Notes from the Other Side

April 25, 1991: distracted (by my own thoughts)

Relation between Goofy and Horror?
Extreme interest in altered states of consciousness.

The joy of punctuation.

Does MTV shape our hallucinations?
(Do our hallucinations shape MTV?)
((or both))
(((but which is more?)))

What if there was abroadcating service you could subscribe to -- a broadcast that went out on the mental wavelength -- a psychic broadcast, if you will, providing quality psychedelic hallucinations for those who want them... Imagine the commercials?!?!

People who use double exclamation points are stupid.

Euphoric feelings, cold extremities, tingling in the stomach...
Restlessness in my breast. An eternal moving spirit.
I visit the crossroads often, but I don't stay long.

I would be a homeless wanderer were it not for my epilepsy and hemmerhoids. HA! That's what I tell myself -- I never slept out in the open once in my short month of hitching. Still, if I were of generally better health, that wouldn't be so rough. What am I worrying about here anyway?

How do we decide where to draw the line on issues of morality?
Would I respect my intellect more if I adopted a sloppy cursive longhand?
EPIGRAM: Much is grasped -- little apprehended
Did the Romans publish little lists of epigrams? Why not today?

Dear Dad,
Remember 8th grade when I used to write poetry so gruesome that you worried I was sick? Well, you were right...

CINDERELLA -- The Extended Version

The turning turnip turns
into the unturned world without a second chance
turning tunes to words without a second glance

Even fools say wise things on occasion; sometimes for several weeks at a stretch.


cooking lentils. out for a short walk and back again

eating an apple. sweet in some places, sour in others. bruised. huge -- too much, really. I can feel my stomach filling. ah me how existence is so tiresomely framed, so regular, so faithful, so dull No omnipotent God would allow this to occur. Or so I think. Is this the seam? *rip*

two men live side by side, living identical lives, but one has softer toilet paper and is therefore happy beyond delirium, while the other is cursed with a scratchy bunghole and a sadness beyond words

the happy prince.

also of interest: the imperfection of everything, how there's nothing perfect anywhere except in some vague vision we have. Why is that vision so blurry?

Because it indicates only a desire? For the impossible?