19.11.11

the only things/ I really need /is water, /a gun,/ and rabbits.

"blanket
me, sweet nurse,
and
keep
me from
burning."

"let me rest
my favorite cheek
upon
your warm
sweet bellies."

the sadness and beauty i get from this song is almost grotesque.  I think our species is dying out (or McFuckin' itself out of existence) and this is the evolutionary ghost that eventually all humans will carry. being big fan of Kant though (and Radiohead)...I might be wrong.  :)

29.8.11

Meeting a subjectively sematic verified, post-humous Brautigan (r).

I feel I overdid the disclaimers in the title, so i''ll skip reservations of formality.  SO STUFFY.  my computer will not accept lower case letters on this keyboard; i must scream this blog against other socio-cultural-technological reservations regarding conventions of blog crap and the screaming of all caps, ooooh the screaming.  google voice says i had a nice weekend; oooooh.  


I will now cue 2:40 and on of "exit music (for a film); radiohead-ok computer." heh..

Last night i am subjective jodi reality positive i met richard brautigan in a dream.  this is no kind of sexual "praise the lord that maaaan came to me in a dream" kind of thing,  just saying.  it was no kafka.  but i am sure i met hi,m because it was a strange man with long hair (and i commune in no way aesthetically with the hippie aesthetic)) in my dream who i didnt recognize and felt uneasy around until he proceeded to write an ianthe brautigan (his daughter) quote on a misplaced concrete wall alongside weeded over grassy knoll he stood in like dirty asparagus man, scrawling like a first grader his daughter's own words.

;ater in my dream i wanted to surf the pacific, so i did, despite fear of great whites and having no priot experience.  not wanting to let on the latter prementioned, i wandered on a beach and didnt know how to read the surf.