Lazy Sunday Rant

Fact is, I don't feel so good. Me dio la madre de todas las gripes. Anyhow. I watched this movie about four suicides last night. Really freaky stuff, because the last suicide is a 12 year old kid that jumps off his rooftop. A Skato from L.A. jumping off the rooftop because his daddy broke his skateboard.

Sure, I tried suicide a few times. Heidelberg was once. I was gonna jump off the Schloss. Then there was the E Entertainment building. I guess jumping off buildings would be my way to go. If I failed, I would have to fly.

Maybe I didn't fail. That's been one of my persistent fantasies: I killed myself back in ... was was it? 90? 92? Anyhow.. Everything else is just like me in Hell but a freaky kinda hell where you can have just enough fun to think you are alive. That would make all my family and friends fiendish demons who are here just to torment me, but only enough so I can't figure out it's really hell.

Of course, the opposite could be true. Maybe this is heaven and all my family and friends are just angels trying to make me remember to wake up. I suppose there is a part of me that doesn't think for a second that he deserves 'heaven'. That would be the part that get's his ass licked by demons whenever he has a bad thought.

But the real truth is that I'm just probably fucking nuts and none of these things are real, they are just my 'version' of reality. But hey, the excercise of this blog is to be totally transparent with my thoughts. To be ... invisible by being totally visible. Skin-out-skin-in...

Writers write.

So... The planet is Uranus. I like the name. Your Anus. It's not MY anus, mind you, it's YOUR anus. Has to be somebody's anus. Who the fuck are scientists to tell us there is no life in that big old blue planet? Just because it's a sea of ammonia don't mean it's not full of ammonia-fish!

My right eye is all fucked up. It's blurry and I can't see much out of it with or without glasses. I need to go see a real optometrist. Could have something to do with the fact that I'm always squinting to see the sun with it. Yeah, I've probably burnt my retina or something. Of course, if I were a totally 'spirit creature' I would need no retina. Flesh sucks.

So, the exact experiment here,with this here blog, is to hide nothing from myself. Consequently, I won't hide anything form anybody. Anybody can look at this and say: wow! He didn't hide shit. The trouble now, is to find out what I don't know that I am hidding from myself.

For instance, I've just confessed that I 'feel the devils' tounge' up my ass when I have bad thoughts. Now, surely there's perfectly good scientific reasons for it. Undoubtedly, there is psychological reasons. Psycho-somatic effects of this kind are probably common in mankind. But the bottom line is that talking about something like feeling a spirit tounge up one's ass is not ... easy. I bet it's not too common either. I bet folks hide shit like that all the time from other folks. So an entire area of psychosomatic study is not studied because folks hide that the devil licks their ass when they think bad thoughts.

On the other hand, if it's hidden, it can't be cured. This is the Doctor House reflex in me. I don't care what folks think about it. I care about what I must do to change it if it bothers me.

Folks freak out about the shittiest stuff.

Me?

I freak out about love.

It's 11.11.