Tuesday, July 12, 2005

Chained is how I feel. Chained to a life that is not serving my purpose. I know what and where I am supposed to be going in life. (Yes that IS in fact what I tell myself.) But, most of the time it feels like there's nothing but road blocks.

I'm writing this between stapling endless 'shift' packettes. I've thus far stapled 60 packettes at 4 pages for one and 5 for the other. That's something like 390 sheets of paper and some 240 to go. I can feel a good many papercuts criss crossing the already dry skin of my fingers.

I had a mental image of my skin peeling away and dripping blood and tissue to reveal not finger bones but, clawed things.

I've got such pleasant day dreams.

Anyhow. I have a few little things for people I want to mail out but haven't had the energy to actually get it done.

I'm currently reading Confessions of an English Opium Eater and other writings. The copy I have is out of print. A beautiful old thing with yellowed pages and a spine that is still tight and intact.

I just finished reading Stranger than Fiction: True Stories by Chuck Palahniuk. After you read the book the cover art seems very very creepy. That was very good. I really enjoy his prose. I might read it again given that my reading has reached crack habit proportions.

An example: I was very nearly late for work yesterday because I was at one of my favorite book stores, Twice Sold Tales perusing old Stephen King paperbacks for editions that caught my eye and petting a big fat gray striped kitty when I just glanced at the clock and had that, 'OH SHIT' moment and went scurrying out of the store. Damn near left my bag too.

I saw at least four books I really want but they are all over ten dollars so none of that. At least not from there I have them written down and will peruse the net for cheaper editions.

I've got 'Paint it Black' as done by Johnny Lang going through my head. Probably because my nails are currently a very shiny black any hot rodder would be proud to see on his car. I think tonight I'm going to add red glitter just because.

I've begun seriously considering putting together a poetry chap book. Although I know full well that poetry isn't a hugely buyable thing I think I'd like to have it.

Anyhow I've been pecking at this between papercuts and staples long enough. More later perhaps.

And I'll leave you with one of my favorite movie quotes:

"Holy hell, is that monkey waving at us? Oh shit. It understood us. Maybe it's some kind of super monkey. What if there's more supermonkeys up at that lab? WHAT IF THEY'RE CREATING AN ARMY OF THEM? Holy shit. It must be a conspiracy like in the X-Files... ROSWELL style. This little monkey could be the fuckin' damn dirty ape responsible for the fall of the human race. In this world gone mad, we won't spank the monkey- the monkey will spank us. And after the fall of man, these monkey fucks'll start wearing our clothes and rebuilding the world in their image. OH and only those as super smart as me will be left alive to bitterly cry - YOU MANIACS! DAMN YOUS! Goddamn yous all to hell! "
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