tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-52128722011-04-21T19:59:08.525-07:00fallsdownalotfrankenstein blogBloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13671090677309641707noreply@blogger.comBlogger751100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5212872.post-74108720418540943592008-02-16T00:03:00.001-08:002008-02-16T00:03:51.407-08:00On the show in May of 2007 at Dead Herring:Felt as if it weighed ten thousand pounds.How could anything in heaven be so heavy.The drums. It comes down,Falls and crushes you: The lightest waveIs a roll and tap of the hand.We are crushed by nothing.Bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13671090677309641707noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5212872.post-1167077987731862262006-12-25T12:19:00.000-08:002006-12-25T12:19:54.716-08:00paradigm shift.Bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13671090677309641707noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5212872.post-1154462980086440822006-08-01T13:08:00.000-07:002006-08-01T13:09:40.096-07:00i keep mine hidden, still.Bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13671090677309641707noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5212872.post-1120552118832370362005-07-05T01:28:00.000-07:002005-07-05T01:28:38.836-07:00according to the department of health and sanitation, particularly dangerous for "new yorkers with weakened immune systems and elderly pregnant women." this lizzie quoted from the newspage. like myself, all those old knocked-up ladies better watch out. there was so much lightning and no thunder, so much and so little. kuhn's paradigm shift. even dong is broken up curled into little pieces ofBloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13671090677309641707noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5212872.post-1118078972464114892005-06-06T10:29:00.000-07:002005-06-06T10:29:32.473-07:00found two mason jars and an entire filing cabinet filled with books from someone named meghan. meghan seemed like an interesting girl, friend material, though the things she threw away were the ones best for keeping, so perhaps not. a pamphlet of the RNC protest routes from last summer, an NYC free events calender that someone else's friend drew the cover for, bikes on punks jumbled and mashed Bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13671090677309641707noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5212872.post-1113288196537884942005-04-11T23:43:00.000-07:002005-04-11T23:43:16.536-07:00today some seeds were planted. radishes come in towards august, cress much sooner. i love mexican salads with a spritz of lime and some chopped cilantro. i ate half the basil on the way home, feeling like a cannibalistic vegan. soon i will slice and layer prosciutto with the bland creamy goat cheese peppered with tiny little corns that i love from the pyrennes and drizzlings of olive oil on aBloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13671090677309641707noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5212872.post-1112254874129912422005-03-30T23:41:00.000-08:002005-03-30T23:41:14.130-08:00tender buttons that pleaseso easily, unravel? no!a story about pom poms;slope of an arm reaching itsbump where i fought youleft only smoothnesseswhence bruises reignedfor a fortnight *************************little pleasures run ripples thru my suckling tongue, unabashedly.*************************the last time it snowed during spring break i regurgitated backwater gin from the tin tub where it Bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13671090677309641707noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5212872.post-1111614485752502342005-03-23T13:48:00.000-08:002005-03-23T13:48:05.753-08:00it seems so far away, long ago...something about two thousand and onecame creeping in through the carpeti dusted many hours before thistread that keeps dirtying up all the meagerness in beigeone floor can holdsmooth elevator ride to the top trembles at the brass doorknobveins like downy spiders' legs spreading out soft, red, over merethreading my thoughtsthat linger on, warm; a loop. i make sureBloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13671090677309641707noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5212872.post-1110224782993732712005-03-07T11:46:00.000-08:002005-03-07T11:46:22.996-08:00sugarcubes "hit" will replce spiritualized's "ladies and gentlemen we are floating in space" as the new song to float down the aisle to on weddind day. this will be more of a dance down the aisle. smog's wonderful bitter song "i'm gonna be drunk, so drunk, at your wedding," however, will still be played. i guess now that i cant drink anymre i'll have to figure out another way to elope to vegasBloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13671090677309641707noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5212872.post-1109823672170373212005-03-02T20:19:00.000-08:002005-03-02T20:21:12.186-08:00“Reclaiming Praxis in An Expanded Field: A Theory of Art and An Art of Theory: Notes on Theoretical Arches”Once upon a time there was a precipitous moment in the history of the West when the debate between philosophy and politics, between theory as contemplation and political praxis, was in a state of tense equilibrium, undecided one way or the other. Such a moment was certainly after the moment Bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13671090677309641707noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5212872.post-1106984240977626362005-01-28T23:37:00.000-08:002005-01-28T23:37:20.976-08:00its seven forty seven, i'm staying up for my ten am class. then i'm skipping logic. even though its the first class. as if i could construct a legitamate syllogistic sentence anyway with anyone except the rollerskates going 'round and 'round in my head. duude i'm bringing back pounds and pounds of semi-freddies croutons for the crewtonz. i've been dreaming about it for weeks. three feet of Bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13671090677309641707noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5212872.post-1106806178415241892005-01-26T22:09:00.000-08:002005-01-26T22:09:38.416-08:00the answer: a tire doesnt sing when you put chains on it. or "gossip" themed friends post.
it appears that when you actually decide to make the quantum leap and click on those links they go somewhere else! they go to surrender monkey, they go to meester meyer, they go the EAX (I knew that one already), they go to spff, they go to sievehead and more more more. our randy is such a well-rounded Bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13671090677309641707noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5212872.post-1106654391299593322005-01-25T07:24:00.001-08:002005-01-25T03:59:51.300-08:00a tire doesnt sing when you put chains on it.
it appears that when you actually decide to make the quantum leap and click on those links they go somewhere else! they go to surrender monkey, they go to meester meyer, they go the EAX (I knew that one already), they go to spff, they go to sievehead and more more more. our randy has such a well-rounded person with such interesting and diverse Bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13671090677309641707noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5212872.post-1106654008378488282005-01-25T07:24:00.000-08:002005-01-25T03:53:29.046-08:00a tire doesnt sing when you put chains on it.
it appears that when you actually decide to make the quantum leap and click on those links they go somewhere else! they go to surrender monkey, they go to meester meyer, they go the EAX (I knew that one already), they go to spff, they go to sievehead and more more more. our randy has such a well-rounded person with such interesting and diverse Bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13671090677309641707noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5212872.post-1106651945255404912005-01-25T03:18:00.000-08:002005-01-25T03:19:05.256-08:00jesse tyler and i just watched the against me! documentary from netflix. you're right i do dislike them more now. hey they have miranda july and maya deren and the gleaners (next on my cue) and that documentary bread & roses on netflix too so no reason for me to ever leave the house. it's two degrees outside and i have seven sleeping bags of boys arrayed 'round my feet blowing warm breath Bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13671090677309641707noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5212872.post-1105071179634700022005-01-06T20:12:00.000-08:002005-01-06T20:12:59.633-08:00so i got into the cuny english graduate conference Theory/Anti-Theory/Art Theory. sweet. this is my first conference! i have to give a talk on my paper for twenty minutes. what if i fall down or spill water all over the front of my shirt or fart really really loudly? i will probably do all three and then ramble on some more cuz i am so good at ramblin' on. it's like the bob dylan song: the Bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13671090677309641707noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5212872.post-1104963655966828292005-01-05T14:20:00.000-08:002005-01-05T14:20:55.966-08:00Tuesday, January 04, 2005:
one-year-anniversary! the saddest blog is still going on sad...
walker gripped my arm with his characteristic carnivalesque acrobat strength and said "I thought of you alot this Christmas." i could only think the same, peering through his straggly arkansan-bred beard to think about how i still listened to vanessa singing about how she wanted to be friends instead andBloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13671090677309641707noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5212872.post-1102748869496603912004-12-10T23:07:00.000-08:002004-12-10T23:12:27.890-08:00whoo!!...thinkin' about my thinning hair on a bus ride home...and the way you look like in your underwear!! those kids know how to write a good song. there's nothing i like better than to emerge from a hot shower and dance to earth crisis' hilarious cover of the rolling stones' paint it black (i'm assuming that's also where paint it black got its name from). any earth crisis song will do, but Bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13671090677309641707noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5212872.post-1100046373215544452004-11-09T16:26:00.000-08:002004-11-09T16:26:13.216-08:00since i am ensconced ever so ungently within the grip of femmanazi-dom (as the inhabitants of choo-choo train so graciously annoint themselves) i've taken to mulling over the thought of feminisms in art. katie really likes miranda july. i really do too. lenny likes mogdigliani and sex and the city. she does not like helen mirra or eva hesse, not knowing who eva hesse was despite her art Bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13671090677309641707noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5212872.post-1098567716888011242004-10-23T14:41:00.000-07:002004-10-23T14:42:41.970-07:00"the before to the present"
1925-1926 arnold schoenberg suite op.29, twelve-tone row chart for e-flat clarinet clarinet bass clarinte violin viola violoncello piano
"the presnet to now"
museum of contemporary art, chicago:
1929/1957 max ernst: loplop introducing a bird, plaster oil wood
1966 lee bontecou: untitled, steel wire oil epoxy on fiberglass canvas leather light
1967 richard tuttle: Bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13671090677309641707noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5212872.post-1097254622304199772004-10-08T09:56:00.000-07:002004-10-08T09:57:02.303-07:00The secret life of knees: a musical history
Yesterday, the moon was wet again with tomorrow’s rain. We sat down by the windowpanes, where the roof ledge met the edge of the sky smudged an inky blue. The kid opened a mouth stuffed with grape leaves and this is what came out: “Do you know that feeling, that feeling? Hey where were you last night? I looked for you at the show. Anyway sometimesBloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13671090677309641707noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5212872.post-1096665214670849622004-10-01T14:13:00.000-07:002004-10-01T14:13:34.670-07:00you held my hand, only once. down on shattuck avenue.
the night you danced, in your underpants,
arms waving, eyes sparking and gleaming like blades
"whenireadyou ifalldownanddie" you said.
i unwrap gently what words i can give you:
a gourd from one wednesday may fifth
when fruits were their ripest and bursting with fullness
sour lemon three weeks later, dripping with dissent.
they fall like Bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13671090677309641707noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5212872.post-1094781045609204832004-09-09T18:50:00.000-07:002004-09-09T18:50:45.610-07:00Monday, September 06, 2004:
"I Am Much Too Alone in This World, Yet Not Alone"
--Rainer Maria Rilke, translated by Annemarie S. Kidder
I am much too alone in this world, yet not alone enough
to truly consecrate the hour.
I am much too small in this world, yet not small enough
to be to you just object and thing,
dark and smart.
I want my free will and want it accompanying
the path which leads Bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13671090677309641707noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5212872.post-1093889268271489732004-08-30T11:07:00.000-07:002004-08-30T11:07:48.270-07:00"i think the city is killing him."
after biking over the williamsburg bridge and back the upside-down flag waving and bell ringing and riding downhill with calves flexed in anticipation and happiness, even after adam and tyson sweated their way through another set in my steamy basement and i stood transfixed by the twin wooden sticks that the drummer plys as his heartfelt trade, yes, even after Bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13671090677309641707noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5212872.post-1091730099668640272004-08-05T11:21:00.000-07:002004-08-05T11:21:39.666-07:00guys guys these are some of my favorite bands in the world to see live and i'm so excited that i feel slightly incontinent. much thanks to Mister Winn, Mister Dolce, Mister Max, flyers on the doors of 248 McKibbin and nonsensenyc. also morgan ave. east bushwick reprezent all the houses of wares and high and mighty lofts filled with all the kids of late seventies marriages gone awry. i've been Bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13671090677309641707noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5212872.post-1084727316165030242004-05-16T10:08:00.000-07:002004-05-16T10:08:36.166-07:00when i saw you today you were so good-looking that i had to squirm a little. your onion-flavored rings tee shirt. how did you guess? at the department party everyone drank martinis during the thunderstorm and the sounds of thunder bounced off the metal cups and forked our tongues. conversation, obviously, was kept to a low air-conditioner hum. in the midst of this someone tried to convince Bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13671090677309641707noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5212872.post-1084413740659362192004-05-12T19:02:00.000-07:002004-05-12T19:02:20.660-07:00and for chris, who has never thought about the saddest songs in the world:
“The light dove, piercing in her easy flight the air and perceiving its resistance, imagines that flight would be easier in empty space” (Immanuel Kant quoted in Bernard Jaffe’s Michelson and the Speed of Light).
1. Rachmaninov Theme for Corelli
2. Michael Galasso Angkor Wat
3. a silver mount zion angels (courtesy of Bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13671090677309641707noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5212872.post-1082676908122314392004-04-22T16:34:00.000-07:002004-04-22T16:39:09.420-07:00you held my hand only once
on shattuck avenueBloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13671090677309641707noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5212872.post-1082647760123708682004-04-22T08:29:00.000-07:002004-04-22T16:32:41.356-07:00i think i blew my cover when he asked me if i liked vegan ice cream at the show and i just looked at him blankly: "i've never had it before." inside his head: "what? is she like totally not vegan or something? how could she eat cheese! dorks eat cow...sigh she had such potential, better delete her as my friendster, cuz you know what will RadicalTeachers and Ladyfest think?" shit uh oh better Bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13671090677309641707noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5212872.post-1081817488664512182004-04-12T17:51:00.000-07:002004-04-12T17:55:16.576-07:00the fog crept by just like carl said it would, on its little feet. we made bets all the way down to trump plaza where yes, they did serve water with donald’s face on the side of it. the best story of the night is too seedy to retell. sometimes something comes along that changes everything else. i look a little harder and see a little more. all of a sudden there are browns and yellows and Bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13671090677309641707noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5212872.post-1077540468947261912004-02-23T04:47:00.000-08:002004-02-23T04:50:31.500-08:00paul didnt come home last nite after his sushi date with mohawk boy. there are many sens staring at me on the computer screen. its ten forty-two. who the fucks up at ten forty-two? so i was going to give this all up, that's why the secrets out c'est finit blah blah blah. new yorks too fast for slow moving blogs and sad slogs and bad bugs ect. plus i guess aimee has even read this thing. which is Bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13671090677309641707noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5212872.post-1077460297954433412004-02-22T06:31:00.000-08:002004-02-22T06:37:52.546-08:00sunshine pooled in bright little ponds at their feet. rays of light fell in between the screen of the windowpane like icicles of hail slicing through a brutal winter night. it had been like this all week: summer inside and winter outside. when they lied in bed till two in the afternoon and curled their woolen-socked toes in defiance of the pneumatic gods and their falling thermostats, she Bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13671090677309641707noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5212872.post-1075769993016789772004-02-02T16:59:00.000-08:002004-02-02T17:02:08.216-08:00i'm so tired i can't even recount the fun. but lets recount the bruises: one for each degree over fifty it reached, one for each rock and roll adventure kid: i think theres five now with timmy the new tamborine boy who tells me to stop picking wedgies and start picking up my phone, one for randall's coast guard friend eric who was just rad, one for each fart laid by gross boys in marcos' chickenBloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13671090677309641707noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5212872.post-1075424302360421512004-01-29T16:58:00.000-08:002004-01-29T17:00:32.593-08:00woke up this morning. it was warm. fuck yeah. smoked cigarettes sitting on the damp wooden posts of the 38th street house. played with kyle and lauren's new puppy who screams like a deranged monkey. they're thinking of calling her nia. waited for the 40 for half an hour, as usual. went straight to the bowl, gorged myself on a breakfast of semi-freddie's croutons and hearts of palm and damnBloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13671090677309641707noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5212872.post-1074734358222148132004-01-21T17:19:00.000-08:002004-01-21T17:21:18.123-08:00i discovered the portable galaxie 500 and lucy dreams for baku the day after the day of the snowstorm. the day of the snowstorm i rode the L train for three hours from 8th avenue to canarsie to 8th avenue and back again. it hadn't been this cold in one hundred and eleven years. there was one other person in my car who did the same thing for part of the time. he saw that i was too tired to Bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13671090677309641707noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5212872.post-1074565427508871772004-01-19T18:05:00.001-08:002004-01-19T18:25:44.780-08:00i discovered the portable galaxie 500 and lucy dreams for baku the day after the day of the snowstorm. the day of the snowstorm i rode the L train for three hours from 8th avenue to canarsie to 8th avenue and back again. there was one other person in my car who did the same thing for part of the time. he saw that i was too tired to ever get up, just like him, and sat down next to me in a Bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13671090677309641707noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5212872.post-1074565358557423122004-01-19T18:05:00.000-08:002004-01-19T18:24:35.843-08:00i discovered the portable galaxie 500 and lucy dreams for baku the day after the day of the snowstorm. the day of the snowstorm i rode the L train for three hours from 8th avenue to canarsie to 8th avenue and back again. there was one other person in my car who did the same thing for part of the time. he saw that i was too tired to ever get up, just like him, and sat down next to me in a Bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13671090677309641707noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5212872.post-1074564280441806602004-01-19T18:04:00.000-08:002004-01-19T18:06:37.950-08:00bard graduate center for studies in the decorative arts, design and culture
sigmar polke: history of everything paintings and drawings 1998-2002
oxford companion to food
nero: edward champlin
sex lives of saints: an erotics of ancient hagiography, virginia burrus
francis bacon: the logic of sensation, gilles deleuze
kant: gilles deleuze
jean-antoine houdon: sculptor of the enlightenment
essays onBloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13671090677309641707noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5212872.post-1072224102664171322003-12-23T16:01:00.000-08:002003-12-23T16:03:04.543-08:00?k?i vu une paire de talons noirs jetant un coup d'oeil hors de votre porte de chambre à coucher. je l'ai pensée appropriée. je vous remercie du café, les oeufs, la chaleur, la lumière et surtout, le new york review of books. Bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13671090677309641707noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5212872.post-1072216755684921102003-12-23T13:59:00.000-08:002003-12-23T14:01:41.860-08:00
the first snowfall of the season, ou est mon chapeau? dans le coeur, naturallement
Bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13671090677309641707noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5212872.post-1071682421989011692003-12-17T09:33:00.000-08:002003-12-17T09:34:55.153-08:00its the idea that quietness blankets a hidden storm that supposedly soothes--hence "the defense."
'this was his first impression when he saw her, when he noticed with surprise that he was actually talking to her. it irked him a little that she was not quite as good-looking as she might have been, judging by odd dreamy signs strewn about his past...she replied and added many similar words--theBloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13671090677309641707noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5212872.post-1070347408043244402003-12-01T22:42:00.000-08:002003-12-03T14:30:18.123-08:00Indeed, we shall not fall out of this world. We are in it once and for all. 'We cannot fall out of this world.' Christian Dietrich Grabbe. its funny, i really dont know a fucking word of german. i learned nothing. but i cant stop loving its translations. i miss you like the cold cold grip of death squeezing me to pieces on the hottest day in hell. "Ja, aus der Welt werden wir nicht fallenBloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13671090677309641707noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5212872.post-1069199162164955772003-11-18T15:45:00.000-08:002003-11-18T15:46:36.310-08:00atmosphere is thick and wavy: i'm swimming through jello. fever of one hundred and eight degrees. slept for sixteen straight hours friday. nasal passages, not so good. forecast of more rain and pneumatic phelgm (how do you spell pneumatic phelgm?). sometimes it feels like you're branding me with a hot poker. poke poke. oh who am i kidding it feels wonderful. delirious.
she had skin Bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13671090677309641707noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5212872.post-1068253556889590822003-11-07T17:05:00.000-08:002003-11-07T17:06:17.373-08:00hi uni tivoli keyo. thats what marc says i said. i swear. but not to him. or to him about you dufus. ro sufud. ak! runs wid. i deny everything. but hoep eevrytinhg is well. iiissssss oooooouuu.Bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13671090677309641707noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5212872.post-1067989944012248462003-11-04T15:52:00.000-08:002003-11-04T15:52:39.856-08:00i give up. for a while. i've got the hobnobbing ex-girfriends on the west hand and the devious east on the right hand and i really couldnt give a shit. for a while. why did thom just turn around and look at me like that? dont you know you already had my world a long time ago and though i would never want that little glass globe you hold in your hand now there once was a time when i would Bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13671090677309641707noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5212872.post-1067812453224994202003-11-02T14:34:00.000-08:002003-11-02T14:34:26.733-08:00"why doth i never cease to tire of your pale fire?"
marcus, i need to speak to you.
adam is a classic libra.
i hate urbn already.
made pho.
snarfed.
pho again.
eileen gives no credit.
eileen is so very photogenic.
and the flames climbed ever higher.
still here thinking of you marcus bojanowski.Bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13671090677309641707noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5212872.post-1066783443398369482003-10-21T17:44:00.000-07:002003-10-21T17:44:02.986-07:00its the return of the fucking champ! fierce man, fierce! saw some old skool cast o' hooligans: amy v. tangi charlie. charlie! nima and tamar at the silver lion. who would have thunk it. alcohol reminds me of the physicality of my body. for how can you know you ever had it unless you sweat a little to destroy it? thought alot about pais and a little about merleau-ponty and his haptic Bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13671090677309641707noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5212872.post-1066677024938183382003-10-20T12:10:00.000-07:002003-10-20T12:10:24.953-07:00the days passed like long stray strands of hair brushing across her face. it was always a day like this that caused her to let her hair down. sometimes i am disarmed by the genuineness of it all, the trifling details, bits of skin and pieces of words dropped like pebbles in a still still pond. of other moments i simply forget. the pogues help i suppose.Bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13671090677309641707noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5212872.post-1066204521686766312003-10-15T00:55:00.000-07:002003-10-15T00:55:21.130-07:00um i dont know whats going on with you saddest blog that ever was. i tried to upload a photo and it got even sadder (if that's at all possible). so i'm just printing the link and ya'll are gonna have to type it in old skool style yo. sorry my techno-savy is obviously not. if only i had one of my own...anyway enough whining. its http://public.fotki.com/cathystirednow/art_party/Bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13671090677309641707noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5212872.post-1062986018033811342003-09-07T18:53:00.000-07:002003-09-07T18:53:37.893-07:00whats left? merely a hollow shell of a ghostly summer haunting our restless sleep. soon i will give up, not yet, but soon.Bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13671090677309641707noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5212872.post-1062124500876944862003-08-28T19:35:00.000-07:002003-08-28T19:35:00.790-07:00"In spite of myself, the insidious mastery of song
Betrays me back, till the heart of me weeps to belong"
--D.H. Lawrence.
"Just as my fingers on these keys
Make music, so the selfsame sounds
On my spirit make a music too.
Music is a feeling, then, not sound;
And thus it is that what I feel,
Here in this room, desiring you,"
--Wallace Stevens.
"I have gone out, a possessed witch,
haunting the Bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13671090677309641707noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5212872.post-1062123378997937822003-08-28T19:16:00.000-07:002003-08-28T19:16:19.000-07:00because i have no self to write of, my writing betrays me.
quick quick hurry hurry let it out before they traverse america and get to a computer on the other coast on three wheels and a burgundy door taken from a broken-down jetta at the pick'n' pull with my letter stuck in between a pile of screeching weasel records and a beat happening tribute album that might have been your birthday singing Bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13671090677309641707noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5212872.post-1061238500956330092003-08-18T13:28:00.000-07:002003-08-18T13:28:20.936-07:00time passes like a drag off the world's longest fucking cigarette so i was at this party and i hope i was having a good time except i can never really recall the days that fly by my face cutting my cheek like a speeding bullet grazing too close to the heart's content just there to remind you that yes you can lose everything in an instant and when its five in the morning and the wrong person's Bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13671090677309641707noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5212872.post-1061154906749594522003-08-17T14:15:00.000-07:002003-08-17T14:15:06.760-07:00i've decided that i will only hang out with really drunk boys who like to break things and throw shit like bottles and kegs and each other from now on ever ever ever. there really is no difference between your typical frat boy and your typical clone boy. except maybe you get to break bottles to the buzzcocks or something. and to think i kept asking eileen when she was going to go home. fuck Bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13671090677309641707noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5212872.post-1061154849289138572003-08-17T14:14:00.000-07:002003-08-17T14:14:09.296-07:00samuel parr, erwin wurm, hans-jean arp, hans bellmer, francis picabia, rem koolhas, yves klein, william klein, helmut newton, alexander rodchenko, vladimir tatlin, ilya kabakov, august sander, franz kline, adolph gottlieb, eugene atget, antonio burri, christian boltanski, chris burden, ellsworth kelley, cy twombly, victor vasarely, martial raysse, nam june paik, joseph beuys, gordon matta-clark, Bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13671090677309641707noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5212872.post-1060307560084121812003-08-07T18:52:00.000-07:002003-08-07T18:52:40.066-07:00i'm confused. what is really going on?!? did you think i was writing about you before? well forgetaboutit. i'm sorry but you were flustered and so i got nervous and then i blundered my way through the night insulting your friend's giant fuzzy bowl of a haircut and now he hates me probably and taking advantage of poor drunk types.. anyway there will be lotsa hot art-type chicks and nice Bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13671090677309641707noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5212872.post-1060132032992825402003-08-05T18:07:00.000-07:002003-08-05T18:09:42.573-07:00Oh as i was young and easy in the mercy of his means,
Time held me green and dying
Though i sang in my chains like the sea.
-- Dylan Thomas
These Are a Few of mY Favorite Things:
1. Christy. she did go to Sens and she liked "Art 8" so much! in fact she liked it the bestest, or so she told me in a whisper over the telephone. take that sen. it is her birthday today. i will be going to her Bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13671090677309641707noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5212872.post-1059524477206329112003-07-29T17:21:00.000-07:002003-07-29T17:22:57.723-07:00"De Anima"
we speak of the matter of _____
and sift these boiling stones near the heart.
the phusikos say let the stones fall by the wayside
to see how they lay.
the sufi rumi says tilt upwards instead
and catch the stones in the mouth
as they fall.
the single man left carving lines in the sand
listening for the mermaids on that beach
says forget the stones and throw out the heart
just to feel Bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13671090677309641707noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5212872.post-1059441551776085702003-07-28T18:19:00.000-07:002003-07-28T18:19:11.726-07:00yeah i am excited smog is playing @ the starry plough i am so there i'm back already. and i get to see tullycraft w/ nick pat-a-tooshie. i think he patted some
tooshie the other night hee hee. speaking of loud obnoxious crass boys who seem to take a perverse pleasure in making out w/ as many small people as
possible yet you love them as the ocean is wide, one-third of the new Bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13671090677309641707noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5212872.post-1059441373767993332003-07-28T18:16:00.000-07:002003-07-28T18:16:13.730-07:00i turn on the tele and its sex in the city. sarah j. parker is telling her friend, the ugly one who likes to work out, to "step away from the icing" cuz her friend would not be able to "make those cupcakes and live w/ yourself." then when sarah j. parker's dude shows up on a badass motorcycle she is afraid to get on cuz she's wearing prada and like oh my god i cant have helmet hair and i guess Bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13671090677309641707noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5212872.post-1059441305990354222003-07-28T18:15:00.000-07:002003-07-28T18:15:05.940-07:00i was wearing my alice in wonderland dress when i fell down the rabbit hole. tags version: i am always very drunk or asleep or pretending to be asleep or pretending to be very drunk so i can stop listening and get home and really go to sleep. metaphysics out of the mundane. that is why you are a good storyteller and i am the monkey next to the organ grinder. . Bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13671090677309641707noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5212872.post-1059357075276908562003-07-27T18:51:00.000-07:002003-07-27T18:51:15.110-07:00Krushes in Kronological Order for Drummond-Cole:
1 Mehmet Dosemeci is a small Turkish man with round glasses.
talking to Mehmet is like learning to swim for the first
time when someone pushes you into the deep end. lots of
flailing. he convinced me to help him buy quads and quads
of speed so we could sell it @ cloyne during finals but he
smoked it all instead. he taught me how to clean a Bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13671090677309641707noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5212872.post-1059259897669182712003-07-26T15:51:00.000-07:002003-07-26T15:51:37.653-07:00anup picked me up and twirled me around and i flashed poor peoples my purple panties. i know, purple. laundry day. i did not see christy my new crush but she is still lovely and philosophically sophisticated and probably shits debord in her french dreams and her bangs fall like amber waves of grain over her left eye. eileen and i forgot to smoke opium with zoe and her new boi on friday night.Bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13671090677309641707noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5212872.post-1059259624124477152003-07-26T15:47:00.000-07:002003-07-26T15:49:35.730-07:00i ran to work yesterday all a bout de souffle, late, hungover and cracked out. of course the library's not even open. i was so mad and then i sat in the sun and watched two squirrels squirreling about. one of them tried to steal my bookbag by dragging it away w/ its teeth. apparently he wanted my peach. the squirrel proceeded to fumble through my bookbag, find my peach, calmly pick it up w/ Bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13671090677309641707noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5212872.post-1058742064213643592003-07-20T16:01:00.000-07:002003-07-20T16:01:04.226-07:00um so like tullycraft RULED! and boyracer were totally the bestest! hipster quotient: rather suprisingly high. who knew twee was like this? if there was love-flavored ice cream it would taste of sean tullycraft's sweat and tears. actually he preened alot on stage, which was just a tachisme too how do you say fey pour moi. and the bassist looked like the scary child of kai and westy. Bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13671090677309641707noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5212872.post-1058145921832366702003-07-13T18:25:00.000-07:002003-07-13T18:26:24.466-07:00smacks of bolshevism: tag savage, volkert besseling, lothar hufnagel, sen onishi, paisley strellis, elizabeth aileen beeby, aimee fountain, mehmet dosemeci, seth gold, dong ping-wong, caitlin cota, randall wat and gabriel drummond-cole.
veblen's theory of the leisure class: jesse nicolas hudson, nicholas keller palatucci, christopher william perkins, helen elizabeth miller, erik innocent, thomasBloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13671090677309641707noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5212872.post-1057204185114607332003-07-02T20:49:00.000-07:002003-07-02T20:49:44.983-07:00only six more days before smelly-colored eyes stop smelling and my tongue falls out! boo to the grls who brake harts and the grls who like dem braked harts. boo boo. weird sex degrees of seperation: i think i slept w/ a moor through association. smelly colored eyes are much nicer (tho also more unnerving) than any eyes with equal color distributions. ever. yes indeedy.Bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13671090677309641707noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5212872.post-1057203976478438402003-07-02T20:46:00.000-07:002003-07-02T20:46:16.360-07:00so i'm here at circ staring down at the cover of the book i recalled: "the blackwell guide to the modern philosophers from descartes to nietzsche.' its the kind of cheesy book novi(novices?) read if you didnt bother to learn anything in history 163A which of course i didnt i merely stared at the wavy black hairs on the back of that boys head but mr. moynahan was still nice and i still like Bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13671090677309641707noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5212872.post-1057102139006439852003-07-01T16:28:00.000-07:002003-07-01T16:28:58.930-07:00"small gifts"
on this day
i washed dishes at noon
standing barefoot by the sink
glad for the fact
you hid your intelligence inside
away from me, in a stillness of breath
how that spoke of the other things you could have kept instead
therefore, all these and more
(i count them as they lay at my feet on the kitchen floor)
I do not have to miss.
on this day i read about
the jasmine on Bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13671090677309641707noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5212872.post-959946122003-06-24T14:49:00.000-07:002003-06-24T14:49:40.790-07:00the summer before moving to new york i met a girl with funny-colored eyes who smelled like the dirt that strawberries grew in. when i kissed her i tasted all the different fruits that came from the soil. the back of her ears hid flesh the color of pink moons and our skins made nice popping noises when they bumped up against each other in the middle of the night. it didnt matter if i always forgotBloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13671090677309641707noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5212872.post-949554592003-05-27T13:28:00.000-07:002003-05-27T13:28:00.483-07:00its good to have low expectations. now i'm at eileens roasting a wienie. kai really went all out for his barbeque. color me impressed. maybe later i'll go to emilys graduation bonfire. and then tomorrow we're going to have a pizza pie for peters birthday. i start german class in two weeks and the luxury of being paid to fondle books all day in less than that!! i like summer all of a sudden.
i Bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13671090677309641707noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5212872.post-945653202003-05-18T22:00:00.000-07:002003-05-18T22:00:12.380-07:00the desert doesn't hate the rain, it just lacks it. a masochist only misses pain until it gets a chance to inflict it upon itself, which for any competent masochist, will not be too long. and again doesn't rhyme with either. you're mortifyingly heedless.
remember that day after you introduced me to lois the pie queen when i found out that jessie died after all that sad drama w/ phillip's 'Bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13671090677309641707noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5212872.post-944007212003-05-15T10:33:00.000-07:002003-05-15T10:33:01.610-07:00sorry this blog-ting is tearing my hair out from its black black roots. yatch like beeyatch will be learnding to play bass in her room anticipating the day "breaking hearts" will do yours since mine is already so. and princess blah blah blah is a really good song like melrose place is a really good show and reality bites is a homewrecker of a movie. those who vote for shitty go to comment box a. Bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13671090677309641707noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5212872.post-942887312003-05-13T14:29:00.000-07:002003-05-13T14:30:52.000-07:00overheard @ various points in the night: "i'm gonna be drunk, so drunk, at your wedding!", "girl what you give me, its pure gold. it makes me feel like i'm four years old. its outta control, its outta control.", "this party has too much fashion man!", "i really like your teeth", "you look like you should be in the quick" (fr. jon & luis pansy division), "it smells like a period in here!", "here Bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13671090677309641707noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5212872.post-915001382003-03-27T12:31:00.000-08:002003-03-27T12:38:21.000-08:00;-(Bloghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13671090677309641707noreply@blogger.com