midsummer night's eve

it's my birthday
i just spent it drinking alone
save for a random chance enounter with an 0T9 scientologist
i'm listening to depression era blues music but
feeling much funnier than that would suggest.

birthdays always make you remember the past.
haha,not this one.

eat dicks 26.

"last year i was 21,
i didn't have a lot of fun
and now i'm gonna be 22,
i say oh my and ah boo hoo" -iggy pop

oh yeah? well...iggy wrote that when he was already a rotting corpse...
i think that was what...'69.

if you want to do anything for my for my birthday,
simply watch this
and observe 6 minutes
written gorgeous
from the hand of a dead man.

rip albert hoffman

i'm sure you've eaten some lsd and it was directly his fault.

his life is proof that idiot mistakes can cause
accidentally brilliant leaps in evolutionary consciousness
that will allow for us
to brazenly make idiot mistakes
in the future.

i am the way into the city of woe.

Started my new job working for the Ministry Of Suffering.
The only requirement is being able to listen to the gnashing of teeth for 9 hours at a time
while using command line based programs like NASCO which seem to have been coded inside the 6th layer of hell during the uglier half of 1984.

That is all.

The Book of the BAWWWWW

this is an open letter to the world.
if you find fault with it, pity only your self deception.
you will surely hate my hand and my words, but i am stronger.

your ignorance is known but i,never.
i openly mock you.
you...the dead and the dying.
you...who've spent your life making excuses for why you're not responsible for your inability to cope.
you...the unfit whom i will let die in misery.
you...who fill yourself with banal and insignificant pleasures.
you...with your idiotic ideals.
you...with your laughable self serving morality.
you...who coddle yourself with trivial supplications of meaning.
you...who aren't even alive.

you!....a passive spectator who has convinced yourself that you're actually taking part in life.
you!...who would only grant meaning to those who your superiors recognize.
you!...insignificant worm.

you...who's moronic yearnings lead you closer and closer to the stupefaction of your senses.
you...loathsome speck.
you...who's infantile urge for self validation has caused you to mindlessly praise any who would recognize you as an equal.
you...with your tiny woes.
you...with your weak joys.
you...who's grandest designs pale in comparison to the people who you've shamelessly ripped off.
you...with your mindless formalities and ethical whims.
you...who's entire life has been a sham leading up to this moment, and this moment is shit...

this moment reflects you.

i'm laughing.
i'm laughing and smugly pissing on you from on high,
watching you blissfully inebriate yourselves on this vintage wine
that flows freely from my cock.

if i had a red cent for every fake, genre repeating, bandwagon jumping, uncreative pack of style obsessed primates in this country, i would own you.

no, think about it...

i would own YOU.

i would own you and you wouldn't be any the wiser.

i am LUST and POWER.
i watch you fall before me.

(no subject)

yeah im justin and i cant sleep. ive been awake for 20 hours..3 of which were spent staring at what i think was a wall while the lights were off.

im just going to tell you random things and type until i get tired for absolutely no reason at all.

today i went to the library to get on the internet and that is where i ran into an old man named dennis.
dennis is a homeless schizophrenic. we call him the weatherman. he always knows the extended forecast in almost every timezone in the world....daily. dennis is an idiot savant. dennis just walked in the computer lab,watch the librarians scatter.

someone says to dennis.."hey weatherman,how are you doing?"
to which he replies "it's 40 degrees fahrenheit"

at that moment i had this chopping block epiphany about a lot of things in my life, but i cant remember anything at all. no ins and outs of it, just some jigsaw litany in my head that mattered a lot at the time. maybe it was his face..

i don't know why im telling you any of this. probably due to no sleep. i mean,serious. you should see me. i look like a crackhead. eyes bloodshot and bulging. they're actually sticking to the screen as these idiot sentences crisscross and crash in front of me. it's all i can do. im chain smoking. i have a mountain of ash to my right and some novel that doesn't make any sense to my left. the author should've just closed the book while the pages were still wet, folded his arms and went to sleep on those ashes like some dead nerve ending flickering out all graceful and blue

this is gibberish. this is my internal editor locked in a room somewhere itching the end of his nose repeatedly, doped up and useless. this is when insomnia is king. no real messages, just flashes of imagery and memories of things that never actually happened. some star held underwater. a cornfield. a taste of sharp metal, maybe a 9volt battery, maybe dandelion wine. lightning arches across a summer sky but im stuck here in some sad seasonal midwest winter. the only thing to do in indiana is sleep but i can't find it even though the town is the size of a thimble.

i want to erase all these words. i hear a voice somewhere saying..
"get some bulldozers in here. clear out all this crap."

but i dont write letters any more so i'm going to keep this just the way it is to be contrary. i spite myself like that occasionally. i also occasionally say things that are relevant to the situation.

this is not one of those times.

mostly because there is no situation.
just freefall.

it's 20 minutes later.it's 45 minutes later. it's vines growing through the cracks in the doors oclock and i have very little in the way of cognition left in my dumptruck brain. my garbage fingers. my heavy eyes.



new year's resolutions

1.stop calling girlvinyl a jew..this will only result in death and/or SERIOUS RAEP.
2.stop CONTINUE trolling ppl to tears IRL. this will only result in less franco-fags in your general vicinity...
3.stop giving a fuck about other's frailties when they're interfering with your life. this will only result in less birthday presents you'll have to buy.

(no subject)

There is always another book beginning to burn at the moment he closes the book— blows out the candle with that breath of his which contained chance: and, crossing his arms, he lies down on the ashes of his ancestors.