1.2 ???

breathe...
this is an excellent pill when you ignore the not so nice parts...it might be just what i need. goofy smile. pleasant. everything is pleasant. and just the right song to go with this...mood.
breathe...breathe in the air. i recommend that every living creature present on this planet whether deaf or not...should listen to "breathe"...by pink floyd...from "the dark side of the moon." gilmour sings like gilmour. zoloft.
so many words are swimming in a bowl of soup. glancing back at the situation i realised that i should've leant in...saw a spiral of smoke....the widest one i've ever seen. can you feel your head being swallowed by the blackhole right behind you? do you know that that's a fancy way of asking if you've got your head in your ass...but it's true...there is a blackhole right behind me...and i can feel myself gradually running the course. bought a guitar to punish your ma...
i woke up many times today...the last time was the best...insignificant traces of dreams forgotten swimming with words in a bowl of soup that should never have been stirred in the first place. don't be afraid to care. when i read the word "permanent" it scares the shit out of me. congratulations mister X you are only a few steps away from becoming a permanent member of our great organization. everytime i read this...i hesitate and then i just refuse to submit the forms...why can't they just say...congratulations mister X you're only a few steps away from becoming a member of our great organization for as long as you feel like it and then you can leave for a nicer, cushier, machine gun hand.
my head is being sucked in by the blackhole in my chest. hahaha...this is good fun. the doc says that in a month all my insane fears will disappear...i don't agree...i don't believe...
leave...don't leave me.
twisted little tune of mine...i'm gonna let you shine...let it shine...
insane fears are large dogs beneath your bed. but this one isn't mine. i'm afraid of the moon.
i used to love the moon. now i can feel it watching me when i step out at night. miserable beautiful wretch. it's too big. it's amazing how little things from the past have come back to haunt me and the doc.
4 days for her...three years and counting for martin pale. in a dream i asked God why He didn't give me everything. You were given everything except the knowledge that you were given everything. and i marvelled at the logic of God. how many times will you repeat that to yourself?? how many people get the satisfaction of talking to God??? triumphant? is it because of your emotional problems?? are you haunted by a silly past that swims around in your bowl of soup, manifesting itself in your words and dreams?? well then you shouldn't have stirred it in the first place. somebody just reached out...go on...touch them on the forehead and speak your truth. the judgement will come eventually...
it would amuse you to remember that it was your unwitting squealer who reached out...and for some reason, you refused to touch him on the forehead...hahahahha...but you always speak the truth...and judgement will come eventually.
one of the oldest "bad" habits i have is of talking to myself...i am the single most undesirable.
look around choose your own ground.
i am tired of contemporary/melodic death metal...i now prefer the oldies...bathory...judas priest...blah blooh...but there's always room for pink floyd...because there's always room for a bit of honesty. when you've been messing with your head for a while days and the concept of time becomes pointless...if you want to think that the least time you did something was years ago...then it was years ago...because it feels like years ago...i can't explain this...and i'm in a hurry.
all you touch and all you see
is all your life will ever be...
i rarely come across honest people nowadays...everybody seems to have a hidden agenda which isn't really hidden...it's hanging out of their pockets and it's covered with all sorts of gawdy crap that makes it even more obvious...and you can't point it out...you can't say, "oye bastard i see what you're upto...it's very transparent to me...and if i ever see you coming back here where i breathe...i will end you." no you can't say that...
you can't stand in the middle of this one road in lums and shout, "you pointless lying sons of bitches...try harder...you're still not cool enough...try harder." you just can't do that...what you CAN do is...walk around with the satisfaction of the knowledge that among all these very brightly packaged helpless souls...the only one who is actually comfortable in his stinking skin...is the boy who hasn't bathed in a month...hasn't had a hair cut in six...is wearing mascara for no other reason than to amuse himself and is chewing on a paperclip...wearing dirty clothes that used to belong to somebody else...clothes that used to be "in" about ten years ago...the crownless king of the book of words and i...we don't have to try...we reek of greatness...the stench of maddening superiority hangs about us...we are the shameless heirs to a throne that was lost in the muddle when nothing happened. i have seen people look at us...i have seen people turn their heads...i have noticed that it has meant nothing to either of us...he will articulate my thoughts and i will illustrate his articulation. how gay is that? fear us for we are boys.
when at last the work is done
can't sit down it's time to dig another one.

begotten by a son of man
sometimes i wonder if i can
lose myself in thoughts i made
in shallow marshes where i wade

now and then my steps do falter
and free will fades, my course is altered
leaving behind the path i chose
wondering where this new one goes

i close my eyes, sit back, indulge
in all those secrets i can't divulge
then close the book i wrote alone
a day in the life of a voiceless drone.

sadly i've kind of forgotten a lot of stuff...tired of all the bullshit...the answers are not compiled at the end of this book...the answers are in all the pages. quite clearly written...you don't like the answers and therefore pretend that you received the wrong book...everybody got the same one...you just decided to call your book a chair instead.
i had a dream about this large goopy brain...we were trying to stick it inside a head...for some reason...probably curiosity...i bit into it...it was gross...but tasted kind of sweet...blandish sweet if that is possible...there were five eggs attatched to this brain...one did not belong with this brain...it was all hard and brownish...the other four were soft...white...in little plastic bags...i spat the bits of brain out...didn't want to swallow it...i've forgotten nearly everything that could've made this sensible...i seriously doubt if anything could've done that...