31 January 2005

Nose Grease the Anti-Head and Other 21st Century Heroes

But you never will go far
In a Japanese car
Just thinking of the things that we've missed

So I realise that I haven't put the pictures up that I promised, but let's be honest with each other, none of you actually read this webpage, so really I'm only aggravating myself by not having them posted, no? I mean, I get visitors and all, but you stay for about 30 seconds, which is exactly the amount of time it takes for one to realise I am the Devil. So I figure, I got time, I can do whatever I like, like read a book and listen to ... And You Will Know Us by the Trail of Dead, because, I like to do these things, just like you like to touch your mom at night. Don't lie, I'm sure plenty of other people are the same way... ok, that was a lie, you're a freak, go beat yourself to within an inch of lifelessness. Seriously. Do it. Go on. Alright... THAT IS FUCKIN IT, i will play widget with your head using a cricket bat goddammit!
Fine then, lemme go by one after I finish typing this, which could take awhile since I am simultaneously (yes, I used a big word, I'm proud of me, too) rockin out to the aforementioned AYWKUBTTOD, try sayin that 5 times fast. But I transgress, or digress, or regress, or something like that, that one word, you know, the sector and chord thingy with circles and yeah... yeah. Chuff. It's still the word of the day, and has been for some time i might add. So just to get it out of the way: chuff chuff chuff chuff chuff chuff chuff the chuffinator the chuffmeister the chuffster. Ok, I'm all better now.
There's been that feeling creeping up on me unseen, it just wrapped me in some silk this afternoon while I was waking from the bus. A great density of sleep like a weight of tog and heavy cotton flannel warmed and soften. I am in the mood for hibernation again, just as in every year. As all other animals and people begin to wake up and end their long sleepy winters I get snuggled down in for the spring and summer. An oddity I'm well aware, but the sun and I never have been akin to one another. Oh sure, I like many people enjoy the aesthetic beauty of a good tan. I like the darkened burnt umber look of it, baked skin, knowing I earned it from long hours working out of doors. I like how it nears the black charred skin inked not so long ago, happy at times to have the shade that he leaves me in turn. Nonetheless, I have always been composed of the darker things, moon and shadow, dark and cloud. It's no wonder my imagination tends toward these bent things, a world where right and wrong cease to exist. Sure the sun and I converse as I occasionally bask in it, but these are but brief conversations of the wind and sea, determining how one should leave the other. And so then he too will pass the equator and leave me in the shadows of early evenings and icy chills of winter.
I hunger for rest and unwearied silence.

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