| Saturday, February 26, 2005 |
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| Why? |
| posted @ 03:33:00 MST by bryn |
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| Sunday, February 20, 2005 |
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| uniquity |
| posted @ 02:20:00 MST by bryn |
Fuckin' great word, ain't it?
Especially when it means something... |
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| Saturday, February 19, 2005 |
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| Idiography |
| posted @ 03:10:00 MST by bryn |
Feelings wash over me like flame,
The billowing, washing warmth burning whatever the moments of the life of fire offer.
Water, the same and soft but only when and without the torrent of fury.
Reaching out, holding back, trying but not to find the perfect moment between. |
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| Saturday, February 5, 2005 |
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| Influction Undying |
| posted @ 02:53:00 MST by bryn |
Maybe it's not the work and world bringing me down. They are simple constants, I am the distinct variable in this equation, and most of the time I am empty, null, void.
My life is not the work, at least it shouldn't be. What comes after that? I think right here there's supposed to be something else - something that acts as a counter-balance for the work.
I've utterly and completely lost sight of the things that make me happy. Instead, I wallow in accidentally found distractions. It's almost that the repetition itself has become the comfort. The predictability is the welcoming and embracing... The only "supposed to be" I can find. The loops of time and days themselves are ringlets of hair twisting slowly around the finger of a beautiful but not faceless singular only woman.
I wake in the morning and she's already up and gone, ahead of me (always and that's one of so many things I love) and that side of the bed is so, so cold, colder than when I fell asleep without her and the same stupid fantasy. |
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| Friday, February 4, 2005 |
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| Oh yeah, I know why |
| posted @ 02:06:00 MST by bryn |
| Because I'll do anything to avoid caring, committing, admitting, loving, seeing, feeling, being, wanting, hoping, aching, hurting, numbing, accepting, repeating, waking, facing, forgiving, savoring, smiling, living. Truth hurts. |
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| Get into the Spirit (or die) |
| posted @ 01:42:00 MST by bryn |
It's been over a month since I wanted to post this. Why so long? I'm still trying to figure that out.
The season hit me most dead on sitting in a stall, taking a dump. There I found myself, pants down, listening to "Holly Jolly Christmas".
(Note: Just to piss off my 9th grade English teacher I have and will forever always put my sentence-ending punctuation outside my quotes unless I damned well feel like it. The motherfucking idea started outside them and should end outside them motherfucker, unless it didn't.) Oops... motherfucker, unless it didn't). I crack myself up.
There I found myself, pants down, surrounded by the false walls of everyone and all, but defined - and one inch thick with metal hinges and a multitude of flat colors for your shithouse construction needs. Here I am listening to one bad ceiling speaker's worth of "Holly Jolly Christmas". Surreal it most certainly was - being crapped on by piped in xmas music while in mid-crap. Oddly enough, it wasn't so bad on the day after Halloween when the holly started showing up on menus and store ads. Back then it was almost - almost a subtle thing: Subliminal is probably the correct, accepted, wanted word more likely. (Please excuse my attempted and poorly executed sublimality.)
It's now the xmas quarter. They've always called it the "xmas season" but I guess with a 3+ month duration it's official now. Only (N + (Y - 7)) shopping days remaining to strain your stripped, livid wallet.
So, anyway, there I am, taking a dump and listening to the dulcet tones of recycled carol on an old ceiling speaker. Someone comes in with a hurry and quickly takes over the stall next to me. He barely makes half-cheek contact with the paper ass-gasket when a wave of explosive diarrhea blasts out with a ringing wave of accompanying flatulence.
Perfect.
Xmas, beautiful xmas. Crapping down, coating everything and everyone until complete and utter saturation is achieved... Stewing it it.
At least there's relief for one of us. Get it all out. Quickly. Done - a quarter of consume, constipate, and wait for the one 25th morning xmas gift enema.
"Have a holly, jolly xmas". Make it stop.
The more the song plays, the more I'm not sure which I want to hear - the guy trying to throttle his own asshole in the midst of his own dirty personal shitstorm or the full-throttle hard-sell of enforced hallucinatory sleigh bells.
Maybe they just go together that well, like butthole karaoke. (Butthole karaoke may be a bit more redundant than I anticipated, seeing it on paper and all.)
"Sing brother, sing! Ti's the season, belt it out."
Rampancy, it's an epidemic.
Seems hypocritical to think anything odd of religions with month-long or longer holidays when the common denominator has a whole quarter set aside, devoted to honoring the almighty dollar - deity of capitalism, the true "western religion".
I don't think it's a coincidence that the biggest "religious" holiday in america is also the one on which the most money is spent. Duh. When did people start buying things for other people on xmas? Did a memo go out that we all missed? Where is the point of origin?
I think originally it was probably about being together but people got so bad at that, they needed to sweeten the pot by pushing off the attention to shiny things and the distraction of ingrained tradition. Filling the hollow cavernous, carnivorous void with more and more and more crap... Shiny, bow-laden, paper-wrapped crap. The mental image I have adds whole new meaning to "yule log"... A nice roasting turd with canned fart noises instead of crackling... Roasting corn and peanuts on an open fire.
Merry fucking ho-ho. |
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