LEARNING HOW TO SAVE FACE IN THE FRIGHTENED DANGERS LYING AHEAD

consist of http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Microwave_auditory_effect

i don't know, something i've been tapping into as of the late...maybe i will go somewhere with this.


SO :
is love an algorithm formed by a binary coalesce, consisting of elements locked inside ones head saved to be determined on a later date? perhaps a rainy day? these past events that flickered in and out of brief moments in my life are now creating a binary-string, no no not binary, instead, digital string, quite advanced lets say. oh wait ! numbers - yes . its a code breaking barriers. perhaps it is the positional representation system; wavelengths are sent out through the numerology's, representing all the characteristics of what one is looking for. depending on our position at that very moment, we sticking to numbers and souls that are in need. the brow is graced with the presence and in lies your touch where a wave of a mystical visions occurs. is it all leading to the final test? the final push play effect; working and jotting and working

(sometimes my mind is so shaky but you bring me the comfort & ill bring the sobrierty and well mix the two and lets see how this one heads out)
maybe instead love is loose left pieces of us, scattered around ashes, forming some unknown knew vibration mechanically or irrationally even sent out to the universe with no oppositions allowed. little pieces of us flicker into particles of ashes around us that while others release these, they swirl together and create a new found sent aroma to the other person causing LOVE

i'm smiling wide somewhat shyed at you
with eyes slinted curiouser and curiouser for you

cant stop worrying about you & your lifes falling apart but i cant be there for you anymore and im sorry and i want to so badly but i know i'll slip but fuck, is that a lie? i'm going to slip anyways, its just a matter of
t
i
m
e

"The road of excess leads to the palace of wisdom."

daydreaming of

morphine
dilulads
oxys
roxies
heroin

and
amphetamines
please




this life is so boring. i don't want to be near anyone or anything or anywhere i just want to sit in my room be skinny enjoy my old ways
now
it is annoying to go to work
school
live
live
live

i am not even living
im existing
i was living before
enjoying


wah wah wah
keep whining lizzy
its gonna get you realll far
& for some burroughs:

The hallucinogens produce visionary states, sort of, but morphine and its derivatives decrease awareness of inner processes, thoughts and feelings. They are pain killers; pure and simple. They are absolutely contraindicated for creative work, and I include in the lot alcohol, morphine, barbiturates, tranquilizers—the whole spectrum of sedative drugs.

lancaster, i'm coming for you, i'm coming to get you & you'll see.

back on the ides of MARCH i died a little bit

in this mind of mine, the atoms are not all set into places anymore where they should be. they are slowly scattering, spiraling into the depths of the crevices of a deteriorating unicorn like dream world fantasy take my hand come with me to the voice of the unknown. where the walls are open and roses in the closet are drawn by others planted into this situation .


i've been planted into a sticky situation of sunflower beams growing from my mind, exploring a world filled with delusions. is it so very wrong my malicious intent, i am only aware of after it happened? how do i conduct experiments anymore when my mind is blank? its a slate of atoms not delicately interconnected no more no no instead, instead it is drawn like a puzzle piece with all the wrong pieces placed into the wrong boxes, we wont solve this; fix this. interactions are making the one unstable. i cant stand my own mind. its blank.

help.

why are my thoughts so scattered? why did i misplace myself? am i the angel headed hipster fallen saint crank heart lost in my own world that ginsberg cried about? have i done this to myself? why am i misplaced? feel me out: make this better.

into a vehicle we sat where typewriter ink streamed from the seatbelt to the chair; there were pianos chiming and vibrations and you spoke of brooklyn's nighttime daydreaming fantasies; nothing was real and everything was an illusion in this world i created you stated. are you real? is anything that has gone on lately? when did i come to this? i am yr burnt piece of toast thrown away . i am the overcooked slice of pizza nobody wants to eat. i am the defected Christmas toy returned before a new year has had the chance to arise.

my mind is crooked. it needs fixing. please be kind, fix this mess i have been entangled in. i cannot do this alone.

can someone, such as myself, with such a rotted soul, become someone with a kind heart? I don't think it is true.not in this atmosphere anyway. i fake it often. i fake most emotion. it's true - in these settings i am quite selfish.
how long can i stay sober for?
i've drank two separate nights. i have only told one person this. now its written on here. i haven't been drunk yet.
i know i will use heroin again. i can't fucking wait. it's all just a matter of time. mater of when i can score big. matter of when i can go out with a bang ! matter of when no one is home to catch me this time around. i am done with this life. it's just not for me.
i want to go live in the clouds.
this life is too real for me to imagine.
just faking day by day this superficial happiness.
i've been happy in the past.
i know there are future happy days to come.
i
just
dont
want
them

is that such a crime? if i know what i want, why does the rest of the world have to be selfish, then reply that I AM selfish? I worked fine at my job. i went to classes. i always used my own money. i paid my own rent.
everyone has their vicerag.
some people like twisted fucking pornos.
some people get their rocks off drinking.
some people live the double life. work hard play harder.
me? i liked to tie up. so the fuck what.
its not legal, so let the cops take care of it. dont play patrol on my life mother. its not yr fucking job, nor will it ever be.
i'm sick and tired of everyone telling me to make my own decisions, yet i am still babied.
i am the worlds oldest baby & i want to try on new skin for a while. perhaps go off the radar. perhaps just end it all already.
i wont pass out while trying to end it this time. i've measured it all out. just a matter of when i have money again.
i have too many bills to do what i really want. i have too many responsibilities. i would have gotten sober for 20 grand if they sent me to school in california. instead - rehab. where i used it as a nice break from reality. i told them i'd be using again. and i will. because it was not what i wanted, and guess what, i am a selfish cunt when on long island.


i wasnt like this in rehab. you know, its funny, as much as i hated being away...i was nice as hell. i treated everyone with the respect they deserved. noone was judging me for the first time. noone was trying to romanticize life and compliment me just to get in my pants. it was all pretty real.
it felt so much more realistic than this world ive painted for myself.
i need a break from this all.
its funny, im more depressed now, then when i was using.
ha !! Jokes on me !!!

i never understood do it yourself projects,
or forced words,
or faking love just to clear loneliness
i never understood why i have to go to college
or rather
why i have to pay so fucking much to LEARN (okay maybe i understand the market but still..)
why finding new friends & traveling is TABOO
how we have to find ourselves and represent ourselves through our exterior image
why everyone is too fucking lazy to peel the mask away
why it matters so much to everyone if i keep my well paying job OR actually live for myself
i'm done living for everyone else
the more i do it
the more it breaks my heart more and more to realize the commodity ive become to everyone
im just another fashion trend lurking in and out of your closet
i'm just yr favorite toy that will be on the shelf soon enough
i'm sober yes, but happy? no. i was happier before. noone believes this. it was easier to numb all the shit rotting away at my miserable days.
yes i have friends too many though that i dislike
i just want a change of scenery
i don't want to be on long island anymore.

i was happy once you know

i want to crawl in a small corner of the universe and just be let be for a very very long time . . . it annoys me everyone thinks im getting better, this is not better, its all just a waste of time til d day
bmbambmmmm

never finished

“Whether a person feels positive or not is kind of a comment on their personality and of no great interest. You can find positive signs or you can find negative signs. How you evaluate them depends on something that happened in your life recently or something like that. There's no objective way to do it. The important thing is you try to commit yourself to making the positive signs more real. Suppose you felt that there's 99 percent of a probability that human civilization is going to be destroyed in the next hundred years, but one percent chance it won't be, and that one percent offers some opportunities to do something. Well, you commit yourself to that one percent.” CHOMSKY.

Individuals perception untainted by others influence does NOT exist.

So if we cannot see it, is it there? Is the possibility for a changed future there, if we cannot create the vision for it? There are things we can envision: our car sitting in the garage waiting for us, where we were prior to this retreat, the books lurking in the corner of our bedroom, our clothing slinking past us in the closet, the hidden pills taken to avoid feelings and emotions, our friends who are circling around us, even those who we have only met once or twice.
We act on our primitive - emotional - perception, not necessarily the rational one. This is due to our limbic system. It creates little folded pieces of clothes in our dresser so to speak; we fold our memories - both positive and negative - and safely keep them tucked inside - all developing and changing how we foresee our future and how we may react in future circumstance.
And now, many of us are left, devoid of all hope, with a belly full of apathetic emotions, not knowing where to turn, being afraid of a future - afraid of change, afraid of letting go of those blankets of resentments and playing the victim role, in order to change our future. Without personal growth, no real change can develop. We are a country that depends so much on human communication, hearing and speaking to each other, that we see little of the larger scheme. Too often when asked to recall events, we do not know what the person was wearing, who was driving, where we were, how the weather was, and so on and so forth. We lose so much of the larger picture of 'reality.' This is similar to the mending of my seasons. For our grandmothers were seamstresses so why have I not picked up this hobby? Re-created the garment? Re-created my mind. It's a slow process I suppose. Like picking up the needle to stitch for the first time, instead of using it to shoot myself. It's learning again. Re learning how to deal with all these fuck ups I've created.i have a leaky mind that needs repair. needs patching. i cannot do this simply by socializing in this group. it's much more for me. it's re-creating how to see. how to hear. how to use my senses intertwined with one another. how to learn how to see the larger scheme of things in order to obtain self empowerment, self happiness, and above all, feeling more than just okay at where I stand in society.,

We are told here, that this is a marketing research group. How does noone else see this? How does no one else realize that although the program is on the brink of something great (through learning, re-learning, observing and so forth) how does no one see that because this is an experiment, we are the subjects, we are doing exactly what we do (perhaps it is subconsciously...) because we are being watched? Tested? What if there were no cameras? What if our answers were not used for research? I know I would be acting differently. What if we knew we could get away with more? We are all sitting here, dumbfoundedly, obeying rules that are not necessarily there in outside circumstances. DOES anyone realize that this affects our future results? Things are not so easy on the outside world. We are so protected here, like newborns, we are all newborns and being watched and nutured...only...we are adults. we are choosing to listen and see what we want to see. Things pass my mind all the time here - I do not have to be on gaurd, someone else is on gaurd for me. I do not need to listen to everyone speak, for they will speak anyway, sometimes forced, sometimes not. Forced conversation really aggravates me. Especially ice-breakers, and conversations that may not necessarily come about. Why? Because it is all another little experiment to see how people answer things when put on the spot. Why not let things come natural? This program is here to tell people how to make better choices; how to learn how to overcome with what we went through in the past; yet we are treated like infants. We are fed. We do not need to clean. It is a comfort zone while we get 'better' or like they like to say, while we learn how to re-adjust to society. Talk about victimizing ! We are treated like the victims ! Never have I ever had it this fucking good! And I will never again. Hence why it is so easy to adjust here; to fit in, to feel at 'home.' All the circumstances surrounding me allow for this, helping open my mind to reach my goals and dreams when we get home. There are no external forces. Why don't they teach us a lesson on external forces? And i'm not talking with drugs. I am talking with dealing with serious issues here. Dealing with death, dealing with the fact that many of our friends are dead, dealing with rapes, dealing with not having a steady foundation at home to walk into. Are we now supposed to be ready for this?It's a big joke. It really is. I am taking the positives from this program, however, does no one else see the problem with this?It is bogus ! Because we know it's an experiment from a research group, we immediately act differently, whether we forget this or not. we are swaying our senses because we are told to. This is insanity !!! wake the fuck up. this is an alter-reality so to speak.

Perhaps I'm just mad. Perhaps I am correct. Perhaps my ideaologies are shifty too. We start to do dishes. We compliment one another. We act like this really happens in a day to day situation. No one has qualms or questions it. It almost amuses me. Let me see how many people I can compliment today. Let me see how many people tell me I look pretty, just because my hair is straightened. Let me see how many people invite me to play an activity, even though I do not necessarily like the activity OR get along with them. Call me a pessimest if you will, call me unvisionary, call me a breath of fresh air, fuck I do not care what I am called, but lets realize this is not our true identity here. You are being lied to. This is so humourous. Lets see if love can exist after this place, or is it love because of the atmosphere we are put in.

rush of blood

when the rush of the blood went from me, into an iv, back into me, into yr mouth, drinking my blood, beautiful beautiful beautiful. there's supposed to be something i've gained back from cutting this out: my life.
where are you?
where did my dreams go?
and my soul & heart too?
i'm afraid i don't have those anymore. yes, i am a kind soul. . . (or perhaps, perceived as one)...i don't have a soul. i don't have a mind. my eyes are rotted apples. sour if you will. will anything ever feel as good again? so sue me, i'm a hedonist.

i never asked to be saved
i don't want to be sober
it's so fucking hard not numbing myself
oh good, i can be just like 'you'
the rest of the world
normal and conformed
doing what everyone else does
walking through this show like its some sort of museum, NOT LIFE
walking through my stupid fucking life with stupid fucking goals that i don't give two shits about


HATE SOBER LIFE
stop getting in my brain and check photobooth

hospital visits late night for a lung collapsed & i feel as if i betrayed you now, sitting here, you alone, waiting...realizing i'm not coming back to you. i was the nurse who loved you, bringing you a shot of dope so you wouldn't feel any pain...by all accounts you really should have died and yr still alive & you don't have the spark like when we first met...you are not for me anymore...hop hop hop along kiddo

also,
i laughed today
because
i realized
how fucking beautiful my dope dealer was
who keeps trying to date me
...
i was always nodding out when i saw him
i never even realized.
laugh laugh laugh
beauty in the blind perhaps
fade out
tune in
drop out
sync lips
dialect
never touched
our eyes will never meet
your bad news boy
--
and you, the dealer
always curiouser and curiouser as how to tie up
one thing i never liked was everyone asking me
to tie them up
it's not my job
i tied one person up
they quit forever
they lied & told me they did it before
i've had a lot of guilt over this
there are a lot of things i feel guilt over
but not
over
what ive turned myself into
i miss myself
i really suck sober

things are tricky;
i fall in love when it's not in season
in brief moments
when its too cool for shorts still
when black flies are out

there are three
one for his kind hearted nature
one for the dopefiend blues
& you, because we planned a future together


what am i ever to do with myself?

don't interrupt me.
there is a lot of mixed signals traveling through these wavelengths. there are signs of good blood
bad blood
i don't ever take the right path
it's such a bore
lifes too easy now
too simple
reality (mine) is not this fluid
this easy
this simple

will you still like me when i arrive home & i'm not skin & bones anymore?
when i'm not a heart filled with broken glass for you to mend ?
when you can't kiss my skinny throat, because i'm average now?
when my mind and the delusions are no longer vivid?
when i can't see the shadow people with you?

are we on different pages now?
have you truly turned the page also?
was it all just a phase?
why did we dream in sync j?

i remember we'd sit in my car you & i remember when you told me your dreams stopped.
i kept thinking, but but, mine just begun. . .
you used to dream of me with a child with you & we had then two & i wore sundresses & i'd take them to the park to play in the sand and go on the swings & you'd be watching & you said i was the most beautiful wife & mother you've ever seen
But
in mine
we'd run around the city, collapsing, i'd be searching for you, you'd be searching for heroin, not helping me ... i'd be helping you get the heroin & escape the city but you didn't want anything to me.

they were strange & vivid dreams.
they are quite parallel to the way we treated each other, in retrospect, maybe.

you say yr sober now and i am worried that im going to regress w/ u

CUE the orchestra...

There is a tiny orchestra singing in an unexplored language floating in between my ears. I am the conductor and yr learning these vowels an sounds with me. yr teaching the conductor the correct rhythm and timing...letting this conductor set the pace.theres an audience watching - theyve all seemed to approve ladadaldabyeeeee
-
i find myself in the most peculiar moments thinking of you
you see,
i can only love when its unfashionable
my heart is fickle & my mind is one of irrational ------
brief moments are for me

EAT MY FUCK

i'm still a terrible person. just not drugged for the cinematic debut.

wonderful! front row viewing ! superb !

old haiku

fuck you picasso / with yr blue phase you jaded / pink sunflower skies



boo, foreverjavascript:void(0)

i cannot spew achoos with the rhythmic kept blues that once rolled off my tongue, no no sweet pea, not anymore. for a sticky oatmeal paste left a residue quite untrue inside this mouth of mine. yes it's hard to swallow - hard to taste the truism of sobriety nowadays. it sings back to me, stuck in my throat, hard to swallow, hard to grasp, hard to get out . . .
i'm ready to fade like the staes we dreamt of in my car. baby, i'm missing the oxies and roxies (ya know, the blues - - not you)

&& i'm not sorry. . .
i've got a case of the dope fiend blues - sometimes yr pantone 292 hair too
oh my junkie love i'm stuck in the heroin hotel ... yet i'm learning to enjoy every minute of it
--
DO NOT RETAIN THIS IN YR BRAIN

prior to the dream of my silenced screams you said you were gouing to leave ! the building went into flames as i sat in the dungeon of a cave with an unfamiliar hand clasping at my face - mouth, technically. inmy dream you were someone who i did not want to leave, not just yet.
STRANGE
CONCEPTS
ARISE
?
CONFUSION EMERGES
in these day dreams

on the seventeenth i fell in love with a bag, both on my first time & on my six month anniversary. i dreamt of the bag, the taste, the bitter residue in back of my mouth
---

18th
& the best kisses ever drove in from lebanon, wrapped in a purple sleeve singing of lifes non existences. and i sang a song back at you regarding a bad decision or two. and yes its true, u come in around the moon with bright eyes lighting up the room...quieting the defeaning broken dreams in my life...yr bringing me coffees so sweet and declicious and sneaking into my room - hey lets cause some mischief so ive got these problems to sort but if you sneak on in ill fix those later & let my hands crawl into yrs and
--
i find myself learning to love in the most pecuilar ways - but mostly when it is not fashionable to love. when love is prohibited, yet still in secrecy encouraged. when yr heart beats to the rhythm of the drums and my legs the drum set and yr hands are the sticks . when the weathers too cool for thelake but not warm enough for yr oversized grey jacket. its becoming evident from the lock in our eyes when they meet. i worry i cannot wear this poker face much longer. i worry because i never want to spend another day without someone so nice in my life. i have never fully felt this way until this point in time. CUE the orchestra...

There is a tiny orchestra singing in an unexplored language floating in between my ears. I am the conductor and yr learning these vowels an sounds with me. yr teaching the conductor the correct rhythm and timing...letting this conductor set the pace.theres an audience watching - theyve all seemed to approve

this is the first time soer i can just 'be'. i felt similar to this once, when young, but never quite so heightened level. romanticism is frightened in between he notes playing. her trying to hide it all ... to save myself...but yet...i still do not fully want to.

you taught me how to explore words again , through new eyes. words again, through new vowels. yr teaching me how to draw again, with improved fingers
im forever changed in the most beautiful way but but but
its all too pretty an real to ever last, please just let it last, oh please let me be ready to leave when the inevitable comes.
most kind gentle human to ever cross my path - enterntally thankful for hat

youve taught a spun out junkie a new way to see life, htank u for helping me open these eyes
i hope this life of happiness continues when we go our seperate paths

im sleeping with lucifer . i used to get off to satan. they appear on the outside to be the same: the beautiful angel damned to hell & then there's satan, the one whose evil wreaks like oil leaking out of yr old cadilliac.