Tuesday, February 22, 2011

Partial script.

Lucas walks into his friends bedroom, the door has to be forced open due to all the cans laying on the floor. He Finally wedges the door open enough to get himself inside, to see his friend chugging a can of mountain dew and throwing it on the floor.

Lucas, "Hey, whatcha... doin'?"
"Pounding it!" While cracking open another can, this time coca-cola.
"ya, I can see..." chugging noises ensue "That's disgusting. Anyhow, what the hell are you doing?"
"I'm on a soda binge." goes back to Lucas starring at his friend. Camera goes back and forth between the two. his friend slowly opens another can of soda next to him.
"You are a horrible human-being. Why are you opening two?"
"Why!? and this one's prepped for a double chugger." he starts to drink the one in his hand.
"things like that, every statement you've made thus far is detrimental to the entirety of my being. Hence you are a horrible person."
"I'm not following you..." throws the one to the ground and picks up the other can.
"ya, please don't." Faint sounds of chugging come from the room. The door can't close from the cans stuck between, Lucas tries slamming it but the handle comes off.
Lucas exits the room and goes across the hall.

Lucas enters the other room, throws the broken handle in the trash, where a girl is reciting the Om and meditating.
"Hey Em, what's happening?" he sits down in a bean bag chair and lays back. The room's silent... for a while. The shot just sits in the corner with both people sitting across from each other. He looks at her for a while then lays down straight backwards. She finally puts her hands down, breathes in deep and breathes out, her eyes open. "Oh, hey man. I didn't know you came in."
Lucas sits up, "Damn, really? I had no idea that was so deep."
"Ya, I kind of loose track of time and what's going on around me. That's the point though, so I'm doing well. Did you talk to Core?"
"Ya, we was 'pounding it' and 'soda binging' as he put it."
"What a house hold."
"You're telling me. So, what's happening? Typically you've had a rough day when you're in such a deep meditation."
"ha. Ya, know that guy I was hanging out with?"
"You know, the one you made fun of."
"OH! The fling thing guy."
"Har-har. We had a chat today about everything, it didn't go so well."
"ya? Run me through it."
"Why do you ask such things?"
"I don't know, I'm genuinely curious... just shoot."
"Alright, let's make some tea and go over it." They get up and move to the kitchen. Shots kind of follow them there. She grabs a bunch of stuff and starts brewing some tea up. Lucas sits down on the counter-top. Core walks through the kitchen real fast while putting on a jacket.
"I'm all out of my vices, need to run to the store, be back later. Bai." He's out the door already.
"Can we change the locks?"
"Why not?"
"We need the rent money and he's an alright guy. You're both annoying anyways."
"I am not that annoying."
"No you can be more."
"Lies! Give me one time."
"Okay, I'll give you three times..."
"Don't interrupt me. Number 1, it was 6 in the morning and you just made out with some girl. So you decided instead, to stay with her in your room that you'd come over to mind and tell me about it... through a loud speaker. Because you thought it was funny since that girl was my friend and I said you had no chance. I ended up winning because you ruined it for yourself. Number 2, all those pranks you pull on Core. I have to hear about him bitch. So when you locked up the cereal cabinet... or made him put orange juice in his cereal... or bolted down all of his stuff... rented his room out to a heavy metal band... and the time you sent him to the one place he never wanted to go. Ya, all me that has to deal with it."
Lucas laughing hysterically, "You laughed at all that!"
"Not all of it, not the loud speaker thing and that I can't have Ginna over anymore. Also, those jokes were funny the FIRST time. The jokes continue, I've had to hear about the same things for 8 months. Number 3, your coffee, booze and cheesy bean and rice burrito binge? Just last week, that was awful."
"Ok, it's not the same and Ginna can come over."
"It's not an issue of can or cannot. It's an issue of you."
"Alright, alright... you deal with more than I do. Now let's talk about this guy."

"As I sat on the park bench in my Chuck Taylors and Buddy Holly glasses, cup of coffee in one hand, cigarette hanging from my mouth and a battered copy of "On the Road" on my knees, I felt I was trying way too hard.", unknown. I found this on the internet today through stumble. I laughed very hard.

Saturday, February 19, 2011

Love is all, from what I've heard, but my heart's learned to kill, Tallest Man

I wonder how much I really notice going on. Most likely a fraction of a fraction, since most of the world is infinitely laced and multi-paralleled.

She turns around, not angry but comfortable and retorts with a story, "There are these two young fish swimming along and they happen to meet an older fish swimming the other way, who nods at them and says 'morning, boys. How's the water?' and the two young fish swim on for a bit, and then eventually one of them looks over at the other and goes 'what the hell is water?'" (I later found this was from a commencement speech by David Foster Wallace.)

She continues before I can interrupt, in which I do often. So I understand her forcefulness, "A man gave this speech for college grads and kind of emphasized what it is we should focus on. You are no old fish to tell the world that water or air exists, neither am I, but what it is, is we are the young fish who do not even realize we are in water. Not getting that the water is stabilizing or that is where you've been the whole time. Which inevitably leads you to forget that outside the water is another reality because you miss THIS reality right now. This you and me and everyone we know reality. You can pick every friend or relative and how things happen in life, but happenings still happen. You can't fix everything or intellectually decide all details. Sherlock Holmes you aren't. So deal with the fact your reality right now is, your friends are who they are. So stop distracting yourself from today and where we are. Get out of your own head once and a while." She pauses for a second, and swallows trying not to cry. She picks back up again. She's right though, if it was a lie I would be outraged and stop this ''massacre.'' She speaks the Gospel, all true. It stings, but hell... she's so right, she can't be more correct.

"I dig you, I really do. You quote Dylan with his happenings but you don't go with it as you talk about. You dig experience and you discuss tradition but you stray away from both, tearing either apart because... I get it, I know you're smart. No one is questioning this. Let those combine, experience traditions and happenings. Even do so reasonably, but don't reason yourself out of them entirely. I know I'm not the best at this, but we can better ourselves at it daily, are not even the birds in the sky taken care of? Why worry about tomorrow?" I lift my head and smirk... all I can do is meander closer to her to put my hand on the back of Diana's head to pull her close to my lips. So I may kiss her gently on her forehead. All I wish to do is hug her, just stand there and hug. For I have no more words. In that moment all I wish to say is to signify I get it. I struggle to find the words, the right words in the moment. I decide to just flow, because I'm over thinking... I uttered simply, ''This is right, this moment feels proper." As tear drops roll down our cheeks we smile while in this compassionate embrace. Tomorrow is tomorrow and an hour is an hour, but right now is perfect.

Friday, February 18, 2011

A memory: Perry Farm (I call it prairie)

Disclosure:This is horribly written and needs editing. Please, I beg of you. Do not hold it against me. The word land is used far too many times. I wrote this in hurry, now please try and enjoy. My apologies.

One time when I was young, my dad and I went for a bike ride through perry farm. A state park like piece of land, in which is set aside to never have any parking lots or mcdonalds built on the land. Set aside so we feel good for future generations to have trees, water, soil and hiking lands to enjoy. Instead of cement wastelands and parking garages. This day was a tad cold, but I didn't notice. When you're a kid cold doesn't really bother you as much as when you are older.

Perhaps it's just the sheer excitement of something new and everything is fun as a kid. Now there is more sadness or as if the world owes us something, so at least the weather should be the way we want it. We loose contact with nature, "We often forget that WE ARE NATURE. Nature is not something separate from us. So when we say that we have lost our connection to nature. We’ve lost our connection to ourselves." I read that the other day.
I was thinking of this story because I decided since it's nice and I've been inside a lot, I should go outside for the fresh air. So I decided to grab the old camera and see if I had any skills left in me to take some photos. Mostly to see if I still had an eye for good shots for cinematography. I think I did pretty good, so I'm gonna give some visuals of the place it was I went as a kid for such a story. I digress, I've been rambling. Only because the story is quite short.

My father and I used to ride bikes a lot when I was a kid and many a times something happened. This one time, we were riding and his breaks seemed to just stop working. So behind me, I'm about 5 at the time, he just rams right into the back of me. I go flying, scraped knees and all, him still on his bike and my in tatters. If I remember right, I know I walked home. I was in pain and crying. Another time we went riding, I got to this huge hill and well. I couldn't stop, I was to scared since I was going too fast. So I just went off the trail into some shrubbery.I wasn't crying and walking home that day, I just laughed nervously... that became more of a trait. It's not really flight or fight with me, it's more make jokes or laugh while making jokes. If there is a dire need, I'll figure something out.

This time we went for a ride, we went to perry farm, side-note; that is where I went down a hill way to fast. In which, that hill doesn't look as daunting as it used to be. It's a joke now, unless on roller-blades. Not because it's steep, just because there are crevasses in the ground for roller-blades. In which, that's another story of my friend and I... I get off topic far to easily.

So we were riding around the park, getting off of our bikes to take side trails and look around. My father making jokes and talking to me about the area and how nice it is outside. Me just excited to be outside with my pops was enough. I think we road from a park not to far away, a lot of the state park type places kind of meet up together in our area. So we did a lot, a lot to a kid, biking that day. So I was all tuckered out by the time we go to park finally.

We went back to where they have these indian caves. Which is still one of my favorite places to go, in the back there is this place where in the summer. It is always cool and nice, a place to think and catch the slight breeze coming from the stream below. Then the water fall that isn't to far in front of you.
It's far enough back that no one can see you, but in the right position to where you can watch other people crossing this bridge. I caught a lesbian couple making out there one time. I wasn't sure what to do. So I gasp and kept moving, give me a break I was like 15 years old. I didn't know what a proper reaction was. I don't think there is a proper reaction to catching anyone making out.

Once we got to the indian caves we decided to take a little walk around. Maybe traverse and climb a bit. A fantastic idea! My dad helped me a lot. At one point he was ahead of me and I was stuck... we were in between two rock faces in on the sides. In between the two sides was the stream.Partially frozen over, but not in every places. The water rushing underneath was enough to break up a lot of the ice. It was really hard to tell where to step was ok or not, the rule of thumb was don't try to step on the ice.

but... I was stuck and I wanted to prove that I could do this on my own. I think I was about 7 years old. So I decided, I'll risk it... I got this, I know what I'm doing. I road my bike all that way! I got this and... no I didn't. I fell straight through and the water went over my head. Next thing I knew my dad had me under the armpits and pulled me out. I was soaking wet and freezing cold. He couldn't carry me out of where we were. So we had to climb out as soon as we could, it was unbearable. I was shivering and scared. My dad was just looking back at me constantly. I bet sort of annoyed by the fact that I didn't just wait and ask him for help. Which, I don't think now that he thought that. But he didn't get it, it was my chance to do it on my own and I failed, miserably.

I ended up slipping a few times, my little muscles couldn't really pull me well enough. I was just so damned cold. We finally got out and he carried me to our bikes. In which, we road out.. the whole time I didn't think I could make it and my dad would look over saying, ''don't worry buddy, you can make it. not too much further.'' Saying here and there, ''you know you shouldn't of tried that, you could of waited.'' just being a good dad to help me out. Help me remember for next time, oh... I will remember that. I still triple check ice before I cross over it. Even puddles.

I was just complaining the whole time, crying but no tears really came. I was to cold and good thing I didn't cry, the tears would of added to how freezing cold my face was. My teenage mutant ninja turtle jacket soaking wet, what was I to do? I love(d) that jacket. We road the whole way until the close parking lot, in which my grandpa was there to get us. I guess my dad used the payphone, we went and I was all warmed up with coa-coa and I stayed at my grandparents. That bike ride back was just brutal... not sure the point of it. Just a story.

ugh... never adding photos like this again! Just too much work and I don't like it. If it wasn't for that fact I worked hard to put these on here, relatively awful like... I would just get rid of it. But, they shall stay! hand in hand with the fact I hate it. I'm re-writing this one day and there will be no pictures with it! Maybe like 4 pictures... NO MORE!

Thursday, February 17, 2011

Life is pretty crazy...

Bad start, we all know it's crazy, misunderstood and reality never lines up with our own sense of things. I haven't said anything new, is there anything new to be said? anyhow...

I digress, All changes in life even the ground under my feet having minerals added such as plastic. odd I know, but look it up. Then there is the addition of nuclear waste and radiation for generations to come, years from now people will pull up hunks of plastic because of us. Hunks of radioactive plastic... stuff. umm... maybe not. Again, I digress... I promise.

People always change, maybe it's true, the concept of fireworks as an analogy. Hard and fast exploding joy like yellow bursts, spider-like and then it fades away. It maybe quick, short lived even and later written about (such a life.) "Too weird to live, and too rare to die.", Hunter S. Thompson. IT's never as great as living it, even if the times do suck.

Our memories even fail the best of analytical/detail oriented selves. Nostalgia is impossible to detour, sad endings stick with us. Humans like despair, sometimes and most likely I feel.. more than joy even.

Sometimes I wonder if I'm just Kafka's Gregor, but that's perhaps too good for me. The NegaKris ahaha I just want to get french toast with bananas with that guy. Just take me for my good and bad. Despair and joy. evil heinous me and the saintly goody-goody. ahaha

Special and unique VS Ordinary and normal
Ego VS self-conscious
Kris vs NegaKris
What we do VS Who we are
Honest VS Truth
Means VS Ends
me ranting VS me shutting the hell up

This thing I made today... VS this same thing I made, this is my idea of a good transition point. Genius, I know.

So I saw Scott Pilgrim vs the world... it's a tad obvious based on a few references.


p.s. Enjoy this, me!
Okay me, thanks!
No problem, stop talking to yourself... we discussed this.
Oh, ya... my bad. Sorry.
It's ok, don't need to apologize. tea-tee-why-el

Disclosure: if you read this feeling, you learned nothing and gained nothing. Don't feel bad, it's all just static.

Wednesday, February 16, 2011


I realize now, my reality will never line up with the actual worlds reality. Since everyone has their own idea, they just kind of collide. Even more so when such things as, what one sees going on is never said. It just lingers until something dramatic occurs. That our laughing at nothing, the void in which we create our own reality is never objective to just myself. It's subjective to others and they have a say whether we like it or not. Even if that persons say is unheard, the point can get across just fine one way or another. I'm always the fish asking what the hell water is and trying to walk outside of water up the tree. Constantly feeling stupid for never walking, but in the mean time never swimming either. Never the rat in the floorboards or the intellectuals above said floorboards. Not really in the picture at all, locked away like Thoreau in Walden or Bon Iver creating his album. The difference being lacking the talent to create such things, so just a man moving out of the way for all to pass him by. Since rejection, shrouded skepticism, irony and cynicism has become such a chunk of what was once a child-like world. 'Tis not all bad I suppose, maybe I'm missing the bigger picture and just don't know it. I seem to do that oft. Hunter S. Thompson can finish whatever this diatribe is... with a toast.

"Let us toast to animal pleasures, to escapism, to rain on the roof and instant coffee, to unemployment insurance and library cards, to absinthe and good-hearted landlords, to music and warm bodies and contraceptives... and to the ‘good life,’ whatever it is and wherever it happens to be."

Monday, February 14, 2011

is it?

I tried to lick the honey which formerly consoled me, but the honey no longer gave me pleasure..., tolstoy.

This is, was, and shall be... my theology.

Going form peace to peace until I've destroyed it all.

Oh vices, pull further into and out of darkness. What a shame it's come to such. Good day. I said good day!

Rejection has sadly become my truth. Narcissism has been put in place of any wisdom I have had. And it's seen in my dwindling strength. That cursed honey, night and day, despairing dragon lair... I can't ignore it just as much as it won't ignore me.

simple moments are like decades or, when you're young it seems like an eternity and you wake up fifty. I've imposed blindness on myself, something like sleep... right? goodnight, until we're old and no longer young. waiting to die... blah blah blah... inception quote... blah blah blah, I talk a lot.

Quote 4(I'm not original): Youth is counted sweetest by those who are no longer young.

Maybe that, over stayed welcome, you discussed doesn't apply to you but me.

My introvert beard is growing in nicely, a walden type beard. I got that going.

Lates, bruv.

Wednesday, February 9, 2011

Shattered pieces of that summer sun tea jug, perhaps we are those pieces. Perhaps that is our peace or at least my peace.

From the deepest depths of hell to the tallest radiant flower.
Three blessed innocence lingers,
bodies with souls,
bodies with spirit,
bodies with wear and tear.
Abandonment beyond torment.
Desirable lusting,
milk and honey in my comb.

Throbbing sobs of SOB nature.
All is peaceful, All is war.
Merely perceivable, inevitably believable and
no one really gives a damn.

seas crashn' in,
blood swirln' drain,
busted in tattered glass mess.
Tides come in but,
"it is well in my soul."
Disenfranchised thine eye.

Bursting through seams,
selling nations denim jeans.
Destroy icons by making them icons,
deliberate fundamental image-less.
Turntables booming loud meaningless.
All amplified, All important.

Saturday, February 5, 2011

Passing writings through the day. Depressing/happy day. The tides of emotion

2 P.M. (Post on oneword.com for the day, Suicide.)
What a romantic, poetic end to whatever it is I live today. Even though it’s all I shouldn’t and never shall do, for I am a coward to it’s grasp. Poor and homeless, what else is there left? I’ve been rich, intellectual, at Fancier studies and even battled the best. Worked for my money. I even spent the biggest gaps of my time in the synagogue of many religions… I’m like Siddhartha starring in the river… what next? Om, perhaps…

5 P.M.
It's been exhausted, the last nerve, scraping the bottom barrel. Depressed, lost and hope given. What's left evaporated in wholes. Common these days. Expressions left, interpretation sucks, spirit fails, body unwilling, mind in shambles... shambles, shambles, shambles... sweet bumblebee didn't help me. Dormant time and time again. Rodent under floorboards, rodents gnawing away night and day, rodents common to the commoners. Typing rhythmic doom, beats in tune, notes in truth, revelations of conscious, negative hindsight. What's next is to drown in it's sounds; where inferno awaits.

2 A.M.
epitaph unnatural to the limp ED plan unholy red-line distinctly altering subconscious, dragging battling through war and gutter. spreading gospels of dysfunction, with well placed functional numerical layouts of communistic salvation. Chaplin-esque tramps ongoing solutions, nothing but cannon fodder... cannon fodder, cannon fodder, cannon fodder.

Thursday, February 3, 2011

in my time of dyin'.

A sugar so sweet
I can taste it in the suite
in the highest of heights
from the depths of a crevasse
but what I can't understand
is whats clasped in these hands

But what I can't begin to mistake
with the bottles booze and instinct
the troubles lost in disillusionment
and all the troubles lost in disillusionment

so who the fuck will ever care?
I'll toss out all philosophy
take part in the irony
of pulling nothing from eternity

the sugary suites
we tasted divided
from the highest of heights
was never for the journey
was never for the journey's sake

but what I'm beginning to mistake
with all the bottles and syringes
all the troubles partaken in
with the struggles partaken in

so who the fuck will ever care?
I've tossed out all theology
taken part in causality
of forgetting my reality

the taste so neat
the damned brisk sweet
deaf to my tongue, deaf to my tone
not yet deaf to sight, not yet deaf to sight.


Do tell my love, before the dawn of time passes. We insolent men, deaf to passes. Time ends all to soon. Departure comes shattering on in, the glass castle rests simply upon dirty foundations of tormented souls. Indeed the times shall be changn', but don't be bankn' on it. Sober up all in due time, the glimmer and shimmer we see is polished by moonlight. Our city changes by the second anyhow. We made it up by passing train, flowing blood pumping lusts of our souls. Diminished relics of old, simply laid to waste.

My post from oneword.com today.

It was a despicable wrench of the situation. All in which we never knew and it was indeed all that I loathed and hated within myself. the simple effort to fix the things, to change things, to need to know more and more to the effort of humanity. To weep at my own grave before I was ever dead. I weep for everything and nothing all at the same time.

Tuesday, February 1, 2011

Tears stream like rivers.

Quick and fast you past
shattered away like the summer sun tea jug I broke in youth.
scrambling and playing,
my unknowingly past-life
What a future! my bastard bloodline...
it laughs in slight victory, but the simple crack is enough
bound together, forging on.

if it wasn't for you, where the hell would this be?

In a fucking coffin! laid to waste! Chewed meat to the dogs!
my mind basic chew toys... unity. one. unheard of.

if it truly wasn't for you. Mistakes-destruction-happenings
divorce. all of what I once thought wrong... was all right.

and I don't write until I'm in the right mind.

social standards claim impossibilites, eternity instills so much more.
I weep for you, my typing weeps for you, I weep for me and all those who cannot weep. I even weep for joy!

I never noticed but a casket
in which a hope laid
in that my hope rebirths
the disillusioned generation pulling up coffins
pulling nails in time. weeping joyful tears on the docks!
Painful fears and lost memories.

oh grandma, I hope to call you now. For it's too late, so Kathy is how it'll be. Do not apologize for troubles, do not apologize for wrong, there was hurt but joy has come from despair. A burden buried. a family born and would never live if not for you.

How blessed your actions blessed me.
never apologize for there is nothing to be sorry for.
forging nothing into something,
forging nothing,
into something....