Naked and a little boring.

It's 11 hours and 41 minutes into the period of time designated 2013. That's what we say it is anyway.

I've completed a very professional letter to a fellow professional with much assistance from a beautiful writer I've had the fortune to acquaint with this past year. And so at nearly 23 hours into the year but I accomplished something I thought necessary and worth approval in my life.

Funny, I didn't count making another flawless combination of Seagrams Ginger Ale & Gin among noteworthy accomplishments for the day (until now). Also left off my list, despite them being things I did today are:

1. Consistently popping in my plastic fronts aka invisiline braces
2. Pressing a liquid pitcher back into service and filling it with ice water
3. Drinking several glasses of water, as opposed to eating because after all much of the time we American's feel hungry we're actually thirsty which makes most of our eating over reaction.
4. Making proper and regular usage of the bathroom
5. Making moist delicious sandwiches of the turkey breast I roasted and stored weeks ago
6. napping to James Brown no less
7. reading
8. finding watching a fantastic film creation of Julie Delphy feat. Chris Rock among others (the devil in the details was awesome)
9. controlling nagging doubts about my finances
10. remembering to wear my slippers
11. emptying the regular and recycling trash bins

But until I gave this thought, and this blog some effort those actions would have gone uncounted. And as long as we be, we should be counted, otherwise how do we count?

This is the goal and character of my 2013, that I put it out there, it being me and me being everything, Naked and a little boring.

My opinion however banality is to be avoided at all cost, so I will try not to be pedantic in my self-documenting but in parsing the details of my life I find I need to sift through the embers of my actions seeking the useful from the ash, because its quite possible there in the smoldering remains are kindling for tomorrow.

again...

im obsessing

again and

again

HARD TO GET OUT

deep-seated doubt, hard to get out

ticking

deep down,

set the clock for ruination

i'll keep picking

afro-picking

cotton-picking

lock-picking

till i dig the anchor

proving the pause is a fear born yesterday

praise the universe. stayed up all night

6/3/12 12:15pm

I've decided on a new feature. It's an exercise in controlled expression, as opposed to wild ungoverned expression.

I will be writing messages to someone but I will not be sending those messages out. the point of the messages is after all to satisfy myself, either through the expression of the message or from the reaction it receives or both.

Since at least one part of that goal can be satisfied just by producing the message, I might as well satisfy myself by myself. besides, i've no indication the intended recipient would take my messages anyway.

The person will be referred to as "NO one". "NO one the scorpio"

this is the first.

To "NO"

I'ved decided to send quotes and writings to you in the hope of expressing my feeling at the moment in relation to you. Sometimes the words will be mine, this time, not.


“The cure for boredom is curiosity.There is no cure for curiosity.” - Dorothy Parker

seeya later NO

-JSJ

The White Dress

what.the.fuck.is.writitng.
Is this it?
Are we there yet?

Does the accidental rhythm of my intentional expressions create added value?

can the written attempt, the unpolished uneducated literary output consistently measure sum zero, long wordy and nonexistant?

how does this art distinguish what I'm doing here from one who knows better?

is the questmark the mark of bad writing? Then tell me what will.

why can't we share the friends in the divorce cant we split them instead of them splitting?

the point I take it is to have everything stripped, status, lover, friends, the table at the place where we sat, primed for someone knew so then you'll how how much you don't fit there anymore. unwanted.

but I wont leave your native land, I cant know, I wont care and I wont leave here. I'll stay bumbling stumbling beating the hell out of bushes, because I know this land is your land this land is my land, this land was made for you and me.

soothe

feral disgruntled kitten sucks pacifier plunged orally fixed
he small and pissed
at the commandeering of his little tack lined mouth
at the presumptuous endgame of whose key piece is the pacifier
he'd spit that shit out and tell you about yourself
if that damned pacifier wasn't so pacifying.

2/27/11

Morning

as despair goes, so goes morning, as morning passes I fear so goes memory