Stupa

Cirrus clouds rolling in, cooling the neighborhood (and the city, I imagine, but here's where I am) and bringing a cool, comforting breeze. Laundry and lazy today, before I head into the kitchen...the seat of my power.

I love my stoop, the sky and the skyline, angles on the neighbors roofs, the tower and the butte and the trees I'm too lazy to name. Soon, it'll all be grey and I'll have to come back to the winter I broke up with last year. But for now I'll enjoy the last of the blue.

Too much catharsis

I'm not getting any-I think my neighbor's hogging it all. Good for her.

Nothing on TV
Nothing to read
I think I'll slit my wrists
And watch them bleed

Note: this is not a cry for help. Blood's good as a metaphor, ends up all over here and in my daily life. But then I have cultivated a vocabulary steeped in creepy. Today, I had a conversation about elephant vampires. What else could elephant garlic possibly be good for?

So yeah, strong moods to be had in my head lately, and their vicissitudes (waiting all week for that word) have left me wondering again about my sanity...I draw a pretty clear distinction betwixt my feelings and my actions, and while the former leave me concerned, I been real proud of the latter lately. Positively ninjiferous (as opposed to ninjiferrous, which would be like an iron ninja. Dave and I just came to this conclusion. Let that be one big pane in your window on my world) and while my pride at that has not been occluded, it isn't seeming to help with the angst. Well, what are you gonna do but blog about it, I suppose.

Notes from the party-a woman, now catheterized, dancing with an adorable baby in the moonlight, music and joy in the background and a baby-eating grin on her face. Truer and purer happiness I've not seen in a long time, and that will be my touchstone for the night. Also, there were so many people on my bedspread that it still smells like ass...and dog. Gotta do something about that. Lots of antiques showed up, and they get points for that. Lots of guest stars too, recurring characters not seen for several seasons. It was sweeps at my house, I guess, and my promos seem to have brought me a larger audience. I got called on my pretensions to godhood by a stranger...there's a reason they call them that. Good for her though. And while the boy had a rough night, he came out all right in the end, and that by the grace of no less than six of my friends. Benevolent and kind are the people I know, and that in itself makes my heart sing. Here's to us all, and the axis about which we rotate. Not you, Josh.

I'll raise a dust storm like you won't believe

Chestnut McWhiskeyskirt
Poisonfinger Pickles
Noodles Pasta, the Hobo Ninja
Spookypants McFavors
Silverback Danny
Captain Lowjack
Living Language Aaron

Waiting for my moment of golden light.

This is a necessity, as nothing as perfect and vivid as what happened to me yesterday can go by the wayside (Nothing has really happened until it's been described-Virginia Woolf) but please forgive my brevity and my inadequacy. To all those of you who were guests in my home, thank you. Together we manufactured many a fine moment and bushel after bushel of raw, uncut happiness. It totally makes my top 5 nights of all time. To those of you who were in on it, helped out, or co-hosted...I hope you share my pride and joy at having so many bright and brilliant people in our corner of the Whit. And to those of you who could not make it...you have my sympathy.


The moon turned blood red, and I imagined it was all for my benefit.



More later.

Untitled

No, it's good. It is. Gives me something to bite down on. I can still twist my own knife.

My +2 dagger of time machine

Ia! Ia! Nyarlathotep! Ia! Yog-Sothoth! Ia! The Black Goat of the Woods! Shub-Niggurath!

In a week, the stars will have been right for only a day

You know, regardless...I don't care whether the revolution will be televised or not. People on my TV, saying it will or it won't-or there'll be a podcast. "The revolution will be via RSS feed. Fuck it, I just hope it happens soon. I watched a commercial for Saturn that was aimed squarely at my demographic (ideologically, I mean. Not economically). Asking people to question consumption...by buying the right product. I used to think that as we became more savvy and jaded as a society, we'd begin to eliminate marketing. Now, it just seems like marketing's going to eat itself, and we won't even notice.
Cooking, in the absence of other expressions of personal excellence, is what I'm doing. Making bread, experimental shoggoth bread. I'll let you know how it goes. Also, there were huckleberries and a trip.

Oh, and

Fucking Herman's back.

Flip

In dreamland, Ken, I am scion of the sun and nephew of the dawn. I can destroy the world, and wear a hat that says "wake up". Raccoons got nothing on me, nature's ninjas or no.