Tuesday, May 09, 2006
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A blog about the New York artworld, body modification, mythical beasts, getting high, and wanting to die.
A blog about the New York artworld, body modification, mythical beasts, getting high, and wanting to die.
88 comments:
Hello to you from my swampy heart!
It is murky in here, too many shoots and soggy soggy roots.
Yes I understand. I am swampy too in the heart region, the heart understands little, it tries to tangle around the parts of others but accidentally strangles them.
I forgive you in spite of your way of the dunce cap.
Yes is...
-aL
Yes is...
-aL
who is "Yes" again?
this swamp is tre murky.
Hi Arnheim. You are interesting. Yes is hopeful at the very least.
the murky swamps are swallowing the callow heart of darkness and witnessing to the lost souls in the corporeal dark hiding places of the inner testicals.
portent of something new to think about. Ponder this. There are no gods, only godletts. Giblets also are part of the wholeness and whole foods are key in this arena. Okay. SO never estimate under or over inside and within there are contexts that are not known inside the hollows.
No way. Are you serious? The giblets.
just think of the systems inside of the other systems. The tiny particles that flood your system inside your systemic floods. why do you ask? Only because we all deserve more inside this stratisphere. Only that is the constant withering statement from cosmic timeliness. Listen to the amplified life force.
I have to emerge from the murk. I will start by washing my armpits. Picking the cheese from my teeth.
I will try anonymous. It sounds smelly.
cravings and wants are not inside you. They are outside too. I have mine own and I try... I try and try to tame me and yours. So that it is constant troubles. Oh lord.
Is the amplified life force considered gassy?
Constant troubles...I hear you.
But why do you call it smelly. It is the stench of life. The life force inside the timeless souls.
My cock is considered a rocket.
gassy in the sense of wholeness. True life off-gasses. It plagues the body when it doesn't need to. The gasses are the mixed thoughts inside.
The rocket goes where? It goes to the skies and inside the skies it shuttles your thoughts.
I called it smelly because I am frightened. i am lowly.
The rocket is limp just now from too much drinking. But soon I promise it will transform into a cock of rushes.
you are not lowly. You are inside the spiritual belly. it is keeping you warm and gestating truth.
I want to hold you anonymous. In the flesh of my fatty chamber.
people are shuttling a football back and forth beside my head. I am scared.
I want you to wear my beard like a shirt. Or at least a vest.
Bite them.
Talk about tv. They will respond to you with love.
you are the flesh MM. You are the flesh, the tissue, the fat, the bile, the blood, the toenail. I am also this flesh and tissue and fat and bile and blood and toenail. We are hugging in our truth.
You can use me as a fulcrum. I am supportive.
we are all the fulcrum. You are jazzy and I feel snazzy. this jazz snazz is the marrow in the bone.
can I return to tv and the loss of life? can I tell you how to harness the "law and order" within the body. It is a show about wholeness. Beginning middle completion. I like the resolve as does my body.
Remember the snazzy dashes? I think you know how I feel - SO GREAT.
harness it with your nails. Hold on and do not lose your job, heart and consuming passions for training.
I know your small tush likes the resolution best.
I can harness you for real.
I know how you feel, but I am worried. My boss doesn't respond. There is a manic exhilaration emerging.
That is resolved within the anus. Is that your concern?
I am in a harness already, being guided into forgetful slumber. My temperature is raised to a maximum of 108 degrees in the shade. I am caving under the pressure of rabid foam.
Your boss must respond post-haste. You must be in accordance with the wishes.
are you in a bubble? are you holding your breath?
I am not sure about the boss. My boss is my master really. My master and I do her bidding. I am a hollow bidder.
Hollow bidders are the sweetest type of bidder. I am sweaty too. I am in a bubble of my own making, it is damp.
my bubble is not damp. It is spongy. I bid for nothing important. but I try to be sweet.
Yes, yes, yes, yes.
I am swimming in the swamp with you, mm.
Oh good, PD. I was feeling lonely in the steamy bog.
YES!
But wait...forgive you for being truly excellent...?
NEVER!
Come into the bog Capt'n. It is the steamy bog of forgetfulness, on top of forgiveness. It is value added.
I am craving the lunacy of the hamburger.
Hamburgers and hot dogs in the bog!! Capt'n, please bring the condiments.
bog burgers. mmmmm. swamp fries.
yum.
I'm already there, in my mind's eye.
Will we see the swamp painted, when we see you?
Will we know it when we see it?
Will it sing swampy lieder through your paintings?
Will it be a fractal swamp, deconstructed into a myriad swamplet components?
please help i've trapped my neighbors complaints, his lies and rants. now i want to kill them. nicely; thinking precious and maybe tip of the organ, stimulating thoughts. how to do?
Dig if you will, a picture of you and I engaged in a kiss....
This is what my pesky neighbor is blasting at 8am!! I do love Prince, so it ain't that bad.
Hi Flora L., thank you for your lovely note. I am looking forward to viewing you this weekend. The swampy lieder will emanate on your head is what I am hoping and you will feel earthly calm.
Whipit and Vapes. Let's kill the neighbors. There is no reason for them to live. Right?
I am drilling a hole in the floor, so I can infiltrate with the gases.
You might consider a juice spilling through the hole. Stickiness everywhere. Or even better - cough syrup.
I will come and play tricks on the neighbors if you like.
I will come and play tricks on the neighbors if you like.
my neighbor woke me this morning bouncing a ball against the wall . over and over and over and over. I want to take a steam dump on his welcome mat.
Hi MM, I see you as have glowing sparkles and bush chatter caught in you beard. Do you smell like lilac and musk?
hey! how come I am stuttering? I don't get it.
Hiya punks!!!!!! ARGHY. I am going witless feckless hapless and smokeless today. It is nude. I am crazed.
hahaaaha goblin stutttters. nya nya
hi MM, I smell like diesel fuel today, and my pits are ripe with worry. how are you?
I smell like fuel today too. BURNING UP on rage against nothing. I swear to you that I am against all things. For real.
I'll kill anyone who needs killing. i want to go to jail, I need a rest.
I need a rest. Please kill me.
Jail. Mental hospital. Retirement home. I'll take it. Just put me away and let me sleep. I wouldn't even mind if I got raped.
MM, I am the only one administering the rapes here...you hear?
hey mm...i'm going to check out your exhibitionism on my lunch break. that is, if i get one.
Thanks WW. I see you tomorrow though too, right, my little fresca pudding pop?
You better get a break. You march right out of there when it's time. Breaks are a must. F them.
you are salty and full of brine today MM. lets harpoon some whales and bathe in the tofu blubber.
I would love that. Tofu blubber sounds maximum exciting fun in all areas.
i like to squat in it, pinch my butt cheeks together and let is squirt out my coin slot.
You arelucky to have a coin slot.
what is inside the coin slot?
i am salty too. it must be the low barometric pressure. i feel entirely flaky, like work is a joke or something. could that be?
mm, i will be there fo sho. i am bringing a rusty old anchor which i plan to tease you with. the rope will simultaneously tether. i hope you're ready.
work is a joke I think. I just smile and perform tasks. Salt is supposed to be blissful.
lion king, you are welcome to drop coinage, pence, or booty in my coin slot any time. watch what happens!
labor is crap, i wish i was on crack
Unfortunately my ship has sent me on permanent shore leave. I must find land work. i miss the sea, I miss the salt. im no longer a sea captin, what should i call myself? What is a land luber?
I love the sea too Captin. I wish I was there now.
I'm with you on this sea cap. I am marooned on shore with the infidels. SOS.
my tears are still salty and my barnicle itches all night.
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