hmm mm mm hmm mm mm moan moan i tossed the I Ching it told me to buy a house and settle down OR to move to a Big City and live with a Pretty Girl who would make me follow my dreams i follow koans and i eh eh i eh i eheh eh moan moan sour-puss
That's a shame! :( I don't own my mind today, it's out on loan to the corporation. I am a vacuous vacuum. It's sucking my will to live. I am full of grey and it matters not to them--I am matterless! It's fantastic and great for morale!
I want to bathe in chocolate milk and then go stand out in the cold and the snow and turn into a chocolate popsicle, lick-a-dee-split
Forget your perfect offering, there is a crack in everything, that's how the light gets in. - Leonard Cohen
really good high you get when you smoke the last of your bag and you start reminising about all the times you've stoned and you're pretty sure this is the most and then you realize that it probably is
really good high you get when you smoke the last of your bag and you start reminising about all the times you've stoned and you're pretty sure this is the most and then you realize that it probably is
from the wayside farside nearside upside downside part of town and my feet feels a little lighter and my heart feels a little heavier but i think that's probably a good thing and i had a dream that my cat died
when your tea kettle was tipping and pouring and spilling and i was in a dreamlike state or at elast really stoned but you didn't really know because i never told you that i did so many drugs and all the time and i think you might hate me a little bit if i said so but your body radiates heat just like you say mine does and maybe that's why you couldn't sleep so well saturday night and why i couldn't remember any of my dreams which i usually do or maybe that performance we saw the one with teh dream sequence and the man in the moon swinging by a rope and Lonesome Pete and his ghost horse and all the birds and lizards maybe that was too surreal and it fucked up my head or maybe it was just all those kisses you layed on my face and neck i'm just not sure
i go back in some dream and i'm going back to each other dream and taking away all the bad-bad parts and all the good-good parts and rearranging them all and peicing things together like a puzzle of a muzzled dog but all the peices fit too perfect and all along teh way because i can change any peice the picture starts to look more like a white blankslate and then even worse teh white starts to disappear and there is no color and there isn't even a clear spot there's just nothing and even the word nothing which brings in lots of memories and experiences and joy adn hate and wonder even that word can't describe what your puzzle looks like because its not so much a puzzle anymore and its not so much an anythign anymore but you can sort of feel it but you jsut go back and change that so you can feel it and then of course it disappears more and more untli your just sitting in a cofortable recliner adn just going back and re-doing everything in your life constantly with no stops becasue everythign you ever do is a mistake in some way down the line or at least you know or think it will be and eventually you just want your real life your first life back you want that muzzled dog picture with the flower garden in teh background with the dirty shovel leaning against the chipped-paint fence and teh re barn and the street lights adn hobos and spit on the sidewalk and the tall buildings and the opil and the scummed-up air and all that but then of course you're back to square one with your original life that you never went back and changed
i go back in some dream and i'm going back to each other dream and taking away all the bad-bad parts and all the good-good parts and rearranging them all and peicing things together like a puzzle of a muzzled dog but all the peices fit too perfect and all along teh way because i can change any peice the picture starts to look more like a white blankslate and then even worse teh white starts to disappear and there is no color and there isn't even a clear spot there's just nothing and even the word nothing which brings in lots of memories and experiences and joy adn hate and wonder even that word can't describe what your puzzle looks like because its not so much a puzzle anymore and its not so much an anythign anymore but you can sort of feel it but you jsut go back and change that so you can feel it and then of course it disappears more and more untli your just sitting in a cofortable recliner adn just going back and re-doing everything in your life constantly with no stops becasue everythign you ever do is a mistake in some way down the line or at least you know or think it will be and eventually you just want your real life your first life back you want that muzzled dog picture with the flower garden in teh background with the dirty shovel leaning against the chipped-paint fence and teh re barn and the street lights adn hobos and spit on the sidewalk and the tall buildings and the opil and the scummed-up air and all that but then of course you're back to square one with your original life that you never went back and changed
I see a little inspiration in here from our friend coleen--that's fantastic! ps.SPANK!
Forget your perfect offering, there is a crack in everything, that's how the light gets in. - Leonard Cohen
i can't stop smiling or touching you or looking at your brown-green eyes that i maybe wrote that one song about while i was staying up for days on drugs and vitamins and dreamstates
dreaming about vampire zombies that you have to kill by tricking them into eating cake or Wheat Thins and how all oyu have to do is lock your doors and they can't get you and then a woman shows up with these dark red rimmed glasses and she's almost magic and can turn the vampire zombies back inot real people by just touching them so you and her go around the world saving everybody and then you wake up:
or its like this:
there's a car at your work with a nuclear bomb the atom bomb in fact the one that killed all those people in Japan and you have to line up out side with your department like a fire drill and you're not quite sure its a good idea to be outside and then your brother shows up and tells everyone to get the fuck inside or they'll die even though they'll die anyway and your mom tries to save your cat and your dad is sweating a hell of a lot because he's in charge of everyone and you get into your car and drive so fast away from your job feeling scared and satisfied and then the bomb goes off and its a multitude of colors like blue and green and orangeorangeorange and its funny because you always thought a nuclear blast would be orange if you were ever in one and then you get home and that's when everyone is becoming vampire zombies
Originally posted by Goulet this is the way it goes sometimes:
dreaming about vampire zombies that you have to kill by tricking them into eating cake or Wheat Thins and how all oyu have to do is lock your doors and they can't get you and then a woman shows up with these dark red rimmed glasses and she's almost magic and can turn the vampire zombies back inot real people by just touching them so you and her go around the world saving everybody and then you wake up:
or its like this:
there's a car at your work with a nuclear bomb the atom bomb in fact the one that killed all those people in Japan and you have to line up out side with your department like a fire drill and you're not quite sure its a good idea to be outside and then your brother shows up and tells everyone to get the fuck inside or they'll die even though they'll die anyway and your mom tries to save your cat and your dad is sweating a hell of a lot because he's in charge of everyone and you get into your car and drive so fast away from your job feeling scared and satisfied and then the bomb goes off and its a multitude of colors like blue and green and orangeorangeorange and its funny because you always thought a nuclear blast would be orange if you were ever in one and then you get home and that's when everyone is becoming vampire zombies
im really worried about Goulet. i think the mods turned him into a zombieRobacrombie andFitch bitchs.
the rain clouds being thick and full of water and me not quite knowing how they were full of water and so baggy and wet mostly because i was young or am young or something like that but anyway and everything and because of those rain storm thunder lightening clouds my self-inflicted sorrow seemed a little less dreary and sad and horrible but maybe it was just teh fact that you and your dark-rimmed glasses were telling me how religious you are and how you're Methodist and Jewish or both or one or the other but either way i take you in my arms and you say something like how its a perfect fit and how you get so turned on when i touch you or brush up against your leg or back or when i look at you or something like
Forget your perfect offering, there is a crack in everything, that's how the light gets in. - Leonard Cohen
that you said soemthing like that and it was in the morning when everything outside was wet and cold and full of ice and covered in a thick skin and yawning a little but most of all when you told me how you don't like to believe in nothing but you're not quite so sure what to believe in that made me smile and you were smiling because i think you always smile except whne you ask me if i'm going to turn into a horrible person or a dinosaur or a two-winged plane with giant helicopter blades that don't so much move as tell sarcastic jokes to hide thier insecruities and hide their fears of lots of stuff or something like that and i think that you and your dark-rimmed glass and Mississippi Lips and brown-green eyes are such a figment of my imagined dreamstate and you just appeared to me out of teh blue-black chasm so i'm so astonished by you and can't believe in much of anything anymore but want to believe in everything while we're dancing to real Detroit rock music and real Homespun Country music the kind with twang and the kind that makes all this almost seem real or something like that and not just a painting of six literature students walking to class through a grass amll on a campus somewhere in the lush-lush South sometime in the Springtime which you say i've never really seen.
Forget your perfect offering, there is a crack in everything, that's how the light gets in. - Leonard Cohen
Originally posted by Radar(Baba)O'Riley Being Goulet
No, no, no! I am only the channel by which the ghost of Goulet is speaking. (I'm playing with the ouija board all by myself again :eek: ) I think he should be reincarnated as username: professional slimeball.
Forget your perfect offering, there is a crack in everything, that's how the light gets in. - Leonard Cohen
and the dream was hopped up like marsupial ghosts hovering above cloud iridescence rainbows that remind me of colorshimmer swirls at the tuba museum and international eatery....
sorta blurry, but it kept going in fuzzy metallic guitar licks soothing the backs of invisible giraffes and jellyfish expand to fit jade waves or read Hermann Hesse while
on the hot drowsy copperbottomedpots, swinging from the kitchen ceiling and im almost awake but still confused and dreaming and probably
swimming (again) with the endorphiny brain chemicals too and coffee compressed to the strength of sweet tar and mostly
i love the colors getting all melting again when purrs in the twilight excellence of soft visions and fingertips covered with lemonjuice and eyelashes are like morphidae butterflies and so much for pies to be happy, too
the sun coming down hard between the palm trees.
yeh but it was SEA SALT and the little sparkling flecks it made on skin and mica chips in the wet sand and decided it should always be tuesday, because that was yesterday and we can remember it like making it up Only Better. and my butterflies see pretties and get sorta feathery by the fountain, and Art, and then there were the wet colorsAgain ultraviolet in secretplaces and DEEP
Comments
hmm mm mm hmm mm mm moan moan i tossed the I Ching it told me to buy a house and settle down OR to move to a Big City and live with a Pretty Girl who would make me follow my dreams i follow koans and i eh eh i eh i eheh eh moan moan sour-puss
happy and my heart feels like:
flutter fluter fluter flutter flutes and bells and flutterflutterflutter:
girls will all be the end of me
i have no stories yet
That's a shame! :( I don't own my mind today, it's out on loan to the corporation. I am a vacuous vacuum. It's sucking my will to live. I am full of grey and it matters not to them--I am matterless! It's fantastic and great for morale!
I want to bathe in chocolate milk and then go stand out in the cold and the snow and turn into a chocolate popsicle, lick-a-dee-split
i could unhinge my jaw
really good high you get when you smoke the last of your bag and you start reminising about all the times you've stoned and you're pretty sure this is the most and then you realize that it probably is
do you like grilled peanut butter and jelly?
from the wayside farside nearside upside downside part of town and my feet feels a little lighter and my heart feels a little heavier but i think that's probably a good thing and i had a dream that my cat died
when your tea kettle was tipping and pouring and spilling and i was in a dreamlike state or at elast really stoned but you didn't really know because i never told you that i did so many drugs and all the time and i think you might hate me a little bit if i said so but your body radiates heat just like you say mine does and maybe that's why you couldn't sleep so well saturday night and why i couldn't remember any of my dreams which i usually do or maybe that performance we saw the one with teh dream sequence and the man in the moon swinging by a rope and Lonesome Pete and his ghost horse and all the birds and lizards maybe that was too surreal and it fucked up my head or maybe it was just all those kisses you layed on my face and neck i'm just not sure
#66 string
Hey, Joe
Johns, Jims
see
e
a
dos
wet
maggie's
may
i
si,
Mescaline
i go back in some dream and i'm going back to each other dream and taking away all the bad-bad parts and all the good-good parts and rearranging them all and peicing things together like a puzzle of a muzzled dog but all the peices fit too perfect and all along teh way because i can change any peice the picture starts to look more like a white blankslate and then even worse teh white starts to disappear and there is no color and there isn't even a clear spot there's just nothing and even the word nothing which brings in lots of memories and experiences and joy adn hate and wonder even that word can't describe what your puzzle looks like because its not so much a puzzle anymore and its not so much an anythign anymore but you can sort of feel it but you jsut go back and change that so you can feel it and then of course it disappears more and more untli your just sitting in a cofortable recliner adn just going back and re-doing everything in your life constantly with no stops becasue everythign you ever do is a mistake in some way down the line or at least you know or think it will be and eventually you just want your real life your first life back you want that muzzled dog picture with the flower garden in teh background with the dirty shovel leaning against the chipped-paint fence and teh re barn and the street lights adn hobos and spit on the sidewalk and the tall buildings and the opil and the scummed-up air and all that but then of course you're back to square one with your original life that you never went back and changed
I see a little inspiration in here from our friend coleen--that's fantastic! ps.SPANK!
i can't stop smiling or touching you or looking at your brown-green eyes that i maybe wrote that one song about while i was staying up for days on drugs and vitamins and dreamstates
for my emotions
dreaming about vampire zombies that you have to kill by tricking them into eating cake or Wheat Thins and how all oyu have to do is lock your doors and they can't get you and then a woman shows up with these dark red rimmed glasses and she's almost magic and can turn the vampire zombies back inot real people by just touching them so you and her go around the world saving everybody and then you wake up:
or its like this:
there's a car at your work with a nuclear bomb the atom bomb in fact the one that killed all those people in Japan and you have to line up out side with your department like a fire drill and you're not quite sure its a good idea to be outside and then your brother shows up and tells everyone to get the fuck inside or they'll die even though they'll die anyway and your mom tries to save your cat and your dad is sweating a hell of a lot because he's in charge of everyone and you get into your car and drive so fast away from your job feeling scared and satisfied and then the bomb goes off and its a multitude of colors like blue and green and orangeorangeorange and its funny because you always thought a nuclear blast would be orange if you were ever in one and then you get home and that's when everyone is becoming vampire zombies
Get back! (Honky-cat)
Get back to where you once belonged!
I hope that when you get in here, that you can get in here!!!!!!!:)
SPANK! Hope you're not zinged for good!
im really worried about Goulet. i think the mods turned him into a zombieRobacrombie andFitch bitchs.
Missing your English Teacher's words of wisdom here!
My English teacher always said I should believe in ghosts.
I'm in a Kansas plain-land and I'm heavy-bored and I'm silly.
So this dream goes like this, sort of:
the rain clouds being thick and full of water and me not quite knowing how they were full of water and so baggy and wet mostly because i was young or am young or something like that but anyway and everything and because of those rain storm thunder lightening clouds my self-inflicted sorrow seemed a little less dreary and sad and horrible but maybe it was just teh fact that you and your dark-rimmed glasses were telling me how religious you are and how you're Methodist and Jewish or both or one or the other but either way i take you in my arms and you say something like how its a perfect fit and how you get so turned on when i touch you or brush up against your leg or back or when i look at you or something like
that you said soemthing like that and it was in the morning when everything outside was wet and cold and full of ice and covered in a thick skin and yawning a little but most of all when you told me how you don't like to believe in nothing but you're not quite so sure what to believe in that made me smile and you were smiling because i think you always smile except whne you ask me if i'm going to turn into a horrible person or a dinosaur or a two-winged plane with giant helicopter blades that don't so much move as tell sarcastic jokes to hide thier insecruities and hide their fears of lots of stuff or something like that and i think that you and your dark-rimmed glass and Mississippi Lips and brown-green eyes are such a figment of my imagined dreamstate and you just appeared to me out of teh blue-black chasm so i'm so astonished by you and can't believe in much of anything anymore but want to believe in everything while we're dancing to real Detroit rock music and real Homespun Country music the kind with twang and the kind that makes all this almost seem real or something like that and not just a painting of six literature students walking to class through a grass amll on a campus somewhere in the lush-lush South sometime in the Springtime which you say i've never really seen.
No, no, no! I am only the channel by which the ghost of Goulet is speaking. (I'm playing with the ouija board all by myself again :eek: ) I think he should be reincarnated as username: professional slimeball.
sorta blurry, but it kept going in fuzzy metallic guitar licks soothing the backs of invisible giraffes and jellyfish expand to fit jade waves or read Hermann Hesse while
on the hot drowsy copperbottomedpots, swinging from the kitchen ceiling and im almost awake but still confused and dreaming and probably
swimming (again) with the endorphiny brain chemicals too and coffee compressed to the strength of sweet tar and mostly
i love the colors getting all melting again when purrs in the twilight excellence of soft visions and fingertips covered with lemonjuice and eyelashes are like morphidae butterflies and so much for pies to be happy, too
the sun coming down hard between the palm trees.
yeh but it was SEA SALT and the little sparkling flecks it made on skin and mica chips in the wet sand and decided it should always be tuesday, because that was yesterday and we can remember it like making it up Only Better. and my butterflies see pretties and get sorta feathery by the fountain, and Art, and then there were the wet colorsAgain ultraviolet in secretplaces and DEEP