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Wed 21 Dec, 2005 01:55 pm
I'm totally f*cking hyped, typed, Michael Stiped--Hey, where you goin' wit dat ****, man here's the thing...associated...free...let your mind wander...I haven't slept in twenty-eight hours...let it be...let it be...
Tar...smell, sticky black, summer heat, black on green, wet on dark, the quest of children...the fight of youth, the victory of the scent of the beauty of innocence, black and slick and smiling, like dad in his younger days, a man, a man, a man to be made hero...
Are you in therapy, or just taking a pee?
There we is, chewing on a blade of grass, reed-thin, breeze soft, skimpy, but uncherished, eyes clear and undrugged, flying...shoulders skeletal but soft, like flexible straw...the scarecrow in utero, still fighting to be born...
I'm sleep deprived, I think I might be hallucinating...
And this would be stream on consiousness. Not to be picky or anything. How would a spaghetti ball be picky? Only if it weren't cooked. Spaghetti sticks. Pickup sticks. Haven't played those in years; maybe should get one for the nephew? Well, a set, not one. okgottagobye.
Stream of consciousness. Crap I wish I could change that title now...what a shitty title...but hopefully we all know what the zombie that is me meant...I should never post with no sleep...f*ck. ****. Damn...take it...
Take that? Well f*ck you too, and that stupid cancer stick. I think you know where you can put it out.
Oh, you mean take the thread? OK. Now I'm just sitting and staring at a moving cursor. I got nuthin. How'd the interview go? You stuck in NYC? Stuck sucks. haha. OMFG I have to get off this thread before everyone sees how lame I am...
Holy ****, you are f*cked up....freedom...the freedom of being a completely f*cked up...you can do whatcha want...f*cked up, outta ya mind...gone...a goddammed drooling mess that needs help, serious help, like a foaming at the mouth epileptic siezure...dog...dirty, sweaty, dog, lick at the vomit you came to bring...it's easy to be a mess....thirty hours without sleep...sleep...sleep...a blessing on its way...free...free as a f*cked up...
Kicky? This is your friend the spaghetti monster talking. Yes, right here on your computer. I want you to, now listen carefully, are you listening, ok, here it is. I want you to...
GO FIND A F*CKING HOTEL!!!!
Oh my god, seriously...I have taken mushrooms in my life, I have tried cocaine, I have drunk multiple types of alcohol to complete inebriation, I've smoked pot, I've sucked helium, I've even had a soccer ball blasted into my face at point blank range...thirty hours without sleep is right up there with the best of alternate states.
Now where's that f*cking hotel key?
I'm gonna go to sleep now...
I once climbed a step ladder in order to fit a ceiling light. As I got to the third step, the top of my head came into contact with the wires that were hanging from the ceiling. This was early on in my DIY days, and I hadn't disconnected the power properly. It was live, and made a sort of BUNF noise.
I woke up on the floor, feeling pretty jittery. I was then wide awake and as fresh as a daisy for almost two days. I worked virtually non stop on the DIY and finished it in double quick time. All the while my mind was racing.....wonderful creative thoughts on how I was going to do this and that. I remember I whistled a lot, and sang along to the music on the radio.
Those 240 volts rearranged my brain in a manner from which I have never quite recovered. If ever anyone gets writers block, just nearly electrocute yourself, then your brain will click into overdrive.
G'night, Mr K. Tomorrow you will look back at this thread in wonder....
all right
who gave kicky the drugs? huh?
Lord Ellpus wrote:I once climbed a step ladder in order to fit a ceiling light. As I got to the third step, the top of my head came into contact with the wires that were hanging from the ceiling. This was early on in my DIY days, and I hadn't disconnected the power properly. It was live, and made a sort of BUNF noise.
I woke up on the floor, feeling pretty jittery. I was then wide awake and as fresh as a daisy for almost two days. I worked virtually non stop on the DIY and finished it in double quick time. All the while my mind was racing.....wonderful creative thoughts on how I was going to do this and that. I remember I whistled a lot, and sang along to the music on the radio.
Those 240 volts rearranged my brain in a manner from which I have never quite recovered. If ever anyone gets writers block, just nearly electrocute yourself, then your brain will click into overdrive.
And another of life's little mysteries is explained away as a mundane near-death experience....
We shall all pray that you never truly recover, Lord.
kickys just takin' a walk on the wild side shewolf.
kicky, what are the colored girls saying to you?
Do whatever they say, they have been waiting for you. follow them, follow them into the light.
I remember reading about some sleep thing about trickling current from the eyes to the back of one's head. Knocks you out, cold. Two hours is like eight in bed.
DrewDad wrote:I remember reading about some sleep thing about trickling current from the eyes to the back of one's head. Knocks you out, cold. Two hours is like eight in bed.
This sounds most appealing. I will now remove the cable from my bedside lamp, tape a wire onto each eyelid, and send myself into a peaceful slumber by flicking the switch.
don't forget to put your feet into a bucket of water
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