these days my only dreams are awake, looking out windows on subways. i float from one thought to another. life is hysterial

hello friends, strangers, enemies, cyborgs or computers intelligent enough to process the information that flows through their syntactical ocean of words.. pixels.. smaller than atoms but like what makes up a t.v. if you step back.. you will see it all. it's there.. to all of these and the billions more that could make up this world....who knows, the angels, the anti-Christs, whatever the Scientologist fucks believe in, who knows.. it could all be bullshit or all real so hell to all!

i have another blog where i ramble about things that are somewhat intertwined with punkrocknroll and outsider trash and splash.http://www.t1melesstrash.blogspot.com i also strategically place brief mentioning of my band fried chicken n gasoline http://www.friedchickenngasoline1.bandcamp.com brainwashing style.. like splicing raunchy porn into movies in a theater (you know, tyler durden in fight club even though i'm not a big fan of the book the movie is interesting on drugs or sober..) don't even know what hit you because even though you're watching a movie, maybe, MAYBE 32% of your attention is on the movie.. the rest is on the drugs you either have or want to get. bowels like a sponger being wrung over a filthy sink.. (mind: can i scrape the bag and get a bump of dope to at least take the edge off? can the cigarette filters be crushed enough to get a shot that at least turns brown and TRICKS MY STUPID FUCKING JUNKIE MIND THAT I"M GETTING SOMETIHNG THAT SORTA LOOKS LIKE A SHOT????  ---- big side note.. i don't do "drugs anymore"- I'm on methadone (we'll get into that soon in to be written threads, believe me.. we will get heavily into my opinion on that enigmatic, controversial, almost futile to argue because it truly comes down to the intention of the users.. see i started already.. in good time dear enemies. heed you frothing at the mouth imps of fire.

this is about my life. and about how i don't know anything and i'm scared and i want people to read and let me know if they understand. if they can help. if they have felt what i've felt at some time in their life. if they know the feeling of laying in bed and looking at the clock and seeing it's after 12:00 noon and you wonder what would happen if you just didn't get outta bed. you don't want to but you think you have to... it's a voice that's juxtaposed, loud as book of genesis God and subtle as whispers of welfare hookers in shadows of subway.. it's the voice of my parents, my morals.. "wake up on time and get out and find a job. get outta bed. be a man. be an adult"

i don't know.