I had one of these once... You dont know what you're missing, but im craving the thing tonight.  

   I lied.  Im here now, working on Polyester. (my fourth book Release, see the other three here)  "The Ghost In You" came on my playlist, and it all became too ironic.  So I started going through some material I have that has yet to find a home in the bigger picture of this writing, of this work, and its just all kinda funny to me.

   Initially, I set out to write a handbook, something very different in format and delivery.. but the draft im working on now definitely has all that, except its morphed into a story which represents something very different in the sub plots.. something about secret apartments, and owning multiple Victorian homes, and how to handle Senators and lobbyists that refuse to financially back your projects, and what to do when all the lab rats die, and how to deal with your security teams when their fed up with your shit, when they're tired of guarding your locations, and just what to expect when the price of diesel fuel goes up, and what to do when you have a shipment sitting in one of the garages that needs to go.. Today.  Don't get me wrong, there's still a ton of lament, and death, and sadness, and anger from beyond the grave, and people existing on the other side, and the cities they build in eternity... theres still alot of THAT.  theres still alot of poetic writings about living lovers sleeping at their deceased one's mausoleums, and what it must feel like to watch the procession of your own funeral, and being inferred to a crematorium and all that shit..

its one of those things where its like, this is either going to be received very, very well... Or im just going to look and appear as crazy, -if not more insane than i've ever been.

fuck

two-twenty one

not doing anything Polyester related today.. or the next few days for that matter, but I went to visit my oldest sister.. spent some time talking about some things... shot over to my parent's house, but they weren't home, so I did a little spec ops routine and got into their place, broke out the lawn mower and cut their grass.. Im not sure when the last time was, when it was that my dad cut it, but it couldnt wait.  I decided to mow the lawns while nobody was home, and just take off from there.  Hopped the fence, drove and got on the phone.. Paid my medical bills (debt free, as of today -whoooiiiiee).. returned a very overdue "atlas shrugged".. and now here i am again, back in the library, under very different circumstances.. It already looks different than from the last time I saw it, a few months ago.  I have a new backpack, and I actually have somewhere to go after this.  Im sorry if I cant let the whole homeless experience go, im sorry if I rehash alot of old bullshit, but it was a journey (if you could call it that).. it was spiritual in a way, and its constantly on my mind.. It changed me, and now I'm wearing new clothes, im debt free, and have an apartment to live in.

   Work tomorrow, and I get paid... and although im not interested in working on Polyester right now (im taking a break til march first) I still have it out sitting next to me, here at "my" desk in the Corona Public Library.

Life's good today, and mowing my old lawn, looking at the community I used to live in, I think about how we're all growing, how all of our work is mutating and evolving into much larger statements than we anticipated, and how time and movement has effected our mission, how it's effected what's being said in our paintings, or images, or whatever our medium may be.. im excited for our work, and im excited to see what this new year with all its retrogrades, and rogue planets.. im excited to see what the stars and moon bring us

The Radio Dept. Heaven's On Fire

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hagia_Triada_sarcophagus

aww yeahhh

I am officially entering stage two of three in the whole process of releasing my next title "Polyester Paradigm"

   This is one of two rough drafts in existence.. I plan to read through it for mistakes and plot holes and all that, formatting issues or whatever, and do some artwork in the meantime.. then come out with another draft to complete stage two.  Stage three will be where the craziness/fun begins, and im looking to enter it mid March of this year.  Anyways, for now:  There's a small celebration in my apartment.  I always just go crazy whenever I hold a first physical draft of my work.. I guess it would be like holding a baby before its actually born, and then putting it back into the womb so it can grow another few months before you actually get to take it home as part of your family or whatever... If that makes sense, but anyways (for now) I have to read this a little bit, and get some shut eye because the show must go on.  It was a nice half hour, but thats all it can be.

Blood.  Sweat.  Tears.
Yeah.
Something cheesy like that

nine Eleven

walking passed the chain linked fences, and construction zones... I feel the energy, I feel the pitch black -gaping open, and the tears cried here, the World bleeding... and maybe thirty minutes later, standing inside the building next to it, and looking out the window from a few stories up.. looking down towards the Ground.. I see small groups of workers patching up the buildings and their scaffolds next to it.. The time is midsummer of 2004, and I am in manhattan, new york.  My cousins getting married in central park in the next few days, and my parents decided to drag me along with my ipod and camera.  They decide its alright for me to explore alone, so I bring my phone and somehow end up at Ground Zero.

   I was coming out of my room, back in the second story of my parents house.  I was on the otherside of the hall, and turning my way to the left... heading down the stairs.  My sister, Jamie.. she asks me if I've 'heard anything'... I tell her I havent.. not fully knowing what shes talking about.. She motions for me to the tv that was in the "office" room of the house.. I look at the tv and see smoke coming from a pretty important building.. the World trade center.  Jamie said it had just hit, and they were trying to see if it was an accident or not.. We sat in silence just watching a piece of property, a monument, an achievement just blazing in flames... It was around 7am my time.. I knew this was happening in new york, and even in the car ride to the school that day, my mom had the radio on so we could listen to it as it unfolded, and the planes un-accounted for, and later the one that was crashed in the field... At the time it was too early to apply all the flight numbers to the actual crashes, it was just too early in the day.. and at school one of my teachers explained that its possible to faint when jumping from that high.. something about all the air going through your nose...

   Today im just thinking about that day.. september the 11th, two thousand and one.  It changed my country forever.  And it hurts -just as much today, some decade or so later... it hurts to see the Towers on fire, it hurts to see the people jumping... and as I sit here, I wonder if we've spread enough peace and democracy to reconcile for this day, and the innocent sons and daughters, moms and dads that never came home... I wonder if we've done enough to honor them, and their fallen children.  I wonder if we've helped enough, if we gave enough to their memory

??/

so I keep having people over, and keep making food for them... and using my glassware, and all that shit.  Maybe showing off a little; I dont know... but everytime somebody comes over (anybody, really)... Things get spilled, things ALWAYS get knocked over... Why is that?  What the hell...

my  Roomate is supposed to be getting pizza, but where are they?  

I keep drinking wine,

even though Robert greene thinks im an idiot.  Even though Polyester got rejected twice, I need to fix it, but time is running out and my patience towarsd the FIRST FUCKNIG DRAFT is running thin.  ill try it again, tomorrow.  after I did the traffic school, after I paid the citation, after I pay for the schooling... fine, ill pay in my time.  FINEM,