| terms for trees |
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| 01:43am 05/01/2006 |
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i'm not talking to you this year.
go back to germany
i want it back- every stitch every thread
that i bled on bevnaps
every jot and tittle every scrap
i want it all back
but i know you will never give it to me
why? because you didn't save it.
there's no pile of it waiting to be published posthumously
you threw it all away because you didn't care.
you can't give it to me.
you refused everything i offered
i refuse to offer more.
and somewhere all my offerings are turned to refuse.
you wonder why i won't hug you.
like an alcoholic offered communion wine-
i'll pass.
avoiding you is absolution in my religion.
i've got the thirst, but you never quenched it.
you wasted my talent for witty insight
playful subtle repartee
the turn of phrase
lexical precision
metered meaning-ed nattering
and the lives of forests of trees turned to
four by four postcard napkins
and a whole lot of my time.
i want it back. |
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| Can our approximation of time be Euclidian as well? |
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| 03:32am 20/12/2005 |
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music: five eight- i'm still around
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things which equal the same thing also equal one another.
if equals are added to equals then the wholes are equal.
If equals are subtracted from equals, then the remainders are equal.
Things which coincide with one another equal one another.
The whole is greater than the part.
the parts and wholes of my time don't seem differentiated or even dilineated.
Rushing past my past,
I have moved so far from home
that i have returned.
bleh. let it stand, though. I found the hairdryer to comprise one half of my sister's christmas present. she'll get the real deal later this year, but dear brother frankenstien will be wrapping a present for her yule-tide joy. the monstrosity has a european plug. where the hell did this thing come from? wait, i condemn your sarcastic responses to the dungeon of rhetoric. anyway, after the duct tape and racing stripes, her electric staple-gun will be alive. ALIVE!
she also wanted an extra hour in every day. i bought a nice wall clock and some glow-in-the-dark paint. i'm gonna have to find a copy of auto cad in order to describe a circle with thirteen segments. i certainly don't trust myself without a protractor. too bad i realized too late that she will be getting an extra hour in every night, too, but i guess it's not too far outside the letter.
now will i be able to remove and replace the hands without disrupting the mechanism?
gotta get up with the kid in three hours. i hope he is over his cold. |
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| then i realized i don't need lamaze classes |
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| 12:07pm 05/12/2005 |
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in no particular order i
got a job
wrecked my car
went on a couple of dates
danced my ass off
got shunned by old friends
made some new friends
made it to sixth level in cooking
got online hookup without goin to the man
caught up on movies
got behind in sleep
learned about teething second hand
made an impression
escaped notice
fulfilled imaginary obligation to blog
received bum candy from the poopsmith |
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| razzle frazzle infection |
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| 05:21pm 05/09/2005 |
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so now i need to borrow Gunn's time machine for instant knee replacement service.
i busted mine open on a rock. mmmmm, skin jelly.
ok, so packing list:
-tazer to immobilize my future self
-scalpel
-tongs
-needle and hose to give myself a blood transfusion
-bandaids
-sewing kit
-key to unlock my house
-big rock to knock myself out if i wake up mid-surgery
-shock proof suit and helmet to protect myself from a past-self coming for my newly healed knee
ok, here goes. |
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| river pirates, ho! |
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| 10:43pm 04/09/2005 |
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mood: salty music: sea shanties
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well me maties, the pirates have returned from their raid to the spring river, arr! We dropped anchor about dusk friday and made our camp in a lonely corner far from the navy patrols. saturday we began assaulting merchant vessels, taking our wages in the abundant booty. we went through 12 gallons of pirate brew, and the keg be flotsam. i set a new friend on my shoulder all day today, a yellowjacket. His name is Scurvy Bob, for his jaundiced color and the cut of his jib. Cap'n Jean Lefeet commanded the mission. Under him were Jack the Black, Bloody James Kid, PollyDactyl, Cannonball Red, Yeoman Bonesaw, the Poppet, Mr. Roach, and me, the First Mate Sharky Parkinson. Time to close the books and score the ledger. To an enriching endeavor!
--FM Sharkey |
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| silver lining to a dark dark cloud |
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| 11:14am 31/08/2005 |
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so my brother bought his wife and son The Bible on Tape.
take a breath.
the poor little guy. and poor me stuck in the house with it.
but guess who is narrating it. go ahead. guess.
James Earl Jones. doing the king james version.
now i have every reason to look forward to revelation.
samples are on me, fellas.
--slain |
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| exit to your left |
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| 03:32am 29/08/2005 |
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It was starting to rain slightly when the Hairston 8 closed its doors for the last time. The movies had run down and were sitting by the back stoop neatly wrapped up in the orange octagonal boxes, like stop signs on a deserted corner. The concession stand seemed ravaged by locusts. The exposed light bulbs where menu boards weren't
illumined the squares of counter unstained by the ages of housing nacho warmers and slushy dispensers and hotdog rotisseries. Long hidden secrets came to light of the cracks and crevices between the walls that stay and the bins that were moved out. Two cigarette butts, smoked after hours perhaps? Were they lovers with nowhere else to go, or a loner with more time to kill than desire to leave? Detritus of fifteen years: a horde of lost pens, scraps of paper faded to illegibility, a hat scrunched to the dimensions of a sierpinski gasket, dreams and wishes.
Schlepping it all out we turned back to see empty poster tubes pushed in the corners under gaping walls where banners' voices left empty echoes of unfaded paint. Drag marks followed us across the carpet to the waiting truck where oak benches piled onto ice cream freezers and cookie ovens, and like a star on top, the huge wall clock reigned over a dozen filthy fire extinguishers.
I piled one hundred posters into my trunk and tipped my hat to the unlit marquee, frosted over by apathy. No more shows tonight or any night at the Hairston 8. No more matinees or morning rentals, and the smell of popcorn slowly fades in defeat.
--slain |
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| homecomings |
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| 11:03am 26/08/2005 |
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i guess i can never go home again. while i was gone my temp job slot was filled by a perm. and the movie theater closed for lack of business. james is well tho. we're weighing him as i write at sara's office.
--slain |
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| 11:53am 22/08/2005 |
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mood: focused music: x and y
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I made it back to Atlanta, one month from my birthday. I feel like i've already gotten all of my presents.
I just spent nine days of vacation in Memphis, soaking up the love of those I left behind.
Friday last I drove the super-secret back route from ATL to MEM cutting the drive-time to five hours. Well, I break the laws of time and space at every convenience.
That night was jello-wrestling. I was skeptical, but the challengers warmed up to it. I was the promoter. You should have heard the shit i was talking about honor and skill. You would have thought I had something at stake to get these girls slightly naked and squirming in goo. Then I took bets. heh heh. the hosts used dry ice to freeze the jello solid, unfortunatly the wrestlers got burned. My friend eric wears his like a badge o honor. i remember exchanging pleasant barbs with my friend's ex. i remember doubting the jello formula so much i told some people not to come. i also remember that i got drunk on the way to drink with my friend before i went to drink at the party. oh yeah!
The next day was a marathon wedding out at a farm in south memphis. some friends of mine, who seem like they've been married for years, finally got hitched. The bride rode up in a carriage, and after the ceremony the couple was carried away. While we were there, a horse broke open a fence and wandered up to the house to see what was going on. He just stood there while all us city folks laughed and pointed. the reception was an open bar with the hottest fake bartender ever. she was a realtor, but her pitchers of long island ice teas could have knocked over that horse. and as for other stuff it was st patrick's day and later that night there was a drum circle. i missed that part because i am an idiot. I went to a karaoke party where they had placed red gels over every light in the house. That's two sets of sensory organs in pain. out back they had warm beer and unusually stinky mosquito candles that didn't work. there go the other three senses.
Sunday was pool night. I wanted to get up early and eat brunch at my favorite place where they serve free mimosas and have all-you-can-eat bananas foster. I tear up just thinking of the place. Instead i went comix shopping and spent 94 dollars. It was worth it. Then later was pool at the english pool hall where the waitresses were dressed up in gothy catholic school girl uniforms. needless to say i played like shit. it was the first of many pint nights.
Monday i stole a trunkload of movie posters from ridgeway and home office. ha! it's good to have connections. it was also good to see all of my old friends. i was supposed to get up that morning and play frisbee golf, but blew off my friend. can you see a theme for my mornings? There were countless dancing mushrooms in memphis when i was there, and monday night a friend fed me a chocolate. it was fun but after we went for a walk a bunch of people showed up. i don't think i had a good time after that.
Tuesday i had dinner and swimming at a friend's new place. I entertained his very young children by dying in dramatic and loud ways or by pretending to read my diaper diary. Alas, as the true reoccuring theme of the week, i left as soon as a i could to go somewhere else. That night i ran a one-shot for the old d&d crowd. and by ran i mean ran into the ground. half of them fell asleep. (silly people with day jobs) and i finally had to stop myself from yawning over descriptive text. oh well, i'll just never play again.
Wednesday I had dinner with the old mechanics from the theater. These guys are clint eastwood sweet. we laughed about old times and new crimes. Then i hurried to a bar where everyone was eating steak. RAW! i don't see how john gately hasn't contracted worms or gotten pregnant or something. I remember Uriah signing some legal document in order to get a rare burger at st. clair, but i chalked it up to his alien dna. anyway, i had to drink more and quickly. Then i raced off to another bar, a birthday party. Sadly, there were no women at this bar. At least the brass band was good.
Thursday was back to that first bar. I was pretty far gone when my dad showed up. Drinking with dad was surprisingly very easy. He's friends with some of my best friends, and we all had a good time taking it easy. I went home with the pretty girls, where another friend fed me another chocolate. Sadly, while the women were running an errand, a bunch of frat guys showed up. So, as soon as the girl returned, we took off like a shot. I drove us around, even though we were all in the same boat, and let me tell you... That was Trippy! Memphis has never seemed so beautiful as at that displaced time on those deserted streets. I heard people cheerfully calling to me all night long.
Friday was a surprise party for Teresa, who returned from Germany. There was a surprise keg and surprise barbecue. There was even a surprise barbershop quartet. I brought a big map and we all signed her welcome homes on it. There was a surprise cake and surprise cheer. Ah, Teresa. Nothing I say to you comes out right. I blush when I point out the moon. I vomit whenever you say, "hey stan." How can you not be bored with me? Haven't you heard all of this before? Everyone loves you, relegating me to second spear-carrier from the left. I don't deserve your smile. The dregs of the party went to RP tracks for about half a second. How disappointing! We left that sausage factory to crash a birthday party. That was a lot of fun because i found people i knew in unexpected places and met someone really sexy who is moving to atlanta to go to law school. she put her number into my phone and i gave her mine. read on to see how hopeful i am....
Saturday was a barbecue to celebrate my friend's ten years in memphis. He and his girlfriend are saints, and i love them. I had some early afternoon to kill beforehand, so I took a friend and a camera to the zoo. She complained the whole time about how sad the animals were to be in such small confines. I tuned her out because she has a nice ass. And how many times can you say, the hippo looks happy on the rock. with a straight face? anyway, they have newly at the zoo a "dino-ride" which kicks much ass. it is a simulator of a jeep ride packed with falling off cliffs and floating in lava. maybe it wasn't a jeep. anyway, my phone fell out of my pocket, and i didn't notice. double plus un-good, i'm afraid. we had left when i noticed it missing. doubling back, i wandered ALL OVER the zoo looking for it. i was tired and late for the barbecue. it sucked. anyway, after ice cream and a bowl, i dropped Valerie off and went home to cook the greatest green bean casserole ever. Then to the party where my friends were just finishing off a bottle of Tequila. what was there to do but go and buy more tequila? and beer and stuff. We went through another fifth and a half of T and the last count of beers was 98. that's a lot. my friend john was probably the least sober i've ever seen him. imagine cameron being careless about his size and the personal space of women. it was close. anyway, the food was freakin awesome, man. lasagna and ribs and chili and brats and burgers and hummus and spinach and green beans and mmmmmmmmjam! and can i say the saint's ex-wife gets four fingers on my finger scale? unfortunatly, i had to drag john somewhere else in the hope that the interval of driving would be long enough for his liver to start functioning again. love you, man. anyway, we wandered out to another party where i ate the rest of the shrimp platter and some snausages. ho hum.
Sunday morning, Teresa cornered me into brunch. Once again, i almost made it to the banana fosters place, but i was too hung over. we ate at Perkins instead. The Perkins gods smiled on me, thanks to all the training i received in college, and i was actually able to speak. and ask insightful, meaningful questions. and i didn't go all gooey or giddy. much. she gave me a present. it's a puzzle box she bought in a small shop in Turkey while looking for a snickers bar. There's a trick to opening it. Hopefully i won't be sucked into hell. God, she looked good- all tanned and smiling, like a goddess granting mercy. I love making her smile.
Then i bought a new phone, arguing with the dude for an hour. Then i drove to my grandfather's in mississippi. We traded jokes (no, not the one about sand) and caught up on old times. There was a very troubling moment of silence when he told me that all of his friends are dead. I honestly failed him there. I should have had something uplifting or distracting or something to say! Luckily my uncle showed up and we moved on to other subjects like (groan) when i'm bringing a girl to the farm to meet him. Like i'm not trying!
Anyway, i drove back to Atlanta last night. I can't understand why, but i was really tired. i even had to stop for a nap! It couldn't have anything to do with that nice relaxing week, could it? oh well, nothing liters of mountain dew and donettes couldn't fix.
that's all. get back to work!!!
--slain |
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Read 3 - Post |
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| denouement |
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| 05:50pm 27/03/2005 |
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i found a fortune cookie that says "Joy comes from a long for gotten friend."
i don't usually find joy in unrequited love, so this should be good....
had the long-expected party last night. got some very nice going away presents. had some very nice chats with some of the coolest people in the world. i was the center of attention. you know i had a good time. i must remember how easy it was to strike the perfect coasting/nursing speed. it was a night of unexpected delights and diversions. the turnout was rewarding, and i felt like all of my friends were represented in some fashion.
then i woke up and sneaked out to brunch by myself and got drunk on mimosas and delicious louisiana cuisine for free. hooray for decadence. i will miss knowing half of the servers in my city.
almost finished cleaning up. where are my roommates?
--slain |
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| impending freedom- the end of a long march |
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| 01:09pm 16/03/2005 |
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well, kids, here it is. my last day at Malco Theaters Inc. is tomorrow. after six long years of full time employment i feel the need to find a new challenge. i seek a new horizon to steer toward, a new course to set. until recently, i've wondered where i will go.
i thought about south america. i would love to immerse myself in a tropical locale, where the girls don't understand a word i say and the drinks are cheap. from there i could realize a life-dream of visiting Antarctica. i want to humbly step onto one of the last clean places on earth, undisturbed by rampant human "progress." before it all melts away. before the penguins die out.
i thought about utah. friends out there live it on the rough out in the wilderness, the very side of a mountain. i, an urbanite, am admittedly soft. i drive everywhere, eat fast food, watch an endless amount of movies. i'm not sure i could cook my meals. i definitely couldn't catch em. these are things i need to work on, i guess.
instead, i'm moving to atlanta to live with my brother. he and his wife are having a child. they have offered me free room and board in exchange for baby-sitting. i save them bucket-loads on day care, and they allow me to go back to school if i so choose.
i suppose that is challenge enough. but right now it seems more difficult to uproot myself. i have many friends here in memphis. they will miss me because i am so cool. or something. but i will miss them more. the totality of my loss is compounded for every friend. it will be challenging to say the least.
anyway. ready? Here we go!
--slain |
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| too late tonight to drag the past out into the light |
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| 06:52pm 03/01/2005 |
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music: the damn unfinished disk!
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can hemorrhage be a transitive verb?
now i understand what cameron goes through, on a very small scale. all i want is to sync up the mp3s to start when i want them, and then burn it onto a spinning disk with a laser. it's the next step on my way to world domination and i don't understand the software i downloaded. but really, i'm just interested in conquering. if i put too much of myself into my ring of power, that's my own fault. but i bet i'll still make a mark.
-slain |
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| the bottle of black |
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| 11:59pm 02/03/2004 |
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tonight i toast the elf with the last of his rum:
my brother from another mother,
may the cup of thy heart be everfull,
may the bottle of thy spirit be eversweet,
may the port of thy mind be everstout.
boat drinks, wayward. the black smiles at you.
and to all sons, vengeful's birthday was the 21st of February. |
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| refrigerator poetry |
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| 01:19am 06/11/2003 |
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weekend coming soon. hump day over already. slept well last few nights. called you. hope everything is preceding as planned. mwa ha hah ha haaaa.
watched 21 grams tonight. i didn't understand it. no one liked it. i assume no one else understood it either. was filmed in memphis and all. was distracted by beer.
sorry to call you so much. will call you just as much tomorrow.
good night.
-righteous |
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| happy returns |
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| 01:34pm 03/11/2003 |
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mood: accomplished music: pink floyd- wish you were here
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seven hours ago i was in new york. i was riding a cab from my friend's apartment to the airport, saying goodbye to the city. i stayed up all night last night saying goodbye, and most of yesterday was saying goodbye, too. it wasn't enough. i want to go back. i want to stay there, to throw this quiet peaceful southern life away and jump headfirst into 25 million people, subways, king-size rats, the atlantic ocean, the really awful smell of chinatown, the irritatingly slow walkers, twenty cups of coffee a day, all-night bars, halloween parades, guys from harlem got my back, la bellas, blistered toes, skyscrapers, stupid gawking tourists, the north lawn, the west, museums that are actually museums- not pink houses with stuff no one bothered to throw away, the upperlowereastwestfiveburoughsislandssoundsriverocean place to get lost in. too short. not enough.
i want to go back.
sleep now. |
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| week to my birthday |
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| 04:34am 14/09/2003 |
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there are fifteen people in my room. it's a week to my birthday and there are fifteen people left from the pre-party party tonight. it was a smoke fest in honor of my friend's seven week fast. i used it to help me morn johnny cash. today i suddenly realized how people could be such devout elvis fans. -how they've kept the king alive. i don't think i've ever stood in those shoes before. that certainly says something about my view of death, doesn't it?
but birth! a birthday in a week. i'm thinking of buying a keg. by "thinking of" i mean "telling everyone i know that i'm...." the only worry is one roommate who is out of town. i'll make it up to him if he cares.
losing coherence in thought.
finish up later.
just spelled-checked my post. it doesn't seem to recognize apostrophes. that seems strange. |
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| dungeon smatterings |
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| 11:11pm 09/06/2003 |
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ogre mage mages
berserker trolls
rogue gnolls
giant assassins
all kidnappers for annis.
love-sick mindflayer
sold by a hag with a green thumb.
almost saved by the trolls.
who is he madder at?
devil-born xorn.
elemental hag witch.
water fuels the gate.
ponds for things to play in.
buy the demon candy
he gives you a home.
he gives you love.
he gives you family. |
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| 04:00am 30/05/2003 |
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Waves, sand, seashells... you are an ocean dweller.
You are thoughtful and very sweet to your
friends, but unforgiving and imposing to those
you think little of.
Which Other World Are You Secretly From?
brought to you by Quizilla
this is the truest i've scored since i determined that i came from the night sky. |
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| irrelevancies |
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| 03:31am 30/05/2003 |
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i've been having weird dreams of late, and it just so happens that sk.44 is starting a game system run on dreams. i may suggest some visions because i've been having them.
i show up at a party. someone asks for me then gets shot in the chest. wake up
being hunted in a church. find a way out as everyone else gets killed. wake up
climbing an apartment building. fall as someone opens a window. wake up....
...wait, that's the evenessence video. nevermind.
happy birthday you cool people, you!
--slain |
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righteousson's journal