Collected notes
stuff from my notes apps and notepads and all other note-taking media
⾕
my heart was infinitely warm beneath the desert stars.
beings of radiance in the adumbral woods
did you really think this was going to last forever?
destruction of tendons and loss of sight in the moonlit sky
the genetically altered seed breaks the rhythm of an earthly music
weird dream: woke up buried in your curls, still half asleep
conscious stream: am i really awake? will you keep me?
there was this huge lake outside and everyone was swimming but something was wrong in the world and apparently your past self or your evil self was coming to kill you, 2024
sink your hands into sodden earth
An arrow comes screaming in through the window, and strikes you right in the throat.
I drift between homes, and wake as the rain pours. I dance. Fall asleep driving. Paint my name on hands and walls.
the only thing planned is the outburst itself.
No, Mademoiselle, no! I have not come back from the other end of the park but from the other end of the world! I have brought back with me the acrid smell of solitude, the tumult of sandstorms, the blazing moonlight of the tropics!
"Of course!" you would say. "Boys will run about, break their bones and think themselves great fellows."
Brooklyn’s too cold tonight
& all my friends are three years away.
To really appreciate architecture one must move to a godforsaken wasteland to dwell in a pile of garbage
precisely because it is real, that is, on account of its traumatic/excessive character, we are unable to integrate it into (what we experience as) our reality, and are therefore compelled to experience it as a nightmarish apparition.
in the heat, and stillness, and for the troubled hearts
crawling in through the fire window at the top of your basement, the keys on the bathroom counter. because they always are.
the intuitions of an artist more than the nose of a detective
[^2024^]
autumn frosts have slain july
SUBNORMALS BEHIND YOU ALL THE WAY
in that blurred state between awake and asleep when too many intake valves are open in the soul
A certain blue enters your soul.
A certain red has an effect on your blood-pressure.
like flower petals converging on the human heart.
catacombs of conveyance
"Turtles are my favorite animals. Everybody runs over them on the highways and that's why I want to kill everybody. That's one reason I want to kill everybody." - John Fahey
Are you a blood red hyacinth
Transported strangely
To these cold Sierra solitudes?
Every subway car is now new or completely overhauled. Don't you wish you could say that about yourself?
Mount Oliver, PA is wrapped in a warm hug and at risk of becoming part of a whole greater than itself.
Atop my treefort bed
melting the telegraph
My mother gave me my being
in the middle of a rain cloud
so that I would weep like rain.
Don't Be Afraid To Randomly Hit The B String
Throughout The Whole Song
Due to flawed calculations, the average color of the universe was originally thought to be turquoise.
Repainting his pickguard every time the world fails him and something tragic happens
Occurrence Detail 2332535812
shoving empty beer bottles into the gold mop cypress
ADbGDbEbAb :: Hazel
seeing the back halves of the trees. coming from the other side
death of the american sycamore
hello ryan. if you were a tree, you’d be this one.
White oak dwarves man, as do the broadleaves of Chile
his idea of doing something was pouring salsa verde in a bowl
He strolls up to the twister, and he says, have a drink. And he chucks the bottle into the twister, and it never hits the ground.
stale bread hits the theatre floor
dying is nothing to worry about. it's a warm feeling.
Everybody admires it as a wonderful curiosity, but nobody loves it as lilies, violets, roses, daisies are loved. Without fragrance, it stands beneath the pines and firs lonely and silent, as if unacquainted with any other plant in the world; never moving in the wildest storms; rigid as if lifeless, though covered with beautiful rosy flowers.
when the needle skips the love groove
consumption of all but the heart
now... drill through your hands.
In the dreams you came from (my body is also smoke)
Like lines drawn in the sand (formless and waiting for the tide)
For a cat who loves to chew, electrical cords are like Twizzlers. Twizzlers filled with dangerous electricity
not the sum total of you; not what goes in the history books. face vs. fist and the fist always wins, for you or against.
D-cells don't make good sense. If you want to hit a guy with a battery, use 9V's or AAA's. And if you just want to hit a guy with something heavy, throw a baseball. Break free from the shackles of tradition. Nobody will suspect you if you go into a baseball game with a baseball.
we should move. i think we're within range of something called the fury of a thousand suns
step 1: start couponing.
And you are the moving epitome of all this. Of you, by you, for you. God, is this all it is, the ricocheting down the corridor of laughter and tears? Of self-worship and self-loathing? Of glory and disgust?
...caught the bride in bed with the best man. he took the dog and the stereo. really great stereo.
fifteen billion camcorders in the basement capturing our every move
blowing (as per jazz musician)
~
breathing (as jazz musician drawing breath between outblown phrases)
看見什麼, 就會成為什麼
Waltz for Broken Lamps
there are diamonds in your heart and i am a prospector of souls!
open it up for me
tales from the target at the end of space and time
the world needs not what you bring to its overcrowded streets
where do you get drapes like these?
you wouldn't like the answer if i told you
death; rebirth
the walls eat noise
Don't take your organs to heaven...
heaven knows we need them here!
i need some anti-coagulants
catholic salvation at 7/11
stop divvying up your heart. the sun and the moon rise and set on different cycles
update: i think it worked
New York’s cracked me on its shoe and i’ve spilt to the burning sidewalk on a sunny day. i’m frying
that’s how it ends. stars collide and you burst into tears, dead on your prom night.
No more songs about you!
I'm sure he's got pictures of me sleeping. I don't mind it. Sometimes you just want to capture the World without it staring back at you quizzically, so oblivious to its beauty. I've caught the Earth sleeping, in my time.
Hit me 'till we vibrate at the same resonant frequency. I'll pass right through you.
information accident on the superhighway. roads closed here to your dreams.
i remember the burn of the rain. when the sun felt strong. shared benches. coffee tastes and song smells.
post-mortem depression
What a weapon of the absurd! That gaudy monstrosity.
alleyway of the avenues | it's the place i'd like to be
when we play Reading and Leeds you are not allowed in the pit.
In the US, while Mother's Day is the holiday with the highest number of phone calls, the day with the most collect calls is Father's Day
invoking fear. The yantra is only as powerful as the Arjun that applies it, and only confers its powers so long as the bearer observes Buddhist rules and taboos.
it is no more egregious than any other sin, it is only more visible.
STOP TOUCHING MY STUFF
make it back in one piece, and if you don't: send me a puzzle.
anointed one; a slave to Christ, as that Tamagotchi is to you.
'my universal message of love scared it off' -- on trying to blow up a bird's head up with her mind
and all the other non-negotiables
I have always wished for my computer to be as easy to use as my telephone; my wish has come true because I can no longer figure out how to use my telephone.
WHAT EVER HAPPENED?
"it's amazing that everything doesn't go to hell. when you stay in one place you think 'why is everything going to hell?'"
beat the Sun to waking up. avoid blinding by the great fusion reactor. ressurect the radiant heat. the burning of the Morning. the Sun and the birds. they aren't really there until you hear the singing.
all i do is sit down at the typewriter and start hitting the keys
tsa's gonna love you
take me off the back-burner, fry cook of the stars. bathe me in that orange glow.
"...if the Lord take me and I leave you...I say you'll have some covers."
You have known it for years, though you have fought against the knowledge.
When shall we come to th' top of that same hill?
You do climb up it now. Look how we labor.
It is especially important if one pilot is more experienced than the other, because the junior pilot may assume, consciously or not, that if something wrong, it is necessary to cede control.
cellular devices are scrying mirrors and tools used by demonic entities to influence thought patterns
DID YOU TAKE A GREY BIKE FROM THESE RAILINGS ON THE NIGHT OF THE 25TH?
YOU ARE GOING TO DIE!
I AM GOING TO KILL YOU.
hell's frozen over but the wind's still blowing
The Sun Amidst Small Stars
by whom Nature feared to be conquered while he lived, and when he was dying, feared herself to die.
pay attention to the eyes
i have a million ideas. they all point to certain death
a roommate you bring to family functions
stop leaving hidden messages on my walls! My blacklight's broken and you're scaring the bees!
damn near dragons
it was so nice dancing with you
this is a crime of opportunity
i'll take the shirt off of your back
and make it mine
and that's a crime
raconteur of the recherché
You know how I get my horticultural advice?
How?
I frequent bars.
There you did it! And you've done it! Now you Are!
In a rose garden, somewhere West of Philadelphia
If wishes were fishes, we'd all cast nets.
hero ain't nothin' but a sandwich
my governor could beat your governor up!
slam-dancing to the string quartet
you've got it all wrong. it never was the fear that did him in. it was the ladder falling.
Sixth & Fifty-Third
tear me down, build me back up, break a couple bones. I've still got work tomorrow. And the next day.
'You are very sparkly today'
This room's lost its beauty. There are no good memories left to be made here. Shutter your windows, lock your door. Get the fuck out.
put your eyes on me, people of New York. Watch as I lick the fifth avenue sidewalk.
I want to lead such an interesting life that I grow old enough to go home and watch T.V.
The icebox! I'm trapped in the icebox and you're Out There, with the stars, and the Sun, and the Moon!
You think you know so much. You've never made the floor shake, never seen the Strings.
In the winter of 1923, Siegfried Kracauer sent a letter to Leo Löwenthal concerning the young Theodor Adorno: "If Teddie ever decides to make a declaration of love so as to escape from the sinful state of bachelorhood', Kracauer quipped, he would be sure to phrase it so obscurely that the young lady concerned... will be unable to understand what he is saying unless she has read the complete works of Kierkegaard."
a highball glass full of water with old bay on the rim
a great rumbling beneath the earth
ex magician who still knows the tricks
his second autobiography was called "not much better"
slammin' the pit fantastic
this one's not for you
Jimmy Duval always dies at the end
like a long magazine with no pictures
like the menu at olive garden told a story
That’s not enough. You must feel everything, otherwise the world loses its sense.
it's like your own personal radio station
and on the sixth day, God created Knockout roses
hey, that's my knife!
les jeux sont faits. pour qui êtes-vous enraciné?
The Straight Edge King of New York
amphetamine sloth
k rolls hardest possible goal, asked to dream smaller
A'alim "عالم" means "who knows"
The understandable enemies:
1. The World
2. The Flesh
the weight behind my eyes
eight contiguous properties located in opportunity zone
i smell like coffee, and like You
there wasn’t a whole lot left there anyway. I think i’m losin it, mikey.
I'm completely booked up. I have to schedule breathing.
that first time where I was naive enough to think I could sit on my porch like Grandpa Jones and whittle while the rain fell all around me and not worry about miniscule things like fate, and heavenly retribution, and so forth.
Well, here are a few pictures I took recently and a couple I found in my hermetically-sealed titanium shoebox under the bed.
he was interested in homosexuals because they were sensitive & 'appreciatively eager'
he said, "God (for I was God to him for a moment) why did you create the world?"-- but then sighed back, to himself, "Oh-- aghoh"-- Accepting! "Because to Ask a personal god why he Created the Being is tantamount to telling him to go kill himself-- which is not polite, nice--"
We were exchanging truths, I realized, which is to say, we were cutting one another.
Ma. You once told me that memory is a choice. But if you were god, you’d know it’s a flood.
No one has ever been ready to die for his faith in the sun.
it comes apart // the way it does in bad films
polymath of failure
Union Square Station retreats beneath the glacial ice!
at least she tipped him 40$. at least the safety glass held up. maybe if it didn’t you’d be less relaxed about skin cancer.
red gardens
you've blue eyes darker than mine
one of the brighter minds out of the 21st century’s professional dickhead scene.
bring back misogyny. bring back indie rock. everyone wants so much but no one wants to go out there and take it for themselves
heaven & hell filled to the brim
why has no one ever seen me mosh. do i just disappear in the pit due to my below average height
my face is melting into the sheets on my bed
drifting the jackie
So, as just a guy who gave another guy a sandwich, you have, like, any philosophical tips or anything, for a guy on a-kind-of road trip?
stop it! stop sitting there and staring and just bleeding out all the words you'd wish you could say! hurt me!
documenting the death of the R46 subway car
all those other songs remind me of you. but this one's about how I don't ever want to have to be reminded again.
a tiny hammer with "hit shit" written in block capitals on the handle
i wanna sleep it off in someone else's bed
stumbling through rose gardens
as though you've jumped out of the story and you're seeing me, the writer, at the end realizing that this is it and that from now on the characters get to live on in everybody else's heads as well as my own.
leaning against my upright bed, looking sort of catatonic.
lifestyles of the bored and disenfranchised
THIS IS ABOUT SOMETHING THAT HAPPENED A LONG TIME AGO THAT CONTINUES TO AFFECT US TODAY
new york is giving up on you!
everything was so much brighter before
Years spin round on the foyer
As the maid sweeps dust
And leaves from the back door
My heart could be yours
Within dreams we're free
But you'd always ask for more
GET FOUND, KID! No one else is out there looking for you. They're just going on about their lives and you're out here, locked in a wine cellar like you give a fuck about the history of some grapes.
People just want to move their bodies. That's what this is all about. It doesn't matter how you do it.
Am I on fire? Fill the tank.
on top of me singing I Can Change
[^2023^]
sweaters and subtext
I found out what all those songs were singing about and it fucking sucks
keep pondering! please keep pondering!
i still remember when I didn't know where i was going
when I didn't know every street in my home town
it's like looking at a night sky. and you can spend kind of forever going around and looking at different corners and little pieces and little spots. it's like looking up into the night sky.
Grizzlies / December 5th (2022)
thumbtacks, drumsticks
that's like so much volleyball
People just want to move their bodies. That's what this is about.
It doesn't matter how you do it, just feel the music and... dance!
"pussy v pinkerton, there's a clear choice there"
Down to the beach again--into the water--out on the boats. And every party a [radio] party, with concerts and dance music coming in on the air.
Off to the camps again--deep woods--canoes on the lake--roasted corn. And a campfire. With a [radio] to bring in music from cities a thousand miles away.
Baseball again--and the scores broadcasted to your [radio] in the backwoods. Quiet days of rest, but not dull days. Rainy days indoors, but days of fun. Fun all day, every day...
i have been in that room and I find it markedly different to have been there than to have seen it in a photograph. it is not due to an inability to perceive the depth or the function of the space. it is due to the reality of truly being somewhere and experiencing it as it is. and that feeling prescribes a quality to a room that the most beautiful of photographs could not
scribbling affirmations on hotel papers
standing outside the bell jar looking in
DO NOT face allah alone when astral projecting do laundry on a sunday
extra contagious gay lime disease [band name]
day 3: battle on houston street.
things are not always perfect on the surface of the sun
every other girl at the truck stop is staring at me
i cant sleep in the city that doesnt
i come back and things dont stay the same
It became something sort-of like "there's the frontman who sings and plays every instrument you have and haven't heard of, and then there's the drummer. He keeps it moving." Drummer's got all four limbs occupied, can't do much other than drum. You've got great arrangements coming out of guys singing and playing 2, 3 instruments at once, and drummers are very limited in what they can do besides drum. So it became about exploring what limbs are completely necessary, what beats you can play with one hand or one foot, how you can use your voice rhythmically. Just anything to expand the concept of the role of the percussionist in a modern rock band.
You've gotta make me laugh. You'll never sell it if I can't laugh. Once you start laughing you stop thinking about all the ways to do it and just start expressing joy. It's the best way to take pictures. Laugh a little.
I always wanted to buy that house. Y'know, when I was older and more financially stable so that I could restore it to its former glory. And then that house burned down.
and there'll be a ticker-tape parade
Naturally, she's just a persona. If she really truly believes it's beautiful when young musicians go out on a hot flame of drugs and depression, why doesn't she just off herself?
urban freeclimbing
Sometimes people who stare at the sun for long enough go blind. Sometimes people who stare at the sun long enough can still see the sun when they look away.
give up the rest of your future
to keep what you love of the past
Envision a yard that once was
Lacking in activity, making up in noise
Rough and gentle, calling out
Calling for me, shaping its own form
Forming the yard that once was
And the sound that always will be
I play out-of-tune guitars and out-of-time drums.
You ever considered that all those people out there rummaging through your pockets ain't just doing it because they need spare change? Maybe you need to toss 'em a few quarters. Least enough till you turn around and own the payphones stop them from calling in the first place.
mundus senescit. the world grows old.
i am not playing skynyrd deep cuts on the dance floor
If I opened a record store, it wouldn't be all punk rock and esoterica.
And it is this oath that I have taken:
That I have become trapped in this hole, which I cannot dig myself out of
That in my search for grace, I have found instead terror
Potent as this terror is, determination, commitment to my righteous journey
It will save me
For if it does not, in this hole I will remain
Here I have lost faith, here I have regained it
And it is here in this hole, that I may stay, waiting, waiting for redemption
Paula found a gold-tone timex watch 7AM Friday 2/3. It is in...
Now that I got that over with
I'll just play my imaginary guitar again
Hey, hah, soundin' pretty good there, me!
If i push on the cieling hard enough maybe itll go higher
maybe i will stop feeling so cramped in here
all i need is 2 more feet above my head
and suddenly everything will be clear
disgusting polyester skirt suit
songs i wrote a little while after david bowie died, when i realized just how cool he was
[^2022^]
Oh Jerome!
I'm just tryna figure it out.
Like a rat in a cage
Cyanotype
Breaking in the piano.
A real melody sings soldiers to sleep!
And then it all slows down...
It builds back up again
The conclusion
I was the first guy playing daft punk to the rock kids
I don't have a TV, and I don't have a radio.
And he cried, A lion: My lord, I stand continually upon the watchtower in the daytime, and I am set in my ward whole nights:
I wish i died in the 80s
Transistor radio!
And so, the summer ends. Drivel and triumph alike, the door closes on us all. A greater year begins, and we march on into the new day.
My greatest regret in life is not going to a concert I didn't even know was happening
People often underestimate what tools can do; that paint roller doesn't seem like such a devil until you've taped too little and gotten white paint all over your favourite cyan doorframe
everything works out nice in the end, the sun will marry the moon, it’ll be fine
Vietnam Symphony
But what first motivated me wasn’t anything I read. I just got mad seeing the machines ripping up the woods.
Stop this story now, as the curtain closes and the audience roars with gratitude. You will find comfort here. However, this is but a false ending. After the curtain closes, the story isn't truly over. The actors must still make it home, go to sleep, continue on with their lives. It is this part of the story that we will now see. And like the story on this stage, it is tragic. It is triumphant. Unlike the story on this stage, unlike the ending presented here, it is true. Make your choice now, before this world comes crashing down on us all. No matter where you end this story, know that the choice to end it was yours and yours alone.
"I'm not gonna open for the black fucking keys"
It's times like these when I try to casually slip the failures of FDR into dinnertime conversation
a song to sing your plants at night to keep them from crying
Cuttlefish say the damndest things when you wake them from their slumber
Cheer up! It’s not the end of the world.
Jarvis, buy all the leftover advent calendars on december 26th
Working on my work, which no one understands
ex contradictione [sequitur] quodlibet
Luckily, God's death has left the position of world-creator vacant. In his absence, I have taken up his former post. I have become the creator of worlds. My breath raises continents from The Great Sea and the swaying of my arms and legs shapes mountains, rivers, towns, cities, people. It is no easy job, but is any that deals with the essence of life? Despite its difficulties, I do love my job. The world which our lord has created is full of wondrous, beautiful, romantic things, but I may never see them all. So, in this world of abundant limitation, I create the worlds of those not-yet-born. And watching upon those created by the essence of life flowing through me, I too of this life essence, I know that these worlds are not truly my creation. Creation is without ownership. Creation is of all. Creations create Creations, and Creations create Creators. And it goes. God may be gone, but his worlds live on.
i knew i had to burn down the supermarket to achieve world peace
so i did
i consider myself a private person
i will now scream about my personal issues to an audience of millions
the flags on the moon are bleached out but is that bleak? are they deleted, or blank? like a fresh sheet of paper ready for new stories
easy music to play but hard music to play well
the experience of being like hey wanna listen to this song and then sitting there just staring at each other until it finishes
the concept of half knowing when everyone passes something to their left and then they know the secret of the person on their right but it's one directional
[^2021^]