Sunday, September 30, 2007

weekend...before wedding-organize music
everything seems...to be dirty or misplaced
your breath is terrible-some bathrooms aren't ventilated...don't stick that on me
alone for a time, nothing seems to exist-honestly nobody is home

sick, I watch a movie with the stand-by comforts-no comfort
no nothing
"Perfume" (murderer), exposition of art as obsession
obsession w/ object-medium
medium-translator of states/changes
I-ching throws pit of blood at me-synchronicity
three strangers throw up at a party
stuck in sand/mud/blood

music-the chords perform what? what is the niche?
the labyrinth chases me around in circles
money thoughts never stop
friends drift away for some reason
for no reason-my apathy which is fear-will it rain today?

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