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the heart pounds
as always
but this time out of rhythm with time
lost and forgotten at home
going to explode through my nose
turn myself to the sweaty covers
stare at the rust growing on me
it eats into the shell
i stand up, i'm dizzy
i'm crumbling away
walking around
walking past myself
clothe myself naked
and then strip
woken up but put to sleep
can't sleep a wink

i speak aloud and travel inside myself searching
i search for life
for a while i stood in place
with hope as my friend i make up some time
i look for a good beginning
but i becomes a disappointment

the heart stops
doesn't move
i insert a pacemaker (which i swallow and hide)
i find a jumper cable (and turn myself on)
see everything double (double back)
system failure (the brain refuses)
i continue my search
uncontrollable (information)
i have to feed (feed myself)
  • Listening to: heart pounding (bamm bamm bamm)
I'm all that empty
A hole burning like the sun
Space is all so clear now
And fate won't come alone

i'm tired
  • Listening to: poison tree
black lung
blur your vision


Now you own the sleepless snatching thin skin seas


saving money mode
  • Listening to: at the base of the giants throat
  • Reading: breakfast of champions
this is the opening sentence to the text, something cryptic or maybe a verse from a poem or lyrics to the song i'm listening to

this is where i express my inability to write, by telling you, the reader, that i am unable to write. i will not apologize.
this is when i write something that makes me think but doesn't really go anywhere.

now i apologize and finish it off with a random suggestion or opinion of a random current event or cultural reference.

and the real thing can be summed up in a simple sentence:
i'm sick.
  • Listening to: whatever is playing
  • Reading: whatever i read
there is still the question why

i was gonna write something here but i got nothing worth reading.
so not gonna. anymore.
  • Listening to: mammoth volume
  • Reading: a lion among men
in 7 days!

ninguém le isto
  • Listening to: mammoth volume
  • Reading: ficciones
  • Watching: QI
  • Eating: cold pizza
  • Drinking: lima & nade…

  • Listening to: grouper
  • Reading: ficciones
false horizon
towing me out
to the place
where the sun goes down

to the place
where this wreck will go down
where the waters make their sound

Tie me up
Try me out
Take this blood
and put it down

to the ground
where the bodies go down


grouper is in new york tonight
that's the closest I'll ever get to it
  • Listening to: grouper
  • Reading: ficciones
kill santa
  • Listening to: grouper
  • Reading: ficciones
sup grandmas, and zappa!
  • Reading: watchmen
fuck you august. again.
  • Listening to: police
  • Reading: three stigmata of palmer eldritch
  • Watching: officer
casa nova woot

e agora caçar a merda do rato.
  • Listening to: recoil - allelujah
  • Reading: hellblazer
  • Watching: reaper
  • Playing: hom&mv:hof
Confusion will be my epitaph.
As I crawl a cracked and broken path
If we make it we can all sit back and laugh.
But I fear tomorrow I'll be crying,
Yes I fear tomorrow I'll be crying.
Yes I fear tomorrow I'll be crying.
  • Listening to: blackmetal
  • Reading: hellblazer
  • Watching: carnivále
  • Playing: kill me
  • Eating: now

  • Listening to: radiohead, aliceinchains, djshadow
  • Reading: drink entire: against the madness of crowds
  • Watching: a olhar po tecto
  • Eating: fruit
Egypt is OK
Wish I wish you were here paris, france
OH HELLO THERE from Russia

Occasionally I still come across one or two good things in the internet, and today as a friend gave me a new song to obsess about, I found "pictures for sad children". It's not a funny comic, not sad either, it's an untold story. Gary and Paul are OK characters, and I wish I could have written that. I probably would have if I wasn't so focused on driving myself crazy first. Where's my Gloria or Sherri Solvig or Melissa Toad or chinese fingertrap or Hagia Sophia or Elijah or Zoroastra or the Messiah or the Buddha. I'm too sober to find it, or to even care about it. I talked with Prof Ramos about the two planes of Parmenides and if anything was worth it. I said even if Sophia was real and showed up, we'd somehow find a way to kill it, just like in the book. And if Hagia Sophia were to be real, and died, and if the dead cat is stupid and was meant to die because he was so fucking stupid, what does that make of Knowledge itself. He said if I was really thinking that much into it, then everything would be pointless anyway.

And then there's Bleed The Freak.
"Name your god and bleed the freak"

Diogo said everything is a wank. People are wank, what they think is wank, feelings are all wank, doing stuff is wank. Wanking is wank. That beer wasn't wank he said.
People are fucking stupid. I could get along with people if everything wasn't so awful.
Cold sunrises in the plains are beautiful enough to keep me going. Like I said to someone then, it was white, then yellow, then orange, then red, then pink, and a bluish sky. The clouds weren't clouds, they were shades in the horizon.
Maybe I need a camera.

"Giving up the ghost" makes me think of a while back when I was in this city just getting lost myself. It was the song I was listening to at the time. Everything went back as it was before then, and a while ago, and I keep running into people. This Summer won't be any different, maybe more Alvinas and more beer, but it's too hot just to think about Castro Verde. Don't wanna go there.

There's a gap in between
there's a gap where we meet
where I end and you begin.

There are people, but I don't know what they want. I get confused. Don't know what they are to me and what I am to them. And every night for the past few months it's been like that.

it's morning out now

or for his LJ with other comix
I think the wedding one is my favourite thing ever now.
  • Listening to: radiohead, aliceinchains, djshadow
  • Reading: drink entire: against the madness of crowds
  • Eating: oranges
The most unfair thing about life is the way it ends. I mean, life is tough. It takes up a lot of your time. What do you get at the end of it? A Death! What's that, a bonus? I think the life cycle is all backwards. You should die first, get it out of the way. Then you live in an old age home. You get kicked out when you're too young, you get a gold watch, you go to work. You work forty years until you're young enough to enjoy your retirement. You do drugs, alcohol, you party, you get ready for high school. You go to grade school, you become a kid, you play, you have no responsibilities, you become a little baby, you go back into the womb, you spend your last nine months floating...

...and you finish off as an orgasm.

- carlin, dead.
  • Listening to: knight three
  • Reading: valis
Its superior part isn't blinding;
Its inferior part isn't obscure.
Barely seen, can't be named
And turns back to what it was without substance.
This is what a shape without shape is called.
This is what is called unclear and grim.
Rise up and you won't see its head;
Follow from behind and you won't see its back.

rough translation from a thing by Lao Tzu in Tao Te Ching


Fat's response:

#1 There is a Spirit here, but two principles reside under him.
#2 The Spirit provides light, and then darkness; in interaction; thus time is created. In the end the Spirit concedes to the light; time ceases and the Spirit is complete.


What we learned from the interaction

1) Those who agree with you are insane.
2) Those who don't agree with you are the ones that hold the power.
  • Listening to: the impossible dream of a math professor
  • Reading: valis
It is hyperreal. It is a universe of simulation, which is something altogether different. And this is so not because Dick speaks specifically of simulacra. SF has always done so, but it has always played upon the double, on artificial replication or imaginary duplication, whereas here the double has disappeared. There is no more double; one is always already in the other world, an other world which is not another, without mirrors or projection or utopias as means for reflection. The simulation is impassable, unsurpassable, checkmated, without exteriority. We can no longer move "through the mirror" to the other side, as we could during the golden age of transcendence.

some guy with a weird name.
  • Reading: valis
Os pensamentos do Cérebero são sentidor por nós como arranjos e novos arranjos - mudanças - no universo físico, mas na verdade é realmente informação e processamento de informação que nós substancializamos: Não podemos ver simplesmente os seus pensamentos como objectos, mas antes como movimento, ou, mais precisamente, como colocação de objectos; como eles se ligam uns aos outros. Mas não podemos entender as configurações do arranjo; podemos extrair a informação que existe nele - isto é, como informação, que é o que ele é. A ligação e a religião dos objectos pelo Cérebro
é na verdade uma linguagem, mas não uma linguagem como a nossa (porque se dirige a si propria e não a alguém ou alguma coisa fora de si propria).
  • Reading: valis
I rest my head on stone
Counting stars until I lose my way
Wondering how far and near I've been
And next to nothing I am

Just to rest in peace once again
Seems like a simple thing
All of these mysteries I'm swiming in
Whoah - nothin

And I look to the right
Only to see what is there
My trembling hand reachin again
For the door again
Only to find it openin from within

Within this place I'm in
I watch and listen
Learning the subtleties of whats been
And been taken
What I've got to give
Cannot be stolen
No matter how many illusions be thrown

A book of words and a poem today
My heart broken and healed again
Neither a drowning victim
Nor a Saint Samaritan
I know my integrity
May haunt
Haunt them all
Again and again

And I look to the right
Only to see what is there
My trembling hand reachin for the door again
Only to find it openin from within
From within

I rest my head upon a flower bed
One ear gently to the ground
Listening - Voices - Distant
Far off murmurs of sweet angels singing


"[...]um dos primeiros sintomas de psicose é o de que a pessoa sente talvez que se está a tornar psicótica. É outra armadilha chinesa. Não se pode pensar nisso sem se tornar parte disso. Pensando na loucura XXXXXXX escorregou por degraus até à loucura.
Desejaria tê-lo ajudado."
  • Listening to: KMBT radio - Return to Zero hosted by Scott K
  • Reading: achewood by chris onstad, valis by philip kd
  • Watching: mind game
  • Playing: WoW, dota