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Joe

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THE HANGED MAN [Jan. 8th, 2008|10:16 pm]
Joe
I hate the saying, "You can only go up from here." Or something similar. What you don't realize, you bastards, is that its a fucking bottomless pit. If there is no limit to up, there is no limit to down. Once you start to understand the concept of infinity -- it is very real, you've heard of it, you might even vaguely comprehend it yourself -- the last bits of slippery rock you have to cling to in that vast merciless ocean of all, of ever, is relative. The goddamn Joneses grass is certainly always greener. I feel like I have to turn back to the base things, "What makes me happy?" But it is not enough to simply endure anymore. What is it?
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rotate [Jun. 30th, 2007|06:33 am]
Joe
i have drank
one drink to much
and now drunk
i close my eyes
and feel
the world spin
too fast for me
to comprehend
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(no subject) [Mar. 3rd, 2007|04:57 pm]
Joe
THUD! With a thunderous clap, a large man trips over the rug and falls headlong into the front door. Everyone just stands there for a moment as he lays unconscious. A few people near the back continue to eat and talk, unaware. Micah, at the host stand, watches the whole thing and picks up the phone and dials 911 thinking it much more serious because of the thunder. The man opens his eyes just as Micah hangs up the phone, and stands up. It takes him a moment to figure out what happened as everyone asks him if he is alright. He becomes embarrassed when he realizes everyone is looking at him. Where am I? I am changing downstairs. I just got cut, made a whole ten dollars. I come up to flashing lights dancing on the walls. A fire engine spans the length of the restaurant, taking the whole view to the south. A group of rescuers and paramedics are in a huddle at the front. I order my shift drink, a shot of Bushmills. The shot hits the bottom of my stomach and sits like a little fire. I go out and between the paramedics and the ambulance and on down the street and up the stairs to the bridge and past the junkies shooting in their fucking knuckles, how godawful, and across the bridge to the train and home.
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God knows what the hell [Oct. 25th, 2006|10:43 pm]
Joe
This will seem like a flood of incoherent nonsense. It is. It is not.

Do everything. Experience everything. Everything is nothing and nothing is everything. I say this mostly to myself. Good or bad, it is only good. There is only one way. I believe that it is good. Its relative. Believe me. Believe me not. Whatever. I cannot express how there is only one way. Words are like photographs of thought. They are not real. I can't trust them and either can you. Did you know .999...=1?

Do you like stairs that go up?
Or stairs that go down?
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Someday I'll get back to writing lame things. [May. 18th, 2006|04:32 am]
Joe
Photobucket - Video and Image Hosting

Please keep in touch with me. Myspace? http://www.myspace.com/thesubas
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coffee and cigarettes and milk and cookies [Feb. 27th, 2006|10:19 pm]
Joe
I'm making myself feel bad. So, I keep going to make myself feel worse. What can be done to make this better? Nothing. These goods are damaged and no matter how reworked and fixed it gets, its still flawed. Oh, Elliott Smith, why do you have to be so damned good. Why do I love to do this? Coffee and cigarettes and milk and cookies. She talks to him all the time. I know it. She just doesn't get that it kills me. It will kill us.

Random encounters, that wouldn't be random if given enough time, have twisted things up this past week and I've met Gilly and Dand, who will be my new roommates in our nice house.
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spirit animals [Nov. 15th, 2005|04:24 am]
Joe
Hemingway always makes me feel like less of a man. How can he go around being like that pillar of rock with a gun in his hand, that man of men, and drink absinthe all the time like some goddamned hippie? I wish I was like that. Oh, god how I wish I were.

I'm going on a spirit quest this weekend. My friends and I are going to find our spirit animals. We will open our minds with the help of carefully selected fungi. A part of me is a afraid that I will find that animal to be this man I want to be so bad. I guess I wish I wasn't that man. Oh, but I do.

I'm in a state. I guess I should let sleep drown it for now.
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plans [Jul. 18th, 2005|07:04 pm]
Joe
The heat is a thousand pounds I don't need to carry. It presses me down, my face inches from the pavement, my hands dragging around. I look like a monkey that maybe got into a terrible accident when it flew into the sun. Melting. Maybe.

I ate too many raspberries as I picked them. My hands are still stained. My stomach is still turning.

I am at some sort of stalemate with myself. Life moved all its pieces to match mine, none really trying to break the other. Everything has come down to one thing and what it takes to maintain it. That is pretty easy. But do I want that forever? No. As it stands, life is done with me. Its done moving its pieces. And I'm about ready to violently throw the whole goddamned chess board against the wall.

I need to throw something against the wall.

Give me that.

I want to make movies. I want to build furniture. I want to... to... I think I've narrowed it down.
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My hammock broke and I hurt my elbow. [Jun. 18th, 2005|08:31 am]
Joe
As I set up my Mac Mini in my new apartment, I look at Maya and think that I'm not living my life, but just watching it. I had a dream that the moon had sort of blown up and when it rose in the night sky, it looked like an orange peel. My dad is getting married again. Third time's the charm, right? This means flying back with Maya--thats the plan at least. Which will probably be more surreal than any moment I seem to be watching me live here. Pick me up and set me down somewhere warm. I wanna surf too. So, there's gotta be ocean, damnit. He calls up two goddamn weeks before he's getting hitched. Luckily I just kinda quit my job. Don't ask. I couldn't tell you. Which is why I just printed off fifteen resumes. I actually had two interviews at the Levi's Store. Interesting. I won't get it. I looked like I just got out of bed each time. I'm gonna go get a glass of orange juice now and make a toast to irreversible debt.
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Graduate. [Jun. 4th, 2005|01:54 am]
Joe
Normally I go to bed alone. I will again, but not in my bed. I really don't know what to do with myself most of the time. I can feel some sort of energy inside me, but it hasn't found a way out yet. I see these people and I think, "Oh, yes..." or "Maybe thats it..." But once again, I really don't know. I think my whole being can be desrcibed as "set one notch above average." What do I do anymore? Where do I go for advice? I don't have anyone to tell me some things. I need someone to find me and in me the ability that needs an outlet.
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