New Days

New days are upon us. Welcome to the future!

Get Ready!

! ! Wild Connections ! !

I can't stop listening to Get Ready by The Temptations.

And I love the way these ladies in the video are dancing-- it's crazy!

Here's a mini-game scene from my favorite computer game (sequel) I still have never played:

Foxy was always my favorite, and here he is being spectacular.
My first job was at a Chuck E. Cheese as a party host; I guess it looked something like this.

Hurray for resonance, realization, imagination, and of course, magic!

Magic Kingdom Handbook - part 1

Midnight Manic Magic

/\\/\/\  /\\\/\\/\/\\/  //\\/\\///\

Dipping into that dream channel,

//

..Stellar Friendships

In-Betweens

(Pretty politicians 

publicly enjoying pastries)

"Where did you find this one?"

..

   ..

Dripping into that dream channel,

somewhere accidentally,

..

   ..

Can't rattle my head enough

--Do you really?

-I don't know.

--You don't know?

//

It's just my future self

climbing in thru the window.

/\\/\/\  /\\\/\\/\/\\/  //\\/\\///\

Poem - Ware Fare

Ware Fare

I would have needed to

divide into pieces to pass thru, with

risk that perhaps they would

never be reunited

on the other side;

Drifting off &

hoping I would not die,

I decided I was 

ready

to try it.

S.N.O. Flakes - Pages

Fly Conversation

This is what happens, the letters fall to mush as I try to write them. Have I been hindering myself? The impulse that drives me thru waves of bullshit on Twitter is, perhaps, -- no, FUCK perhaps!! THAT IS the unsatisfied nerve to WRITE. I can't even type words easily.

I am an enormous child, taller than my piles. Drafts of drama, days of waves. I stand over somebody, I know I must stand over somebody, because my privileges tell me so. They tell me so.

Writing about things in pieces so I can touch upon them without delving immediately into a plunge of woe. What the fuck kind of language is that?

To let myself be as loose and fluid in my shared writing as I am in my whore-ish videos. To bring language to the table-- a more direct, --- 

<<< COMMUNICATION >>>

I wrote a poem, "Marathon For A Dead Swan" on my blog, this blog here. It's a blueprint for narratives & for my music. It's the crappy candle I've crafted for illuminating one of the hidden hallways of my heart/head. And it's a pretty dark hallway, so feeling like I can give it a little bit of light is uplifting.