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This dread night

In here

With a southern shape a shadow
With a light low
Upon a ceiling
To hissing heater
Of quiet
Of creeping
Of dark

the titanic of blogs

 i like feel like my voice here is like authentic and like providingsomething new to the world or whatever but like no one looks at this or like let alone likes it so like is this a shinking ship (this is a portmanteau of sinking and shrinking obv) and am i like cal or something oblivious to the obvious fate of a readerless blogkingofthe world?

only old things start new things

this view is not the
       view i wrote from last and clacks of keys sound deeper here, more resonant.

                         the rope swing out

                         the window blew wildly in

                         the breeze tonight, as if some stranger sat swinging

                                                        as branches danced above and swayed.

                         the lights are dim now.

                         the refrigerator hums a relentless rhythm.

                i should be sleeping, wrapped in sheets but 

                         the night                                                           and 

                         the week ahead 

                                                                                                  and 

                         the dread of another year, 

                                             another endless

                                                          year keep these fingers echoing on 

                                                                  keys.

                i am                             wildly                                  echoing

this                         breeze

                                                                          these          swinging

                               lights           wrapped in

this                         dread

                               night.

raiders of the lost ark

it moves like memory
               like half awake in an edgewater apartment the

bed in a corner next to a radiator
       i wake in a sweat
                          step a few feet to the bathroom
                          skeletons
and 

wrath 

of 

god

1941

i, i did not watch.

the preview looked horrible.

despite blues brothers

close encounters of the third kind

yes we will fly 

yes we will 

       we will fly and 

                         and into the 

                                       the 

                                into the night i 

                                       the 

                                into the deepest 

                                       the 

                                into the last recess of 

yes we will 

      we will fly 

yes we                     into 

yes we 

                   fly 

                                into the 

       we will 

       we will climb 

                         and 

                     climb 

                         and cling 

                         and cling to 

                                       the 

                    fly 

       we will fly 

                         and 

                    fly and fly

jaws

The beanie sits just so.

the denim.

the black turtleneck in relief.

the false tooth and song.

the endless summer.

the the the endless i

have met them at the close of day. a

terrible

       beauty

sugarland express

   I a m   in 

my home here, on 

   the   couch, my chil d 

              in bed. I did 

not walk a la ne 

to get here. 

                         I did not 

drive a d istance. 

           here 

   I a m, 

           here. safe and warm and

duel

I know this road.

I know its scattered shrubs (low and dried), 

            its too close sun, 

            its heat lines lifting.

I know its aching climbs that turn and rise 

                                                       and turn and rise 

and then drop to the valley when the glare is 

                       too much.

I know its fringe of dusty scree, 

            its two-lane claustrophobia 

the fire that burned

the fire that is to come

the lake to the left, poisoned by a mining disaster

the rusted town

      hulking

      collapsing

      flammable

      fixed in time with 

malicious intent.

survivor update

 i know the rhythms now. how the challenge music the afterchallenge interview to commercial foreshadows whats to come. it does not stop me of course.

and of course i consider if i could do it. i think so i think. i think physically at least. because i'd know that they would not let me die. as hard as it gets no one is dying on primetime cbs. my downfall would be speaking to other people. opening up and whatnot. building trust.

when i moved here to california i tried to play in bands with strangers. i found exactly two people i liked to play with but when we tried to expand and get a second guitar player they never worked out. they always complained to the others that i hated them. i guess i did. not as humans of course. just as guitarists. but like that's important right? not having a shitty guitarist in your band?

i did not drive home one night with one of them. we had booked a show in stockton somehow and we sounded great except guitarist 2 of course. but we had taken two cars and i drove back with the drummer and most of the gear. the two guitarists drove back together. guitarist 2, the one who thought i hated him as a person even though i just hated him as a guitarist, was considerably intoxicated and apparently spouting off about how the smashing pumpkins were the shit. the drummer and i got taco bell drive thru. he wanted to use the bathroom but the restaurant part of the taco bell was already closed. so he peed on the door. i would choose this person over guitarist 2 one hundred times out of one hundred.

pee pee door drummer moved to another state. guitarist 1 i think got sick of how many people hated me. i play in a band by myself now.

and i am no longer sure what this has to do with survivor

,like

 i am a writer .which is why i ,like ,do this you know .like there are things that people are ,like ,scared to say or scared to see or ,like ,just ,like scared .like that's true ,right ?like if i weren't here to say ,like ,whatever ...who would say it ?you need to be brave to do this .to ,like ,put yourself out there and be vulnerable like this .it's ,like ,what is the word ?like ,brave i guess .like brave .yeah .i guess i've said that ,but it needs saying .again .i am brave .for this .i .am .brave .

1-2-3

yes we will yes
we will yes we
will
we will
yes we
yes

we

yes we

we will

we will yes

will

we yes we

will yes

we

will we will

yes will we

yes will we

we will yes

we will we will

yes we will yes

we will

we will

yes

ifiadmithtatthismeansnothingdoesitmeanthatthismeanssomething?

i.  am.    in

sta

ing. it. i. am. wi

ll.

i. be.

be. au

st. 

er

it

y. th

ese. why. the.

per

i od 

ic ness. t

he. chop

ped. i 

am

bic. the. re

cent. fil

ler. the. mean

ing

less

ness. lan

guage. the. per

iod

ic

punct

u

a

tion. this. can

not. mean. can

not. be.

ifiadmithtatthismeansnothingdoesitmeanthatthismeanssomething?

George Saunders Appreciation Post

you
youwill be tortured///enddlessly

you will know no hope, only

you r own relentlless existence.

you will not  realize that

you are the butt of jokes-- that

you rtrap is 

 ou r comic relief: stuck on a wall, stuck in a hole

you will never climb out of, that

you are

you r

you are

you

t-h-i-s-w-o-r-d

An I really writing though? Like if I put this here, these words that are the result of fingers moving, which is the result of some electrical trigger that says "type 't-h-i-s-wo-r-d'?" Am I the source of this

On the Television the two men say

That's a guarantee

That's a guarantee

That's a guarantee

back and forth to each other ad nauseam as if they are trying to convince me that this was not in fact a clack resulting from some electric impulse sent from brain to finger to brain to mouth so that I would buy whatever it was they were trying to get me to buy. Did they not realize how insane it was that that some sort of shockwave-in-someone's-folded-and-crinkly-brain-tissue-sent-to-fingers sent to another's-equally insanely-folded-and-crinkly-brain-sent-to-mouth-and-face-and-movements would supersede whatever guarantee was previously promised. Like your deal was more interesting than the formation of language? As if!!!!!!

In other news, I'm not sure if I know where my keys are, oneday some internet nerd will find this blog, etc etc

yesandthen

Yes

and then

I put my head on

 the arm of the couch

Yes

I put

 my head down

 for a moment

I

write a

word in this fake

 journal

I

space

the words just

 so

Yes

and then

I put my head on

 the arm of the couch

and then

I dream of

 carems kissing

of

cranky criminal caressing

Then

I

Yes

I

Then I

am

 the

space 

survivor update

all words are truth, even when typed at odd ours. even when the power went out on the holiday, leaving me a day behind, so tonight kicks and sazerac, spy shows and survivor: the sad kid won, his mother gone now, the cast cries as he says "i can see how this, from an outside"

i am not willing to contemplate my own sad victory, my family sobbing in the audience as i recount those final moments to jeff probst's smiling dimples, throwing to an outdated website on the bottom of the screen, timing his dialogue to hashtags. It approaches, of course, as as all sad ends do. but without the camera there to capture it, who knows if the impact will resonate with the masses? Who knows if, decades from now, some other nitwit will relive my pain from his couch, sipping a cocktail, pretending tonight was last night?

in other news, the 2023 blog streak stands at one, there is a lit city on top of my record player, and this room does not really actually need three carpets though.