Flesh
Miscellaneous
Utopia is not a particular peninsula, a political proposition or a plethora of products and possessions. It is the place beyond the fear of death. Where Jesus lived.
I saw my dad in a dream, sitting on the floor, and I hugged him because he had lost his wife.
Then I dreamed of a time or space capsule arriving and the little dusty doll woman inside is dead.....but some of her doll-kitten children are alive. (In the same dream I was a naked superman walking the streets a bit like that terminator type that comes to hunt Arnie and I fly up to the baskets of food kept out of reach by the well-to-do and tip them into the street. I get caught but find a weak point in the barbed wire cage and escape.
I've lost another filling. That's three now. I better go see the dentist...it's getting dangerously sharp in there.
Hannah was cross with me because I made such a noise in the night going for a wee and plugging in the air Ionizer and taking my puffer because I smoked quite a lot doing my song yesterday and three glasses of wine. AND I forgot to get her honey on the shopping list.
Well I'm sorry if this isn't interesting...but then...that's my life and I'm not always inspired.
Oh the cats got to go to the vet this afternoon (Sunday = 40 pounds) cause she scratched an old mite scab or got in a fight and her cheeks gone up like a balloon. Poor thing.
Well I'm going to carry on with my song now. Bye.
Underground pornography was born during the Victorian era when women finally managed to get rid of the penis and seize control of the race.
Jesus was probably the only real man in the history of mankind.
Christianity after him was just the old Baal worship and mother earth cults in disguise. These two have now combined into the deadly brew of modern sexism. Christianity would bless the pagan relics which the old lot continued to worship. Even in South America...they'd take their voodoo relics to the church to be blessed. (Here it was nails, bones and bits of the cross.)
Baal...the golden calf....property....possessions...all in opposition to the teachings of Jesus.....as are the clergy, bishops, priests, popes.......which Jesus said were to be NO LONGER! 'Let everyman be guided by my words' (Your conscience). You know the law now....'let no man call himself Rabbi.' Well didn't the Christians go apeshit after that....even outdoing the Pagans in their zeal.
Marriage? In the Kingdom of Heaven there shall be no marrying or giving in marriage. Non of this hiding behind each others sins. Each man accountable for themselves.
Christianity died with Jesus.
Dressed to kill - cut throat prices - dreamers in the web....... born to die.....sponsored by "Beautiful Lady" soap.
Pale, the sighing charm that haunts his weary heart
For something soft to hold his calloused hands.
She wears her gloves, you might have seen
her nails aren't red without a reason. It's the effort of holding on to practical common sense, otherwise known as unremitting paranoia. Too much reason...not enough...
The communication of emotion is the hardest thing for a man to do.
He'd rather deal with it himself.....however he doesn't know that his wife has to deal with HIM. That's about the worst sentence I've ever written. Just shows what I mean....
Something terrible has happened. A fatal error has occurred somewhere on my computer
deep in C:\ DRIVE><..EXE> htt...dot slashes and dashes land where some poor little digit has been lashed into insensibility and as a result, she(My alter ego) won't show me the song I've been recording for the last four weeks. A masterpiece....
LOST. (Well actually it's still here but the fetching mechanism is bent and I don't know if the Boffins are going to be able to pull this chestnut out of the fire.) I'm not even hoping. Better just make a clean cut an carry on with the next song. But it's very sore.
Funny. Today I thought something wonderful was going to happen - like an unexpected windfall. Well, I did find the leak in the bathroom I suppose but it's hardly any compensation. (the carpet was getting wetter and wetter) I didn't have to call in the plumber though. The Fill pipe in the toilet cistern was squirting onto the flush handle and running out onto the floor very time you pulled the chain.
I just keep remembering the lady who used to paint standing in a river (her paints and brushes on a floating board and palette) And every time she finished a picture she'd just put it in the water and let the river carry it away. That's having.....instead of wanting.
Saturday. The songs gone. gone.
"A file has been corrupted"
Some of the song I can reconstruct, and rerecord the rest.......but it will never be what it was..... It seems that something in me won't let me be a winner. My Dad started it....and now I'm doing it too myself. Some deadly secret enemy that won't let me be happy. I just want to KILL it. I can't live like this. I don't want to.
I can see why some people commit suicide out of desperation and hopelessness.....or why artists would cut off their hands or ears just to spite themselves. If it's a body - mind battle.....which one is the enemy? But I suspect this is a very outdated way of looking at schizophrenia. A file has been corrupted........I just want to scream. The injustice of it all. I just want to kill everyone who ever called me a fool or who mocked me or made jokes about me. I believe this is the only thing we ever struggle against in our lives. Ourselves. What an irony. So if you kill someone else then it's just a case of mistaken identity cause you killed the wrong person.
A file has been corrupted. In a computer it's unfixable....in a person?
I found the file...but I still can't get the song. It's called Dusty Days......and the audio file causing the problem was in the third verse.......
"You say you had a breakdown
something was wrong with the line
all I can tell you is that
you had a good time.
You didn't call me
you didn't leave your name
you didn't see me
but I saw you just the same
the same
dusty days."