A proper description captures a part of whole with arranged letters as opposed to a summation, which may grow larger than the collection of individual parts. The apparent creation of "matter" if you will arises from creative perception. The sudden growth of meaning or subtext implied by consideration.
Of all I don't know, let the truth stray the most from my grasp. I can find the properties of a carrot in a tomato. All within the third person narrative.
10.10.10
Cecil Paints Teal Picnics
Reality is a twine, not fundamental in its intrinsic nature, but a composition of implicit cacophony. As a tawdry prophet once proclaimed to my father of thirty years years, "That which is considered predetermined is determined beforehand." The poor quality of such deceptive information relies not only the nature of transfer, but the inferences regarding spatial arrangement.
Words thrown together like an abstract painting represent a language without proper interpretation. The bases of communication relies on careful approximations and disregards the subtleties carefully placed like subconscious cues.
Cecil enjoyed playing with his family and as he grew older and more distant, permitted himself to enjoy the external nature of other families. If not outgoing in their feelings toward Cecil, Cecil was at least an observer of a life that had once contained him. Afraid to stare, Cecil often picked some tantalizing and intellectual literature from which he could glance at parents reading to their children, pushing little boys and girls on swings at just the right moment as if to balance the force that only death trumped. The force that pushes people onward and upward beneath consciousness under the guise of success and progress.
Cecil had recently discovered books on tape and appreciated that anyone would take time out of his or her day to read to him. Money had no bearings in the world of nostalgia. Cecil drew a potted plant and had placed the illustration aside his bed. Every morning the clatter of the blinds would relentlessly focus sound onto his sensitive ear drums reminding him of the painful delay between one dream and the next.
I write as if there is anything to say. Let the record show scratches and dips in the warping reality of information capture. Let the next listener believe the original contained only these imperfections, and not those that live among the content.
Words thrown together like an abstract painting represent a language without proper interpretation. The bases of communication relies on careful approximations and disregards the subtleties carefully placed like subconscious cues.
Cecil enjoyed playing with his family and as he grew older and more distant, permitted himself to enjoy the external nature of other families. If not outgoing in their feelings toward Cecil, Cecil was at least an observer of a life that had once contained him. Afraid to stare, Cecil often picked some tantalizing and intellectual literature from which he could glance at parents reading to their children, pushing little boys and girls on swings at just the right moment as if to balance the force that only death trumped. The force that pushes people onward and upward beneath consciousness under the guise of success and progress.
Cecil had recently discovered books on tape and appreciated that anyone would take time out of his or her day to read to him. Money had no bearings in the world of nostalgia. Cecil drew a potted plant and had placed the illustration aside his bed. Every morning the clatter of the blinds would relentlessly focus sound onto his sensitive ear drums reminding him of the painful delay between one dream and the next.
I write as if there is anything to say. Let the record show scratches and dips in the warping reality of information capture. Let the next listener believe the original contained only these imperfections, and not those that live among the content.
2.5.10
Still Life in Motion
"Warning, spoiler alert!"
-John Timmins (Any time he described "how his day was.")
http://www.mklprc.com/Mormon_masturbation.html
There are words we should never use. Are we simply a cycle of sleep in some being and death another [cycle] or the awakening of an alien that yields to a consciousness beyond the strange creatures?
"I, for one, am glad the answer is an unequivocal 'yes'."
-Ethan Rhine in his book entitled What is the Answer?
Who knew that the fact that stupid ideas are interesting implies that interesting ideas are stupid?
All I know is that I can't infer without implications, which is quite interesting.
What is misfortune but an out of body experience where we connect with ourselves?
Let's cling to what we don't have and what we documented to remember who we didn't confess to, who we didn't admit to. We'll cling to what we think we have in lieu of what we were letting go of. There was no other time I was afraid to die.
-John Timmins (Any time he described "how his day was.")
http://www.mklprc.com/Mormon_masturbation.html
There are words we should never use. Are we simply a cycle of sleep in some being and death another [cycle] or the awakening of an alien that yields to a consciousness beyond the strange creatures?
"I, for one, am glad the answer is an unequivocal 'yes'."
-Ethan Rhine in his book entitled What is the Answer?
Who knew that the fact that stupid ideas are interesting implies that interesting ideas are stupid?
All I know is that I can't infer without implications, which is quite interesting.
What is misfortune but an out of body experience where we connect with ourselves?
Let's cling to what we don't have and what we documented to remember who we didn't confess to, who we didn't admit to. We'll cling to what we think we have in lieu of what we were letting go of. There was no other time I was afraid to die.
Niripsa
An older sugar darling morning to you. I'm just trying to be naughty.
"So it's been a few years and so what if sexual maturity occurred in those years. What was had in any interval was had regardless."
Fillmore Stroud on the set of "Being Sixteen"
I sat on the counter in my robe and heard the clock ticking in the next room. The phone rang and I walked into the bedroom. I listened to this tone three times before answering. I brushed my teeth and called Yvonne back to discuss her affairs. The babysitter could not watch the kids tonight and Yvonne would drop them off before 7:30 pm. I stood up and walked through the kitchen and dining room before exiting the house and rifling through a box of letters and bills and postcards.
The car was rusty and loud and the leaves on the ground lie unaffected by the vehicles' passing. The passengers had said few words which equated with a complete thought or two.
The night was a black light. The events were white t-shirts, felt posters, and colourless dreams. To say the ending was dressed and ready to go out would be overshadowing the shared continuum between the lovers and the friends. The sky was a goodbye as backs were laid on and stars were rain drops of revelation shining on the dark. They never want to do this again.
Is there reason to capture in different light or possible with diminished mental capacity?
"Just feel a different way." Rob said.
"Okay." Bobby replied.
"Do you feel better?" Rob asked.
"Yeah I feel different, but I don't know what it's like."
"What do you mean?"
"Ya know, like going to the bathroom, something to do when my tummy feels funny."
"Let me try."
"Do you feel different?"
"I feel...like I..."
"So it's been a few years and so what if sexual maturity occurred in those years. What was had in any interval was had regardless."
Fillmore Stroud on the set of "Being Sixteen"
I sat on the counter in my robe and heard the clock ticking in the next room. The phone rang and I walked into the bedroom. I listened to this tone three times before answering. I brushed my teeth and called Yvonne back to discuss her affairs. The babysitter could not watch the kids tonight and Yvonne would drop them off before 7:30 pm. I stood up and walked through the kitchen and dining room before exiting the house and rifling through a box of letters and bills and postcards.
The car was rusty and loud and the leaves on the ground lie unaffected by the vehicles' passing. The passengers had said few words which equated with a complete thought or two.
The night was a black light. The events were white t-shirts, felt posters, and colourless dreams. To say the ending was dressed and ready to go out would be overshadowing the shared continuum between the lovers and the friends. The sky was a goodbye as backs were laid on and stars were rain drops of revelation shining on the dark. They never want to do this again.
Is there reason to capture in different light or possible with diminished mental capacity?
"Just feel a different way." Rob said.
"Okay." Bobby replied.
"Do you feel better?" Rob asked.
"Yeah I feel different, but I don't know what it's like."
"What do you mean?"
"Ya know, like going to the bathroom, something to do when my tummy feels funny."
"Let me try."
"Do you feel different?"
"I feel...like I..."
28.4.10
Quabben Datamax
T-minus the time I wake up and don't want to just but a tennis racket up my ass or a bullet in my breakfast cereal diluted gut. Spare me the gutter mouth rag of patronization, a piano out of key with wedded typefaces and implied anger if we felt the backhand of the true matter. Don't fill me with utterly hopeless hands to complete useless tasks.
As if these tasks are to be undertaken without the stress weight of those too heavily pulled down by their bags over their shoulder and their wheelchair infested swamplands. As if I could ever figure anything out and support myself in triumph and excitement. Incite the riot, swamp out the quiet.
As if these tasks are to be undertaken without the stress weight of those too heavily pulled down by their bags over their shoulder and their wheelchair infested swamplands. As if I could ever figure anything out and support myself in triumph and excitement. Incite the riot, swamp out the quiet.
Using a Previous Result
As it turns out, three women is indeed better than two. Even if they get bored they can entertain themselves. Wide-eyed and puppy dog fed like the desperate child owners we unfortunately will all end up enslaving with our own temptation. Craving with hunger is nothing to be afraid of and we must eradicate our listlessness, our fear of exploration. We can't stand and abide to current definitions we must enlist ourselves in new waves of periodically ineffectual boundaries of reevaluation.
Just shoot me in the head with your relentless logic and post what you employ to stave off temptation. Keep clean and supreme.
Just shoot me in the head with your relentless logic and post what you employ to stave off temptation. Keep clean and supreme.
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