Power.

"Moralise like the wandering tiger:
in ferocious solitude heed no laws beyond Need
and the compass of a Secret Will"

A quote from a very rare and secretive book.

echo

sadly I never check the email this blog is attached to. thus i missed getting a very sweet request to post this video. I find this peculiar since i operate under 2 assumptions - 1. Nobody reads this blog and 2.Nobody writes in it.

disuse.

Sitting in the dark of my bedroom. The t.v. is on but its just playing snow, I never bothered to convert to digital so it doesn't pick up any channels these days, that's okay I like the white noise and the scattered but consistent glow. Feels ghostly. Speaking of which some spooky things have been happening of late, but I enjoy them and they are secret, regardless I am thinking that I may have been followed home this weekend, followed by a 'haint'. Time will tell.

Sitting in the dark of my bedroom. I am drinking a 'tall boy' of Miller High Life 'The Champagne of Beers'. Its 5 a.m. I am not sure if this is bleak or 'punk'. My downstairs neighbour is being annoyingly loud. He has company and I am worried that soon he will begin to have sex. He is REALLY loud when he gets fucked. It makes me both irritated and anxious. I feel that I should be having loud sex as well, to prove my prowess or something, my social cachet.

Sitting in the dark of my bedroom. I can't sleep. I woke up 3 hours ago because I was having a really nausea (and possibly seizures) inducing out-of-body-experience. An unpleasant Hypnogognic incident. Not fun. Hovered a few inches above my paralyzed body while strange and unseen voices muttered in the corners of the room. Gross. Wrenched myself out of it and took a walk to the store. The Moon was just past full and surrounded by a perfect HUGE silver halo. Pretty. It made me want to feel joyous and complete. Succeeded, partially. I am told that's important.

When I woke up earlier tonight from my lame ass astral projection experience, the cloudy sky was this aweful shade of red and all I could hear were police sirens and ambulances. It made me think of being back in Africa when Table Mountain would catch fire every Summer and burn for like 3 days on end. I was so confused by the feelings cause I was still afraid of the ghosts in the corners, and it wasn't Summer it was Winter, and also I wasn't sure if I was back in my body or not. For just a second it could have been the past or the future, it could have been fear or delusion, nostalgia or regret.

Try harder

I just noticed that I have 11 unpublished blog posts. This will be #12. Unpublished as of 01/09/10. That is all. Thank you for being a frnd.

thursday the seventh. friday the 8th.

I wonder how long this will last, also I wonder if this happens every year? To me. Does it?

I don't remember.

I'm referring to the way I am counting things. 'Counting' as in: 'this is Thursday and it's the first one this year', or 'I have yet to do my laundry this year', or 'that's the second time I smiled at the Caller I.D before answering'.

It would be interesting and highly improbable to count all things great and small for the next 348 days.

Maybe it would be boring. It's likely. However.

It might be useful, I suppose, in creating a graph or schematic/actuarial representation of my being (as a process), I could review it at the stroke of midnight Jan 31 2010. 'Ah ha!'/'hmmm...' I would exclaim/murmur presented with empirical data consolidating an accurate diagnostic report on who/what/why I am.

It could prove useful or damaging, if I was to have my way I would hope for both. Useful and damaging that is.

I have been told that I typically use situations/people/substances to damage myself, I think its because I'm trying to 'damage' myself in a 'useful' way. Useful to myself. Useful enough to damage other things and people, the ones that don't count at all. That don't count to me.

This makes complete sense.

Like certain scars, like explosions and fireworks. It makes complete sense. Doesn't mean I'm any good at it.

There is no math in my head. I suspect this renders me useless in various meaningful interpretations of culture and evolution. Fortunately as a human being I am largely unable to grasp any semblance of what 'meaningful' might actually mean and, like everybody else, I am relatively able to reorganize my perceptions to be incorporated into that thing usefully generalised as 'The Grander Scheme'. This very 'useful' piece of psychic architecture, which you probably share, is one of the crucial 'tic-tacs' holding 'It' all together, I think.

So like I said, I'm counting things this year.

Counting the accumulating hours and dreams and weekdays and mondays and dollars and degrees farenheit and footsteps and staircases and hotel doors and phonecalls and letters unwritten and goodbyes and silences and trees and midnights and gallons and pints and things forgotten and lists.lists.lists.

Lists of things to count. Counting things without counting on anything.

cellphone 2008