Filed under: Uncategorized | Tags: Diary, Dreams, Driving, Instruments, Jim Earl, Monsters, Politics, Washington
..At some point i am driving the whole family, perhaps minus my dad and we pass a cop so I floor it. The cars in front move out of our way and by the time I hit the dip in the road I am thirty five over the limit but the cop didn’t come for us. We took the crest at top speed and had air for almost three seconds before slamming back down into the steeply angled roadway that quickly smooths out into the waking of day….
Thurs May 28, 2009 0929 Early to bed and two to the boards. Some synergistic atavism for which no was grateful except not to be dead…
June 4, 2009 1005 And god forgive him the terror he was to tend to. A dedicated and prodigious…
June 20, 2009 Again a dream in a house. No more in public as when… …is in the house I see through the garden window over the low hedge or wall. He is in a barn and seated at what should be a sawhorse with something wedged for working and instead sits at a big old clavicle-type thing with his fathers little keyboard sat on top. He is gone for a time and then…
June 21, 2009 1211 And a dream this time in my home. Someone had cleaned out my compost receptacle and left in place of discarded peels, skins, and ground, some candy colored niceties whose presence confounded me no end. Also I was for some reason storing a soft cheese in my front right hip pocket for entirely too long.
July 20, 2009 Another day in which madness could be said to have been pre-vialed as a peacock.
Only spurts were left after the great burn out. Juice and gun shots were going to be the kick in the balls that we always needed.
In the early morning, when disaster’d struck and I was otherwise occupied and the immediate realization of the irrelevance of all things clanged as the machine kicked into action, we all kissed our sweet asses goodbye.
The howl of an oil wind clamps down on the lips of the loose. Don’t talk, ever. Don’t give aid. Shoot the document &183;
How has the profession of trouble resulted in this battle of monsters? This caution amongst monsters of other monsters and their strange music. The tiger on the bike can surely play the edge, but can he play the role of the straight man?
It is in everyone’s interest that I be intoxicated. It is my duty to prescribe, with this in mind, when it’s time to get out of line.
“Hey yeah, I hunting, yeah I’m bob, bobbin, man, whatever you say…I never get out.”
What ‘s a better thing: a gun, a bike or a book?
Why would you have to choose?
Wrong, an instrument.
Friday July 24, 2009 1421 You take a dump everywhere you go. That’s how I feel. You take a dump. Everywhere. You. Go
July 25, 2009 2201: Immunity on the shredding, but the whistle was blown; a serious vapor made washington groan; how he did that, I’ll never know.
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Jim Earl 