The Elastic Band

anything

“at the core of every human is a blank stare”

“time moves by so quietly. when it’s all over a second didnt even pass”

“industrialized emotion”

“you cant be skinnier than your skeleton”

“pan ket tank”

“i’m just a little kid failing to fall asleep the night before i die”

it's been

a stupid day. i bought belle and sebastians album fold your hands child you walk like a peasant. i think it is very good. some B&S fans don’t think so. but i do. i’m boring today. it’s been a bloody stupid day.

i just woke up

“not accepting is not living”

Below is another collection of words i wrote (before “something”) that soon i will try and turn into a poem of some sorts. These rough drafts are called the “grandpa notes”

In the Peeling evening

You have to be in a ready position at ALL times. In a loosefast mind with elastic pants (sore fitzroy)

My eyes want to tear something soft. Maybe dry oxygen that has sat under the bleeding sun all decay and has turned gold like the pill in my mouth

My mind is oozing out and i don’t know where its leaving, all sodded and bentlike

Raised up trees started peeling off enormous trophies of sature. The wooden family rose to the top of their clammered kitchen, clean and kleant, and claimed the crown of sap

It soothed those clotting tonsils! Those thin bubbling bloodsils , soaked in a blood towel. it couldn’t swallow fast enough

Grandpa comes to visit for a week (still complaining about his vehicle).He is lifting this family’s shining attitudes. The ones now that reflect through people and make the worst.

The worlds biggest mouth critic-her name is mortey-out for fun

They were experimenting, messin up my whole sugar. Smoking antibiotics,. The hot medicine pumping humidity, 24 pounds of saline shots. They hooked me up in a bed of fluid and I had to stare straight at fatigue through the bathroom door. In the bathroom a fine road bordered by real good bushes, grown with juices

The 150 pound old man notes- he wishes that small…

motoring tarpin

An easy to swallow healthy heart

That is unbelievable, the cow that was found in a field of fleas

My uncles bathtub filled with chopped down wood and word bricks

Consistency and routine…do it until the end

My father sits in his new car riding to cleveland in horrendous broken bodies of liquid. expired coupons on the floor.

I don’t like dirty stoves that are in a constant breath of emergency doses. The medication dressed in fluid has ten pounds in excess fetus material.

The babies are thrown in that noisy garbage disposal- nothing more fowel in my life!

A decent dinner is all I’ve ever need- A HOSPITAL DIET!

All different kinds of solid anniversaries save your impossible life, potentially.

Sentimental gloves catch anything that might shed from a newborn hand. Falling from an upslope may help…into the breeze…

Several days later it showed up in sweating articles of clothing, a diamond sparkling at the bottom of a washing machine

i hate darkness

especially late at night. 3:10 in the morning.

my mind is out of control. especially in a black room. something is communicating with me. but i dont know what. when i free myself from everything, i only feel alone.

it is morning

of these merging days. but it’s 1:26 PM.

so i really just use this blog as a folder for my writings. or else i would forget them!

An Ugky Dess Profess

His blisters are softer than heavy breathing from stinging jellyfish. They burst and drip down this mans skin into some sugary sea. He can’t recall the name of his body, but has been inside before. “Was it the time I friloently swimmed above rooms full of appetite and discussed with that beaded girl of my sleeping sensation?” This sleep being the pretending. The pose of an aging man with two aching hands, sleeping stomach down in a rocking boat, way out in the middle of this sea?

“No, it couldnt be.” Because the last time he checked the liquid beneath him was purely paint. The Sun, it is quite the peculiar predentinism. Riding the sky, keeping the lands fiery and dry. The man sings to the beautiful thing everyday and has never been burnt. A tomato child must be doing something wristfully wrong (Hair full of plastic, body bright red, eyes nasty and black, in ugly dresses split down the middle).

Beneath this hanging shadow the man stands on the bail of the boat and strums his instrument. Rising

the color of computer paper

contrasts with the color of grass, harshly.

new poem written the other night, havent named it yet:

My family’s ribcage is broken

My father’s heart is broken

My sister has a case of the spins

She is crushed under a car from her faceless sins

My mother sits on a chair, her face is red, she’s chokin

The alchol is soakin into her insides

blacked out and bare

Were out back smokin

psychos with unsolved mysteries

And we can’t sleep

In beds dirty and broken

The light shining in the rooms of this house

Makes us feel trapped,

Dead people in graves, dressed in the fur of sewn sheep

We’ve lost ourselves

we can’t feel our feet

Our eyes are closed

We’re all broken

a synthetic day, a tin-can type of feeling

i am real.

and i know everything is here. and nothing is controlling. were just all real. i need to talk myself out of any sort of swooping nonsense and ignore the crowds cheer. the idea is amazing, but i hate the way they kneel. Their fold is unbelievable and a dissolved door ideal. i thought everyone was talking to me, as one large sphere, but then i realized everyone clapping are only thinking about a diet meal. i’m me and i wont fall into a their fold, that early bird waste! My coffees gone and im pissing the unreal

late again

The greatest invention ever to benefit mankind is blankets and pillows.

i cant sleep anymore. and i dont eat often. but somehow i get to the end of “everyday.” Most of my free time is at times like this, 1 in the morning. i find myself writing at this time every night. staring at my ugly face under bright lights in my bathroom. my face just starts to look like something else. someone i dont know, who is never with me. im listening to radiohead like always. touching my eyebrows. interested in all the unknowns. everytime i think ive figured something out i realize nothing can be figured out…ever.

im tired and not normal

i have a case of the spins and im chokin on comfort and mosquitos. rain is falling on me and the skys ceiling is low. A bug bites my foot and i feel like i will never sleep. brett is walking around scratching his head, misunderstood. paul keeps everyone up and lets us all down. a racoon eats my whole life. i left it unzipped and alone in the woods. im afraid.