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96 – truth
I am a lazy piece of shit. I do nothing. I eat a sleeve of saltines. I watch another old movie- this time Katharine Hepburn is after Cary Grant, not the other way around- very clever. I let all my plants die of thirst.
I wanna wake up without feeling smothered one of these days. On that day I will remove the peanut butter knife from the can of chicken noodle soup- and maybe even wash my bed sheets. Until then, tell me another story Cary- this time you lead. I’ll sip my tea and wait.
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93 – fantasy
An earthly box, dreaming of perfect cubes. An earthly box, in a parking lot, in Edina. Imagine that. Surrounded on all sides by drifts of ice and a bank with too many floors and puddles of coolant and runoff.
Now imagine a hundred earthly boxes, all in a mess, like rocks on the shore of the lake, all dreaming of perfect cubes. All encumbered with a thousand inches of sleet and a thousand bars with signature cocktails called “Cinnamon Toast Cucumber Twist” made with coolant and runoff, just like my tea.
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98 – advice
Listen to tapes on tape machines. It sounds bad, but it feels good. Like my favorite punk band Giant Peach’s first record “Tarantula”. Sounds like shit. Life changing record. Listen to “Tarantula”.
Paint on cardboard- or any other trash. It takes the pressure off. To make the real good shit you gotta stop worrying about if what you’re making is good.
I found a manifesto in a stairwell downtown. It’s mostly faded now from a year of tea stains and sneakers scraping the sharpie off the linoleum. Go read it if you can.
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96 – question
Why should I feel the need? Why should I prove myself to you? What am I trying to prove? Oh- my career, is my career gunna be alright?- fuck you (respectfully). You have to ask yourself what you value. Pot calling the kettle up at 1AM, I know.
I am a human animal who doesn’t like to feel pain. And you might be too. If you or a loved one is a human animal who doesn’t like to feel pain you may be eligible for financial compensation.
I forgive you. I love you. You are enough.
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116 – tea
This tea tastes like creek water. But I will not sweeten it. I may get high, or listen to the Smashing Pumpkins, or call in sick to work, or take Nyquil during the day, or all of those things at once. But I will not lie to myself about what it is. A dirty creekwater 4AM 12 dollar an hour life.
Maybe it’s too late to save the human experiment. It’s not too late to daydream. The searching is the meaning.
We are here on this rock for a brief moment, during which we have one attempt at explaining to our satisfaction what it is we were doing here in the first place. Some rock huh?