Oh Yeah, He Does Music Too.

Dream Journal

Last night I dreamt I had a jar of black flies ( you know, the ones that bite ) and my job was to keep adding flies, but only keep so many alive, while killing the rest. Id open the lid fast and mash my hand in and kill so many and scoop them out then add more live ones.  Apparently my subconscious brain likes to tie math to living shit or something.

I tell Nicos flowered backside how beautiful she is, how sweet she is and how much I need her. Her skin and hair. To make it last, because this is the only time I can say it. Because the moment this is over, we'll hate eachother. The only person we'll hate more than eachother is ourselves. These are the only few moments I can be human, just for these minutes, I don't feel lonely. And riding me up and down, Nico says, ' so when do I get to meet your mom?' And ' never ' I say, ' That's impossible, I mean. ' ...Ask any man about his mom during sex, and you can delay the big blast forever. And Nico says, ' So is she dead now? ' and I say, ' sort of. ' Anymore when i go to visit my mom, I don't even pretend to be myself, hell i don't even pretend to know myself very well, not anymore. My mom, it's like her sole occupation at this point is losing weight. What's left of her is so thin she has to be a puppet.... The next time I go to visit my mom I'm still Fred Hastings, her old public defender, and she keeps me yakking all afternoon. I tell her I'm not married, and she says that's a shame...The next visit I'm still Fred, but married and with 3 children. ' Three is too many, people should stop at two ' she says, the next visit I have two. Every visit there's less and less of her under the blanket, in another way there's less and less of Victor Mancini sitting in the chair next to her bed. The next day I'm myself again, and it's only a few minutes before my mom rings for the nurse to escort me back to the lobby. We sit not talking then she says ' Victor ' she says, ' I need to tell you something....Fred Hastings was here, you remember Fred don't you? These days he has a wife and two perfect children, it was such a pleasure ' my mom says ' to see life work out for such a good person. ' ' I told him to buy land ' my moms says ' they're not making it anymore ' I ask her who she means by they, and she presses the nurse button again

Chuck Palahniuk, Choke

an observation on the sexes by no one, IE me.  Women appear to be small children always, always needing validation, attention, affirmation they are alive via pretty nailpolish and well groomed hair, what have you, however when one is to observe this, they are reprehensible, terrible people, and are surely just sexist. 

Women dont lead the statistics in cutting and bulimia because men demand that of them, thats their own fuckin looney minds at work, and i refuse to be the scapegoat for womens fuckin hysteria, both sexes are damaged, your sex is just damaged in a very vocal fuckin, look at me sort of way...charming.

having written two books prior, both i threw in the trash ( one was well over 200 pages ) i started one the other day that im fairly sure of, and by sure of i mean im sure it needs to be written, not sure that people will read it, but people believe in jesus and 12 step programs, what the fuck do people know?!

We make an idol of our fear and that idol we call God.

Ingmar Bergman

H.R. Giger. No Title, 21B. 1964.

Here’s a really quick Coma White cover I did oh...atleast 10 years ago, I found this accidentally while looking through some old folder.