reality beyond the capacity of our brain

I caught a bunch of people on fire

By accident



drunken boat

I hope I'm being a nice person

writing into a story

Why is someone who works for the NSA in charge
of an information feed from every major
Internet provider and Telephone Company
At AT&T?

it could be that there are aspects of reality that are beyond the capacity of our brains- Jonathan Leake
'http://www.timesonline.co.uk/tol/news/science/space/article7107207.ece


huey dewey and louie, burglars


And the prostitute in the hallway gets her picture taken. -emma weber


deaf musician

couch drifting off to sea

what's the point in writing love letters when they'll never make a difference in this place


I think even if you separated them they'd still talk to each other - lis cross, talking to abe about his word cut ups poetry assortment

immediate-esque, sexy-slimey sounds - lis cross

having to be like god to be with god - lis


angels sticking their fingers in christ's wounds on the cross

don't call yourself stupid or you'll die don't you get that now?

This Bud's for YOU

Bock's House is like

My Dad's House

I grew up in a garage

Filled with drunk shouting men

These men raised me

I've missed them ever since I left when I was 13

I've never had them since

I would beat all their asses at poker

Because I was the only sober one

I won 17 dollars from them one night

Coming from poor, drunk, mountain dwelling

Single toothless bastards,

17 dollars is a lot of money.

I discovered a house in Chicago

Inhabited by men from my college

Who are not typical slimy art school males

They are men. Not unlike mountain men.

They have spines, and they are not afraid

To fight each other

Wholesome, alcoholic, porn swapping men

I walked into a house

Not Bock's house, another's

Completely a nervous wreck

Disoriented, having previously been lost

Just another bad day. Happens to us all

The two fellows who greeted me at the door

Were clad in this:

The taller one

An American flag bandana

No shirt

Large military pants

One large knife in holster

And a perfectly childish lovable half-gap toothed smile

A little boy's smile, you know, the one kid you KNOW you want to talk lizards with

The shorter one

Thick coarse shoulder length brown hair

No shirt, beneath an

American flag themed leather jacket

With 3 large blue stars along the shoulders

Complete with 3 foot long

White fringe dangling all around him

And his goofy, unnaturally large smile

Sinister in the friendliest way

A daredevil in his own right

They both hugged me

I immediately felt resolved

Of all my previously harbored stress

We went inside

A large group of other young men

All sat around their kitchen table

Slapping cards down screaming profanities at one another,

Taking far to many shots with every loosing hand

A large mirror sat in the middle of the table, and a PARTICULARLY large pile of unidentified pills was there as well

Setting the unidentified drugs aside, I felt immediately at home.

One small giggling female,

8 large obnoxious men

Just like when I was a wee one.

Far more at home than I've felt in

Dunno

That having been said

I can disclose to you only,

The condition of the home

When we all awoke the next morning

Because that is all I can remember.

I was in a bed, back to back

With the taller half-gap toothed brother

Sleeping like rugrats

Wearing the shorter smiling man's striped t-shirt

With some blood on my arm

I don't know how I got into the t-shirt

Taller half-gap toothed brother, had a concussion

He discovered long after with medical attention

He apparently challenged a ceiling fan to the death.

Shorter smiling man, was bloody and bruised

Due to a two by four

Having broken off

And rapped around his elbow

The Kevlar vest they were proving invincible,

Did not protect his appendages, unfortunately.

The bathroom hallway, was flooded

I believe that was my doing

Though I have little recollection of this

And according to them

Taller half-gap toothed brother's large knife

Had been hidden away somewhere in his room

And the mirror of unidentified drugs

Had been hidden away and disappeared

Of which both disappearances were attributed to me.

I later, after having left my hung over demeanor

Texted the whereabouts of said missing items to the appropriate owners.

I remember, confiscating both items

When things got out of hand

I was impressed with my maternal abilities.

I have never felt so much physical pain

In my life

I have not returned to said home since

I do not really WANT to return to said home,

For fear of physical pain coupled with said house and inhabitants

But I see them all often

And I can say right now

That half my body is black and blue,

Due to a small friendly brawl I got in last night

I hate to say it,

But I really, really enjoy

Becoming my parents.

It just feels like

I'm surrounded with family all the time now.

What I like about these people,

Is that they'll do crazy shit

Reckless shit

But they always end up

Taking care of each other

We all gots each other’s backs

It’s literally a family. The whole outrageous lot of them.

There are mothers, brothers, dads and drunken uncles

I never want to be away from family ever ever ever again

I'm at home again

Homo-depot

I live with a set of twins. They’re male homosexual artists. I have heard people call them the 'fashion twins.' when people ask me where I live, I say 'I live with the twins,' and they reply with 'you live with the twins?' I did not realize they had such a godlike status until I started answering that question. It's interesting to watch the novelty of it go to their heads, like it must have their whole lives. They each wear black and gold, or alternating black and white mesh, always above black dress shoes or boots. They, and all of their friends, once became unmanageably angry when I mentioned in a joking manner that they were a kind of 'hipster.' they are hipsters, but that’s just it- that's who they are, they embody the subculture, begin it- not emulate it. Funny paradox, identical originals. I fear they sometimes forget they're originals, follow each other in safety, subdue their own individuality, become what they hate- trouble. One is nice and very maternal, the other is also nice, but more sarcastic and edgy. One has round softer features, the other harsh and angular. They are together always. They have begun to collaborate recently; they are generating three-dimensional digital copies of themselves, joined at the back, work on it constantly. Some sort of performance piece most likely. They fight. I have never seen siblings together, because I don't have any. They antagonize each other, and feed off each other’s hostility in the most toxic way. It pains me to be in the room or hear them in the bitter state of petty argument, just like watching my parents before they were divorced: pure terrible. I will not miss it.
The maternal one just delicately burped in the other's direction, and smiled. The edgier one hit him. They enjoy it. Enjoy hurting each other. I don't understand it.
They’re black clad posse is cultish and disgusting. I wish the twins weren't as associated with them; they seem like such empty cruel insecure people. I don't see why they need that kind of weakness in their lives, they are worth so much more. All the parties they throw, when they have friends over- I feel dirty with them. And when the group is all together, they change; individually, they seem to be potentially nice, kind, good and interesting people- but together, they become rude, exclusive, boring unkind cruel people- they give each other the power to be bad. Its a fear and power game to them. I hate them.
The edgier one just dedicated a song to the maternal one. He said, 'this song is dedicated to you. It's called, I don't like you anymore.' this is constant. More than often it is funny and uplifting, but when it becomes malicious and cruel- is it worth it anymore at that point?
They cut each other’s hair every three weeks. I watch them. They die each other’s hair more frequently. Every night before they go out to a party, a gallery, some fellow black clad posse member's humble abode, I watch them frantically dress, relying completely on the other and often myself for advice. I love it when one comes to me asking if something looks right, I like knowing I can advise such sophisticated fashionistas. Their wardrobes correlate and differentiate in the most peculiar and interesting ways, that I find myself wanting to diagram each detail, photograph what they wear each day for a month. Add it all up into one final peach of a truth.
I am secretly, brimming with anticipation to discover the truths concerning their mental demeanors, weaknesses, ways in which they rely on each other- the health of the relationship. I not only care about them, but also slowly have become fascinated by their unusual co-existence. I moved in with them having never really spoken to them. Just as I am leaving I realize I am deeply interested in them as people.
We are all moving into separate apartments tomorrow. The twins of course are living together.

rearranging deck chairs on the titanic, it will (f)elate your soul

I hafta control myself

trying to write this comic, ready to get my ass burned when it pisses people off with some sort of inauthenticity pertaining to masculine behavior hookers or trucking

soothing my soul with calmnation tears

watching my roommates, the 'fashion' twins as people call them, gay identical male artists who continually antagonize each other and collaborate often, figure out what to wear frantically together everyday is so amazing.

helltown helptown faceplantincloudtown failtown clown cars and fat chicks match up well. 

life is literally a giant fucking video game with googles of layers of levels blurring over each other

just reinforce me please

kelly nicole monson is rearranging deck chairs on the titanic
that was brilliant kelly

we control people on our terms
we help people on their terms

in response to the poem at the beginning of soap, a book by francis ponge
-put a bar in the microwave
ontop of a paper towel, it will
(f)elate your soul

my shovel is bigger than yours

toucan town

chef's radio:
'if you can piss 6 feet up in the air without getting wet, NO DOWN PAYMENT!'

eating faceless




I am my parent's children

my parents are my father's friends

my father's friends are badasses

my father's friends ain't no dumb shit men.




I can see now, more clearly than ever, how things are controlling me. the ways in which I unknowingly control others.
I see it when I unintentionally control others, subconsciously i guess, but I am so perplexed or embarrassed by the potential situation, fearful, that I do nothing. i wish i was able to think on my feet and correct the situation, for the love of the people around me and their freedom.
I'm gunna start 'trying' to do this without skinning my face off on the pavement.
when i am being controlled, i seem to just let it happen, as if i wanted it- i have attempted many times today to resist, and do something else, what i should be doing - it is very, very difficult. I've just seen all these things today.
I'm going to test the shit out of that to, and break it in fucking half. i hope. i mean i think i am. i mean (the cartoon beetlejuice would think this out loud, and lydia would pump him back up and give him confidence again by believing in him)
My mind is warped by the people who raised me, and their disabilities- more their chemical and alcoholic dependencies. =codependency. =crazy fucking confused problematic bitch.
I'm working on it.



i don't even have a shovel. you win.

your brain makes me squeal with girlish delight

using the power of truth in art to improve the quality of life for family members
feartime

exhausting known avenues

creating new avenues

I want to sit beside the Queen, sit beside the Emperor
its an ability to serve thing
people. shaking my head

right hand man-woman

availalable

he's catching your fish-filled lagoons aflame! dowsing your bonfires with every raping crescendo! eating your souls with such disrespectful leisure, like baleen plates purloin plankton! GO KIDS, GOGOGO!

8bit legit

alyssa's motto: use and abuse

god slows time down for me when I am in need

vicious bowling cigarette raping white trash burnout makupcaked bitch.

red hot oink

frosty the fuck face

humans are stupid things. rocks, now that is intelligence.