180105

I dont know what to do when Im not at work — took my first abilify today, about an hour ago in the parking lot. I’d just woken up to the car getting very warm (Were it not hot & stuffy and I had not to pee i would have stayed) / I dont feel any different yet, but its supposed to take some time anyway /

My rage toward the white tragedy that is this society seems to be in an abated state, a sort of sad ambivalence, yes.

I guess it’s very telling that the very first thought i had when i extracted the bottle from the bag was to o.d. — the fact that i first saw just another avenue toward ending this present incarnation

Dream: hiding under some table in a semi-mansion type house-seems like an old pink panther move — Im some kind of ninja or somesuch; that is my job, to stalk this old white guy — but he spots me (I have a partner, a twin, somewhere else in the house or room)

‘Kill’ and ‘sin’ arent synonymous.

 

Lust has killed me,
it killed me, way back when
I was a teen, and i was killed
Since then its mostly been
the absorption of information

Write, write – yeah yeah
Gonna be late for pizza today

Part of me wants to be fired.
with the regular rote it will never happen
I’m too nice(?)
Thinking abt Andy;

how did you do that, Andy?
You changed the game. the world was yours. you received a bullet to the trunk and lived – and you lived. how did you do that, Andy? wear shades behind your shades;
even Krishna and all his clan fell beneath their own weight

Dead by one’s own doing, sans machination, yet by the path of beauty

Ken, when you see Andy, please ask him for me how he did that thing, then come relay what he says in my dreams

that dream must end

In La
the rush never ends:
The spending goes on

The Brown snuffed
out
land
ish

The white dream
belongs underwater
or in ashes;

Echo park in embers
Silverlake smouldering cinders

all those fearful micro-smiles
    just piles on the ground,
unrecognizable to the dollar,
    freed from their own
    self-induced bondage

The White Dream must end.