There is absolutely no pathway I can find to existing happily amongst others. I am uncomfortable in my trousers, which are tan, and I am sure I am being pointed at and laughed at when I walk by a row of co-types. I can barely stand to be around people, it pains me, it contorts me into a twisted nerd shape. I don't want to be visible anymore, I would like to recede fully into the shadows. There is an unsteadiness, and an unfitness that is shameful. I am deeply ashamed and the stains on my tan trousers are proof of my wrongness.
I am looking for moist towelettes to clean up the mess. I am looking for anaesthetics.
Listen my intestines are strewn about the room. I am waiting until the winds of the mind die down before I gather them and stuff them back inside. Things are complex here. I am at a loss to explain myself.
The complexity is rooted in antic foolishness that comes into me even when I ask it not to. The antic foolishness disassembles the guts, weakens the legs. The cause is negligible but wreaks havoc anyway.
The leader has left the compound. He has summoned the dark forces for a take over and a unification crisis. there was a war, a bird and a vulture. The magical signs aligned but then were undone. There is a kingdom on the inside. The soldiers are under fire.
The soldiers are bunions, warts. They will get filed down with an emory board. The king is in the butter. I am hardly anything anymore. Transcendental Meditation is my only hope.
I am making a concerted effort. My raging is appeased only by rats. live. I must be have blood to atone for the dangers within and without. There are tortures awaiting. there are constant variations on the theme. The rob and the paul are the ones to watch for. Sometimes when I am sleeping I begin to question the legitamacy of my undertakings. I wonder if a lion can create change in the world and kill the wizards which must be punished. Yes, my friend. It is possible. But time is needed.
Remission is in order. Arrange the veins into a mathematical round-up. A plexus of dissonance and unity all in one. Eat the sand from the eroded beaches and gum your mouths up with gelatin. I love you.
I know I'm a little late here but WooWoo! Great Blart exhibit MM. I hearts the Milton Avery and all your choices. And the Paul Nash, Woah. I gotta look into him, it's new to me...
oy, i just had an earful on ed w's blog about escapism in art post from yesterday. why do people like specifics so much? i think the best way to address the outside world is from the inside.
how did the magic mind melding ceremony go? did the underpant/syringe charm hold?
64 comments:
Hearts and more hearts! Please name....or are these your undergrad pictures??
Blart keeps getting better and better.
goya, leonora carrington, picabia, milton avery, i dunno, paul nash
thanks pd. no they are not my undergrad works. you silly goose.
These are dark forces. I am very heartened, I know I can find a place for myself here.
I know...I was just being silly. I really like the Nash, and of course Avery and Picabia....
I am gearing up for a fight at high noon. This fight will be about intellectual property. How dumb.
Theatrical Mystic Lawyer, I am available for help if you need me. Are you ok?
i LOVE the horseys! Blart rules.
it's funny - the minute i see these i fall in love again with painting!! so inspiring
Hi FB. Horseys love you back.
BSD, please help! Or maybe PD can give me the slicer?
Victims are accumulating along the mandatory avenues. Piling up into charmless clumps. I bite.
these are lovely.
i want to make a painting like that picabia. i am now obsessed with it.
I heart the Carrington.
Me too. I am on a road to nowheres.
love your selection, mm! the carrington rocks... they all are great. You are great.
There is absolutely no pathway I can find to existing happily amongst others. I am uncomfortable in my trousers, which are tan, and I am sure I am being pointed at and laughed at when I walk by a row of co-types. I can barely stand to be around people, it pains me, it contorts me into a twisted nerd shape. I don't want to be visible anymore, I would like to recede fully into the shadows. There is an unsteadiness, and an unfitness that is shameful. I am deeply ashamed and the stains on my tan trousers are proof of my wrongness.
I am looking for moist towelettes to clean up the mess. I am looking for anaesthetics.
YOU are great, your Slothness.
Pats to everyone who wants them from my slimy pork chop hands.
Goon, I think we all understand where you are coming from. You need a fistful of bennies and a few lines of coke.
I need to become miniature. Bennies would be good too. Coke is not a good idea, I am allergic.
mm! love the selection. Especially the carrington. Timeless......
MM, I need to speak with chewed up baby.
Krix, you called? How can I help you? I am so grossed out today.
Hi Hams. How goes it?
maelstrom I am fine, except for intestinal distress. How are you?
there is churning
Listen my intestines are strewn about the room. I am waiting until the winds of the mind die down before I gather them and stuff them back inside. Things are complex here. I am at a loss to explain myself.
why complex? The intestines are ordered in a random fashion. They can be stuffed in willy nilly. Please do.
I have new compelling intestinal distress. More tests! More barium in free flow. White droppings.
The complexity is rooted in antic foolishness that comes into me even when I ask it not to. The antic foolishness disassembles the guts, weakens the legs. The cause is negligible but wreaks havoc anyway.
White droppings....like bird droppings?
yes. except larger. This is the barium glow.
maybe play the worst case scenario game. That calms me. The worst is less deadly than anticipation
Miniature action figures are festooned in me. I am poorly attended to and allowed to get out of control.
oh muck. please contain the soldiers. They need direction.
I will try. I will try to gain access to containment powers. Get in line. Order yourselves.
It is trying to reveal onesself.
We won't! We have no orders we run inside your tubes. We have super powers and hungers inside the ranks. I am truth when I follow.
The leader has left the compound. He has summoned the dark forces for a take over and a unification crisis. there was a war, a bird and a vulture. The magical signs aligned but then were undone. There is a kingdom on the inside. The soldiers are under fire.
The soldiers are bunions, warts. They will get filed down with an emory board. The king is in the butter. I am hardly anything anymore. Transcendental Meditation is my only hope.
Presence is dreaded. Negation is desired.
King and soldiers, it high time the troops are rallied to battle sirs. shed your fears! The battle is nigh.
I cannot go to battle. I will not betray my masters.
transcendental meditation is a cult. I know a certain Max who had to go to therapy because of it. BEWARE my dark horse.
tears of compunction, you are weak willed. Your flesh is marred by quivering angst.
follow the pressure points. FOLLOW closely to the nearest dent in the mind's constant whisper. It is not a scream. It must be considered.
I am going into a battle of the soul.
the soul is already left. It is now a lost child. But fear not. there is a lion inside the child. It's name is priest
mystic liver, I think you have already battled on top of my soul. Please be gone.
ahhhh, priest. I know him well.
the priest is reciting incantations... the vibrations are thrumming.
krix! the battle must be fought. You will be the victor. It is the cuntbag who must be punished. I will poke first.
I am rummaging around for my gently used weaponry. aHA! The mace.
I will swing it ferociously. Get out of my way cuntbag. I will strike.
I am making a concerted effort. My raging is appeased only by rats. live. I must be have blood to atone for the dangers within and without. There are tortures awaiting. there are constant variations on the theme. The rob and the paul are the ones to watch for. Sometimes when I am sleeping I begin to question the legitamacy of my undertakings. I wonder if a lion can create change in the world and kill the wizards which must be punished. Yes, my friend. It is possible. But time is needed.
rats. I have to go. school night.
dang. just when it was getting good.
krix. It is for your own good. I wish for your love and comfort. YES! It must happen. The seer has spoken.
goodbye krixfort. May the rat be with you.
Remission is in order. Arrange the veins into a mathematical round-up. A plexus of dissonance and unity all in one. Eat the sand from the eroded beaches and gum your mouths up with gelatin. I love you.
I have the hammer of transfixion for you. I have the knives of diffidence. Bend over and prepare your anus for a plumbing.
I will be the twin surgeon. There is much work to do.
I know I'm a little late here but WooWoo! Great Blart exhibit MM. I hearts the Milton Avery and all your choices. And the Paul Nash, Woah. I gotta look into him, it's new to me...
What a lovely display of paintings! Did you make all of these?
hi mm,
oy, i just had an earful on ed w's blog about escapism in art post from yesterday. why do people like specifics so much? i think the best way to address the outside world is from the inside.
how did the magic mind melding ceremony go? did the underpant/syringe charm hold?
Hi mm! If wizard is smart you will be snapped up like the delicious morsel that you are.
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