My hold won't hold. Like I take a pen right? And I work it on a piece of paper. Nothing. The ink won't hold, my hand won't hold, the words slide away and off the page.
Thursday, May 8, 2014
Wednesday, October 30, 2013
We know notprecisely what were Master Horner's trials; but we have heard of asharp dispute between geile fickfilme the inspectors whether a-n-g-e-l spelt angle or angel.We have found some dreams that wereplainly wish-fulfillments; andfrauen beim ficken others in which wish-fulfillment couldnot be recognized, and was frequently concealed by every availablemeans.Iran from her presence, and shouted, and leaped with joy, and sat thewhole night through, thrilled into happiness by the thought of herlove and loveliness, like a wind-harp, tightly strung, and frauen erotic answeringthe airiest sigh of the breeze with music.All the same, it would gratis sexkontakt be an error to see in the dream facade nothingbut the misunderstood and somewhat arbitrary elaboration of the dreamcarried out at the instance of our psychical life.
But can you not divide the evening, by ritalin passing a part of it with her and then finishing with me? At this suggestion the eyes of the young people sparkled, for they had become delighted with Mrs.. They stole glances effexor at the clock on the mantel.. 1, vainly: Very well, thank you; and you? I think I amoxicillin must have been undone already.. The first part of the dream was a fairly carisoprodol evident birth phantasy.. I watched the grace, the ardor, the glory of augmentindevotion.. He had made an early start that day, and for hours he stood in the quinine sun awaiting relief.. This is anambien abominable--desecration.. Having become an orphan at an early age, the girl had thyroid been brought up in the house of a much older sister, and had met among the friends and visitors who came to the house, a man who made a lasting impression upon her heart.. But its further progress is now checked through the dormant state of yasmin the foreconscious; this system has apparently protected itself against invasion by diminishing its excitements.. At otherthyroid times the dream expresses the realization of the desire somewhat indirectly; some connection, some sequel must be known--the first step towards recognizing the desire.. ] It had been thyroid a day of triumph for Colonel Starbottle.. Prominent among his achievements on that line was getting married to a woman clonazepam who, among other excellent gifts, had that of being twice as big as her husband.. V SEX IN DREAMS atacand The more one is occupied with the solution of dreams, the more willing one must become to acknowledge that the majority of the dreams of adults treat of sexual material and give expression to erotic wishes.. He reflected with satisfaction that there were two Claiborne girls, and though Alicia was so stiff and prim that no boy would ever think of calling on her, there was still the hope hydrocodone that she might draw Ross's fire, and leave him, Abner, to make the numerous remarks he had stored up in his mind from Hints and Helps to Young Men in Social and Business Relations to Champe alone.. Also the memorythyroid of the whiteness and slipperiness of his collar oppressed him...
Thursday, October 3, 2013
MY COUSIN RICHARD TEXTS ME THE SERIES FINALE OF BREAKING BAD
A few weeks ago I entertained the idea of jumping on the wagon - riding out the wave - feeling what the people were feeling. Breaking Bad was ending and something about the show had not lost steam as I had hoped. From the scraps of television I was able to piece together I could see that maybe Breaking Bad was actually a significant cultural myth. But it was far too late. I briefly entertained a fanciful marathon-watching of the entire 5 seasons. Following is a script wherein my cousin Richard texts me the entirety of the Breaking Bad finale. I consider my cousin Richard's 25-page text message a cultural broadcast twice removed (first from the visual show itself and secondly it's enrapt audience) and so believe this to be (momentarily half-digested) FERTILE CULTURAL GROUNDWORK. I present here a loophole victory exemplifying a kind of offline free cultural pirating. Richard's use of oral tradition (albeit in script) to pass on to me pertinent cultural information is a true gesture of cosmopolitanism to ensure my 'survivability' in modern discourse.
(needless to say, there are spoilers. . . )
Richard: So you want me to tell you what happened?
Richard: Well, as you may know, Walt's bro-in-law figured out Walt is "Heisenberg"( Walt's drug dealer alter ego). Hank tricks Walt into showing him where Walt stashed his 60 million in the middle of desert. Walt calls for back up but then calls it off when he decides he should just turn himself on. Too late his hit-men gang come anyway, and kill Hank despite Walt pleading not to. Yadda yadda yadda, he rushes home, tries to get his family to pack their shit and get the hell out of town. But when he tells them that hank has been murdered, the family has enough. The wife tries to stab Walt. His loyal son who looked up to him?, turns on him when Walt and his mom get into a scuffle by calling the cops and telling him that he may killed somebody. So Walt runs out leaving his family behind.
Israel: Oh my god isn't that woman like so hated in television right now? like what a downer she is - the whole series she goes disapproving of walt and finally blowsup
Richard: Well she was kind of a downer even before she knew he was cooking. Like she dealt with depression and shit. HOWEVER, after finding out what her husband did/is doing, she did have his back pretty much until that point, covering for him and all that jazz.
Israel: Is That how it ends? walt gets off easy?
Richard: Before I tell you, what would YOOOOOU have wanted to have happened to Walt?
Israel: Ok - he gets cornered somewhere so he smokes meth and kills everyone and then buries his eyes in the desert
Richard: Lol. You are bent on him smoking his own stuff. You'll be happy to know, he never smoked meth, he's only the brains behind the recipe.
Richard: Ok, last episode: Walt ends up paying thousands of dollars for some guy to hide him in the middle of nowhere USA. Walt is getting sicker and sicker, weaker and weaker due to his cancer. After a month or so of being in seclusion, decides he will go back one more time and tie up all his loose ends. First, he wants to find a way to leave around 10 million bucks to his family (which is obviously hard, cuz the FBI is watching the family real closely). So his first order of things, he goes to his old ex gf's mansion (who is filthy rich after she continued her and Walt's chemistry research and opened up a pharmaceutical company with her now husband.) Anyway, Walt tells them to "donate" this money of his to his family on "their behalf", as to avoid suspicion from the Feds (they recently donated 28 million dollars to drug rehabs so that's where Walt's angle/idea came from).
Richard: Second order of things, he crashes a meeting between the corporate big wig who used to supply the methyl-amine to him. she was there with one of the guys who killed hank/stole his money/stole his recipe and currently taking over his business. Walt tells them he's got a NEW recipe that would make the meth even more potent. The big wig entertains his idea, but after he leaves, she tells her new partner she has no intention. (Later you find out Walt knows no such recipe, but used that meeting to poison the big wig, putting ricin into the sugar packets she obsessively uses throughout the series. She later gets flu like symptoms and Walt calls her a day later and let's her know she's going to be dying soon.)
Richard: 3rd order of things, he goes sees his wife one last time. Tells her he's sorry for everything. And finally admits to her and to himself out loud that cooking meth wasn't about his looking out for the future well being of his family after he passes away. But rather, he simply "liked doing it". It made him feel alive. And he was good at it.
Israel: OH MY GOD THAT IS SO FUCKED
Richard: What part? Lol
Israel: The poisoning part - so killer - i'm the kind of watcher that can't get spoiled even by spoilers.
Richard: Yeah I know. I think they did that so you don't start feeling for him. Like, leave having noooo sympathy for him. that even till the end, wants you to feel he has changed for the bad and will never be able to go back to who he used to be before his dealing days.
Richard: LAST order of things, he's coming after the guys who stole his money! (I mean for christs sake, he had 7 55 gallon barrels hidden, totaling 60 million that they stole from him immediately after they killed his bro in law.) You see Walt building this pulley-battery machine-erector set that is connected to his machine gun (the one you saw in that flashfoward at the diner?) He riggs it to a car alarm remote. Drives to see the guys on their secluded property at night. they dont like that he's back from hiding, fearing he's a threat. They want to kill him. And it looks like its going to happen. But right before they are going to, Walt angrily says that they lied to him and went into business with Walt's partner Jessie, instead of killing him liked they promised. Pissed at being called a liar, the head hancho calls for Jessie who they have chained up as a slave in a basement cooking for them, beating the shit out of him daily for a month now. Bad guy says "See?! Does it look like we are business partners?" Right then, Jessie and Walt look at each other, and Walt attacks Jessie throwing him to the floor furiously. Walt then pushes the button on his remote, the car parked outside rear hood pops open, and the machine gun starts to shoot into the building left to right, over and over, killing EVERYONE. Walt being on top of Jessie protecting him, takes a stray bullet to the side. Walt asks Jessie (since he put Jessie through A LOT of shit) to kill him and end it, if Jessie wants. Jessie thinks about it, but decides not to. Jessie jumps into his car and speeds off like the luckiest son of a bitch ever to be free and alive from 5 seasons worth of mental/physical torture. Walt walks around the property pensively, finds the barn where the new guys were cooking the meth and reflects on everything while looking at all the hoses and tanks and meters. He then pauses, catches his reflection in one of the tanks, another pause, and keels over. He dies. Police show up seconds later guns drawn.
Israel: FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK OH FUUVUCK
Israel: That was WAY better Than anything i imagined and oh my GOD - was that a wikipedia article SON - WAS THAT WIKI
Richard: No, that was RICHI lol. I wrote one long ass text, but decided to cut it into parts to build suspense for ya haha
Israel: THAT WAS CINEMA. TO ME THAT CINEMA. I'M EVEN WATCHING ANOTHER MOVIE RIGHT NOW.
Richard: I know!!! I felt emotionally drained after it was over. Like, literally felt I had just ran a marathon lol
Wednesday, December 12, 2012
13 YEARS OLD AND IN THE 7TH GRADE
The exact moment in which the Internet finally begins to speak I am there, listening. I am standing there with my hand on it. Next to the computer, it is mine.
The moment that the Internet begins to speak I am there because I am the first one speaking. I am entering, I am deleting, I am browsing through the secret and it's only 1997.
I am standing in the hallway of my parent's house.
The secret says GO OUTSIDE.
In 1997 strange television shows began appearing suddenly on television. My brother and I watched them alone because they only came on when no one else was home. The strange television shows would show animals that were like people that were like animals. The shows were always very calm like nothing was very wrong but then someone would begin weeping. The other animals would begin to weep and then everyone would hide and wait somewhere else, hidden like a camera, somewhere down a hallway, next to the computer.
(By 1997 nobody knew just how depressed the PBS programming staff had become. A caveat arrived from Human Resources stating complaints that the Programming Staff only sat around shivering. The Programming Staff had been radically damaged by the Internet.)
My parent's house did not have a hallway. It was the only house where each room led to every other room. When you walked in there was the living room and then the kitchen and then my room. There was no hallway because we did not have a computer. It was 1997 and we still did not have the Internet. I had saved up a pile of AOL disks. 500 minutes of browsing through the secret. But we couldn't even afford a hallway. And so we stayed up to watch the strange television shows on PBS instead.
What the secret says that's what I do. And when it begins to speak to me it says, GO OUTSIDE.
I obey -- there is the sun. There is the dog, there is the grass.
There is no Internet.
There was no hallway to take us to it and my brother and I could sense a paralysis of the modern.
There was an urge with no name. The urge was something like the need to click on something. Or to enlargen some kind of an image. We could feel it even on the useless acreage where we lived. Our dogs kept dying. The television shows got stranger. Finally, we left the house after a television talk show host gunned down his entire studio audience.
It was the end of an old secret.
joel tells me his best friend died last year
and that his brother had killed him
outside of a bar
in an argument
in an argument
israel likes to sleep
he likes good dreams
in the morning he is purest
the sounds already carry him away