i love the sounds

of TRAP walking by my window.
for a moment i wonder.
it passes.
it's as if it's the eyes, resonating from the heart, turn everything into pleasure or angst, not the thing itself.

fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you

i'm actually really good at integrating

love someone beautiful

it's a quality.

i have this sticker of a quote which says: the beginning of love is to let those you love be perfectly themselves, and not to twist them to fit our image. otherwise we see only the reflection of ourselves we find in them.

so there's this inquiry about loving and receiving a reflection of love back. and you just know when you love someone for who they are without trying, and the other times when you love your own reflection.

you know what i heard today in a song?

life is a game and true love is a trophy.

fuck that! i want the trophy! i am totally winning.

i have to see the Art in it

we breathe. we sense. we work and strive and relax and ask questions: why am i here? what is it for? if meaning is not to be found in lyrics such as, 'all of us are in the gutter, some of us are looking at the stars;' or 'the reason we're here, as man and woman, is to love each other, take care of each other;' or 'when love walks in the room, everybody stand up;' or 'turn away from it all like a blind man;' then, where is it?
trick question!
breathe, feel, you get all this. i won't stop 'til i feel my heart stop beatin'. repeat. ask. breathe, relax, wonder, poeticize, build, laugh, see, listen, feel. until the end of time.

old music and dick patrol

gravity's theme song (sorry aries vegan love, you can still use it)

under pressure, a capella

this makes up for all the dicks out there on the streets today

there is no noise

and i don't read my horoscope anymore.

i wish i had a beebee gun to shoot out the lights on the loft across the street.

my body is my first gift. if six were nine. break it up. my second gift is my son.

i have my hands.

solitude.

if you could start over, what would you do?
back then, or it being now.

what are the steps then? from here.

i am so ready.

desired results and other small campaigns. truth dart. tropicuntstigram.

new music

boom bip last walk around mirror lake

bronski beat small town boy is always a good one from the past but the past is just a really good bunch of memories.  and i really like this video.

peace is underneath

what is actually happening right now? slow it down. replay. only quieter this time.

countless processes simultaneously.

where is all of this happening? in the body. in the mind. simultaneously.

how we use whatever language we have to make sense, and how language too can bind.

what is it that has no words? what exists without all this imposed meaning?

and so, you can stress about it.

irony in action: flipped off google street view today

hahaha! transformation

Butterfly.

Butterfly butterfly butterfly.

I mean, when they show up twice randomly in one day they're trying to tell you something!

Because I speak the language of flowers.

Especially the magnificent BLUE ONES!

you almost had your hooks in me

shit not finished

heard on street:

"'cause it's all fucking merciless!"

mercy: noun. forgiveness towards someone (including oneself*) to whom one has the power to do harm.

does anyone remember a recent post indicating the opposite? redundant punctuation foregone?

i do. it was, "life is merciful."

*thank you dharma punx.

and it was said with such enthusiasm and matter of factness! and i was in a very good mood.

unlike last night. during which the two characters on my street who i wish would go away yelled and soothed each other in their hyper methamphetamine state.  who's world is it anyhow? forbidden zone.

and, so, impermanence. 

shit is finished

eight days past done.  "i'm ripe. in fact, i'm discounted!"

sigh. like, seriously: inspire.

endings signifying beginnings. punctuated by pisces' birthdays. revolution. gratitude. peace out. just a minute. wait.

this concludes 365 on 21st street metaphorically speaking of course.

groove

segue! segway!

pac's life
that was last time
tonight something way more mellow

this town is so fun

for god's sake, skip ad
this song

the countdown, or touchless carwash and withdrawals

karalarma is the result of many deprecating thoughts imposed on car alarms and their conspirators.
instant karalarma is the same, only there is no delay.

a cycle is nearing completion. where are you now and how much closer does it feel?  a struggle with physical and temporal distance. wrangling with it like stones chained to me, gritting my teeth; that pierced by amusing lovely beloved lovable thoughts, the scent of eucalyptus jasmine magnolia cut cedar, and chuckles about burning bridge metaphors.

don't go chasing waterfalls

just remembered why i have so much song inside me: i was raised with sound. my home was full of music.

my young wise beautiful friend said why are you so cool in your mid forties? i said, 'cause it's all i got. 

rhye: stay open.

gratitude in every cell, like the warm sun. 

god doesn't steer my car

but sometimes i wonder if he messes with the clutch

justice. little by little.

i can do titles. this one deserves developing.

terms of endearment

poopie
fool
mother fucker
dood

ooh! one of those things is not like the other!

boo
cutie
sugar
sweetie
but fool is by far my all time favorite

satya, ahimsa

satya: tell the truth
ahimsa: do no harm

where these intersect/diverge? where is the discernment?

then, contentment. then, allowing the choices of others to rest without appeal.

again, senses

topics include: fragrance, hate, ignorance, living on earth, crooked dogs, vibes vibes vibes.

prayer and consciousness.

it sounds like a machine breathing

it sounds like a giant truck breathing, purring

what is that rumble? it's rhythmic.  never could spell rhythm. that's a fucked up word.

words of the day; stopped counting

hi
uncalled for
meme
thoroughfare
furthermore
angels
loverboy (-queen)
liquid love
flame/old flame
youtube in retrograde

can
can i
can i call
can i call you
can i call you sweetheart

what's it going to be like?

smells like shit in the mission

and like the ocean in the west, and like bay and oak in the east.

it's a great day for coke points! and to pull the wool off our eyes and think about changing direction: what do we want to see? how do we get there?

i want to change my font to system and listen to STRFKR.

i want to remind people about the lines in the road: structure defines, puts a limit to the chaos.
we laugh. we listen to bird women. we make fun of plato's legacy.  darts.  and always the attraction! repulsion! and the place in between.

beautiful things get lost all the time

1991 notebook: i am an agent of chaos.

24 years ago.

cold morning song

is there some sort of sports situation happening?

'cause all i hear is chatchatchat raaaraaaraaa

thump thump thump

loud thing, smells like, and spirit animal

it sounds like an alien ship going down the street. it bends sound.

smells like jelly donuts!!

white buffalo dream.

all felt or heard or smelled or dreamed on the street. BTSTU.

we are crumbling stone.