cues iLink:- brain's_axons_are_x_sensitive_to_directional_cues 040606 ... pete no more i say as the words are typed with my eyes closed. no more. oh let the darkness come so atleast i can be comfortable. it is still light after nine pm here now. just last night i was walking along the river and it was not dark until near 10 pm . but the trees were comforting in the way that the darkness without them could not be. i walked between the dappled shade that sings out your name when you breathe it in. three hours spent walking around. i rmeember i called you once after going for a walk and you asked me why. oh silly girl. any ways. i listened, and was followed for a bit by a stray cat. i wish it followed me home. down into my basement apartment. it was black and white. small. it had a sad meow. i tried to get it to smell my hand to see if it would let me pet it. but it didnt want to. it had a short tale. it looked as if the long part of its tale was chopped off by something. poor cat. definitely not a kitten though. i came across it when i was nearing bank street. and the sawns were on the water. three of them. i have never seen more than three in any one place, so i assume that the rideau river only has three swans. it has many ducks. ducks of the mallard viariety. as i sit here with my eyes closed typing and hoping that my fingers are set right on the keyboard so that what i am typing makes sense and is not just a bunch of gobbligegoop. last night i remember that word came up when i was watching black adder goes forth part one. that was after watching three episodes offawlty towers. john rented them when he was up for his courtdate over the weekend. poor bugger. he really shouldnt drink so much at times. but anyways, no one showed up when i nivited a bunc hover. well one person did. at twelve thirty. i was already asleep for two hours, but i went out for a walk as i had only fallen asleep in my clothes waiting. i think it is best if i never try to have people over again. whenever i do no one comes. it is rather depressing. but anyways, let us not dwell on that. but now it is in my mind and this is bloody stream of consiousness. ah th eriver. it changes so much yet stays the same. at each part of its trip it is the same, always changing, at times it is called a different thing. but it keeps going until it blows out of this reality. ah nirvana. the power of the buddha. the awoken one. and now my eyes are open so i guess this ends here. 040607 ... kx21 Consciousness 123:- Chat, Clap, specifically Crap... 040608 ... . iLink:- superstring_multidimensional_crap 040608 ... a thimble in time On certain days the stream dries up, and I am left with trickling thoughts; vague notions and murky feelings floating haphazardly by. Amidst the stupor, I yearn for the lucid spring fount. It might be awhile before it returns, but it will return. 040608 ... JustOnMonday What I am thinking right now: Why isn't he getting on. He usually gets on right about now, but it IS a Friday night. God, I am a loser. I am waiting for him to get online so I can wait for him to IM me and when he doesn't I will get all depressed and remember that I have no hope with him. But what if he does IM me? Like last time when he jsut IMed me 'I heart you.' and then just signed off. Or what if we have one of our in depth conversations and I don't get to sleep tonight. That would be great, but suck tomorrow when I go to practice. Oh well, I can take a nap. Why isn't he on. I will only wait one more minute, then I am getting off. God, why I am writing this in blather? I sound like the kind of teenage boy drama idiots I loathe. I am a moron. I wish he would just let me go. If he told me something really horrible would I count it against him and hate him or would I forgive him right away and still love him? That's my problem, I forgive and love to easily. Took me three years for me to trust him and he just shoves it right back in my face. Shows me right for trusting him. I knew I shouldn't trust anyone except my cat. I can't even trust myself to trust myself. What? God, I am such an idiot. I want to tell him to hate me. Is that crazy? 040723 what's it to you? who go blather from