しらけさだい。

this morning i had to do laundry. the washer did not work and ate my only quarters, and on my way out of the laundry room the metal door cut my foot open and i bled all over. and somehow, even though i put two bandaids on my wound and there is no blood visibly seeping through them, my sock is now soaked in blood. this is my only clean sock for now. fortunately i was able to ride my bike in ripped sweatpants to the gas station to get more quarters.
so i am sort of in a bad mood a little bit.

the men on the roof are killing the rats i just last night realized are the source of the scurrying and scratching in the middle of the night. i had no say in their demise and will have even less of an opinion, even though their fur is jet black and their whiskers move fast. when the men put the ladder up against the ledge above my window i was dreaming i was incarcerated and the photo they took of my cellmates and i was 11' x 14', matte, and in stunning color. i was being released and my cellmate allowed me to keep it because it meant much more to me. as i approached the exit gate there was a fountain and indecision about what to do next. i remember animosity, but it didn't last long because of the sounds of the ladder. i don't know why i was in jail, i haven't done anything to warrant, literally warrant, removal from society in at least three weeks. a joke.

i keep having vibrant, strong-feeling dreams, probably in the absence of any real vacation. at least there is coffee.

i am paralyzed by a fear of mediocrity so i don't make anything, which is bullshit, because people make shittycrap all the time without shame, regard, or remorse.

well i dont know

well all right. so these days i am constantly envisioning a symphony orchestral cover of Rhythm Is A Dancer. i've mapped out where i want the strings and percussion, and for female vocals i want a gospel choir. i still havent worked out male vocs or the multimedia presentation that will serve as the backdrop. also it is still a question whether i want to mix in some synth sounds in there or keep it entirely symphonic. i admit my aim with this production is in part to earn a Stranger Genius Award, so that cocktails and subjective newspaper notoriety will be mine for only the low cost of conducting an orchestra, a gospel choir, and acquiring a concert hall.

other plans: an esoteric concept lounge, too cleverly titled Color Bar. also an elevator that runs on patience, and a holographic elephant that can be projected in any room at any time anywhere via remote viewing.

i read somewhere that chihuahuas are being abandoned in california and i think maybe proceeds of this event will go to their rescue.

my goals are lofty and my passion is a tunnel vision, but one of these days i swear