Friday, July 11, 2008
Never had such a feeling, actually not so true, have had it many times, everybody doing their thing while I while away my time on the couch couched in remembrance of my deeds under the influence writing white wings understating things stings my memory want to scream but theres nothing but memes to utter in my madness a series of delicately crafted cliches, a cultural catechism, axioms of americana. Many cannot understand it and that's okay can't complain about what arrives in my mailbox but I read the letters and I save em anyway, file em away without rhyme or reason in the middle of the room. I read em over when no one's watching and have no recourse but to smile, though I couldn't explain the humor to anyone. Speeding through a hopeless isolation which gives its own kind of relief, laments itself but satisfies nonetheless, a self-contained untouchable experience which provides its own tension, catharsis, and comfort. You can watch and understand or else you don't get it so you can wrack your mind trying to figure the madness out or you can sit there scratching your head or you can bust your brain cells over this snafu. Or you can wait and maybe the humor comes to you, ineffable but inexorable and you do what you can to acknowledge it or else it passes and it was all yours for an instant. It'll take forever to figure that shit out.MYW at 12:13 AM
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