Moralless
Well,
More or less.

Week One

That makes as much sense as a sugar-free pixie stick,
Or blowing a rape whistle at a rave party.

Religion of Islam is my favorite class so far. I don't have any science classes, hmm.

College has been, ultimate and ultimate frisbee, and going to Flandrau observatory of cloudy monsoon nights to talk to the operators about their lives and to look at Jupiter and M13 and M57 and Albireo.

I went to Himmel park and had a Reese's peanut-butter cup waffle cone and I was sitting on the side of a small hill and I could see the Tucson mountains and they had clouds and rain drifting in front of them with lightning strikes illuminating my eyes and ears.

Every night since I got here I've been going out to The Mall at night looking for ultimate frisbee and every night I've found it. Are strips of grassland usually called The Mall? There was one night that it was still raining and wet and windy from the monsoons that it was almost impossible to play any credible game of ultimate.

I've been showering without a towel because I didn't want to check any bags so I just use my hands to wipe off the water and then shake my hands dry and repeat until all of me isn't soaking, then I go outside and let the air suck all the moisture from me. I brought clothes and a little paperwork; my roommate brought a microwave, an xbox 360, and a 40in plasma.

I willingly went outside into the thunder and lighting and the streets were seriously flowing with water and I went and got a good humor bar which is the only thing that I have bought since being here and it was 79 cents without the income tax and I ate it while galloping through Rio 2nd street. Oregon doesn't have a sales tax.

Jaybird is really cool but she's not the reason that I am here, none of them are my purpose. Whitney DeVos is the best English teacher I've ever had.

I'm going to volunteer at the Flandrau observatory and operate the telescope, shit's so cash.

I've never been so regular in my hydration, I stop at the drinking fountain right outside my dorm room and suck it dry whenever I pass it.

"So what kind of music do you listen to?" Well, I listen to whatever is good, no particular genre. No country, though. Can't do country. "What's like, you're favorite band?" Oh, well I don't really have a favorite band either, kind of. I'd have to say that up towards the top of my list are The Arcade Fire, The Doors, Sigur Ros, Massive Attack, Radiohead and I'm finally getting into the Pixies after watching Fight Club, and other stuff. "Yeah, Disturbed is my favorite band." Cool.

I don't know...

That was the sweetest flight attendant.

Good Luck Joseph

You Are The Sunshine Of My Love.
Dear Joseph,
We love you sometimes... if sometimes were all the time!
We know you'll do GREAT THINGS!
Wear sunscreen!
Sincerely,
The Breakfast Club

Pics soon.

I don't understand how you can be distracted from thinking about it. Just think about it for half a second, that's it, you're hooked. What are they supposed to do? JESUS CHRIST! LIFE IS SO FUCKED UP! I DON'T KNOW ANY OTHER WAY TO PUT IT! It's really that simple. What is all this? Some people get shit but the rest of the world still goes about being productive. That is so wrong. The poor thing, the poor poor thing. She's so close to death and she is so so scared. What has this life been? It ruptures my heart when I imagine what her thoughts must be. There are so many others out there going through the same thing. I can't be the only one that feels the urgent need to provide personal care and comfort for someone who is in hell already. The human concepts of hell are nothing compared to reality. Poor, poor thing. What can I do? I am so utterly sorry. Jesus' sacrifice on the cross should not seem miraculous to anyone. WHO WOULDN'T GIVE THEIR LIFE WILLINGLY TO END ALL SUFFERING? I would in a heart beat. Too bad that it wouldn't solve a thing. Sometimes still, I revert back and try to talk to God for some sliver of neo-lithic comfort; soon after, it dissipates, and I'm left again with this outrageous existence. It really is outrageous, you know? And I know that so many other people have said the exact same thing I have, and in a much more elaborate and romantic design, but people really need to fucking pay attention to this shit. The language is necessary. It's an interesting perpetual cycle. Because the World demands your productivity, you become productive. You then become part of the World, which for some unknown, vague, idealogical reason, demands your productivity and adds unnecessary pressure onto those who are yet to become productive through differing mediums such as money, social procedures which are acted upon through formed environmental habit, and other such things that have been invented ENTIRELY to distract us from questioning the ideology. Is this cliche? Is this just Pink Floyd talking? Has a drugged up hippie said something of the like while tripped of LSD? I want to fight it so bad, but I would die of starvation long before anything real would happen. The World owns what you need. Ownership, property, just more distractions. I don't know what to do. Would I even be questioning any of this if everything that I had planned had gone according? Fuck no, if I were in Arizona right now with $40,000 moving into my dorm meeting new people, preparing to be immersed in Astronomical and scientific study, words could simply not describe my state of being. Some words can be likened such as, heaven, or bliss, or self-actualized, but none could fully encompass the feeling. Astronomy is pretty far from The World, right? UA isn't. They are packaging lives. Education and actualization are god damn products to them. THEY NEED MY MONEY BEFORE THEY CAN GIVE ME KNOWLEDGE AND GROWTH AND that one small step closer to self-actualization. THEY WOULD'NT EVEN BE GIVING IT TO ME, I WOULD BE EARNING IT. Maybe this is just a baww post, but I feel like my hand was wrapped tightly around the door to heaven and that now I have been vacuumed away, back to hell. I need those stars. I need this universe and all of its nothing. I don't need ANYTHING ELSE. How do I get it without UA? I feel like all of this is Earth shaking, but someone else has said it before and it has and will go unnoticed. I'm not a damn victim, I DIDN'T DO THOSE HOMEWORK ASSIGNMENTS SO I DIDN'T GET THOSE GRADES SO I DIDN'T GET THAT MONEY SO I DIDN'T GET THAT UNIVERSITY SO I DIDN'T GET THAT WORK AS AN ASTRONOMER OR PHYSICIST TRYING TO FIGURE THIS UNIVERSE OUT, BUT WHO CARES IF I LISTENED DURING CLASS AND WORKED MY BRAINS TO MUSH UNDERSTANDING AND COMPREHENDING THE MATERIAL AND OPTED OUT OF MENIAL TASKS TO PURSUE FURTHER AND MORE ENRICHING KNOWLEDGE? I desire purpose, that's all...



Many hypocrisies and contradictions I'm sure. And definitely awful, awful grammar and punctuation, but what would it mean anyways?

Could you help me carry this stone?
Help me bring it to my home?
Once we make it there
I swear
I will sculpt the most magnificent
Effigy of you for you.
I have never been so sorry in my entire life.

I envision the future of money. It already has begun to disappear and morph into an electronic, pseudo-realistic ideal. Soon, it will become more and more virtual and the actual dollar bills will mean less and less. Everything will turn to credit and numbers on a screen. It would be so much more convenient. What then will the rich have that the poor do not? If at all possible, class will become more of a perceived idea that's less substantiated by reality.

So much good. So much hope. So much appreciation. I love some people.

Come King Arthur,
Come.
Bring your virtue and your inspiration.
King Arthur,
Stand in glorious opposition
And bring hope.
King Arthur,
Please lead us,
Please be our handle,
And guide us, stabilize us, hold us.
We need this, because we are human.
Grow in grandeur
And ascend above every height.
Super.
King Arthur,
Your existence is ours,
You are humans.
Thank you, King Arthur.

The language is necessary.

Monsoon, Please Not The Song (desert of contrast)

Attention and appreciation must be given to a desert Monsoon.
Windbells sharply chime and
The sky ruptures as timpani skin.
Televised attention whore mongers produce mimicked flashes
Through my cousin's shaded window,
But I heed only the naturale.
It rains,
It actually rains.
Palm trees line the streets with their arms raised high,
The still rain dance,
Hope for efficacy.
...

Marriage Advice

You, stop being a fucking asshole. You, stop being a fucking bitch. JFC!

If you are easily offended then stop reading now. Actually you should just never read my blog, so bye.

"Those orientals or japanese or koreans or whatever you want to call them come into the store and speak their language and it's the most annoying language. It's like their loud and just annoying. yuck I hate it."

Jesus fucking Christ , what the fuck is your problem? What the fuck , seriously? Wow, get the fuck out, that's the worst thing I have heard someone say in years.

Hustlin' curs,
Hustlin' curs,
Listenin' curs,
Eatin' on dust,
Feastin' on dust.

Equanimity Through Calamity

A behemoth trudges through the black forests of Appalachia. The night leaves, high on the trees, slowly sway and bow for his passing. This old beast awoke inside an abandoned coal mine, high in the mountains, and makes its way towards the nethermost valley. Its skin and wiry body hair are stained from one hundred years of settling soot, and its stark burning eyes sway through the canopy. The mammoth miscreation walks with a civilized gait, its body bulky and humanoid, but its steps are soft and absent of sound. Its shoulders touch just a bit above the tips of the tall oaks. Slowly but unabatedly it arrives at its destination. From a bird's eye view the creature stands at the isolated center of a dense hardwood forest.

The giant stops, and stands, as if waiting for anything to occur, but the forest is deathly quiet and static. He stands. For a great moment he becomes statuelike and dormant. Forthwith his matted hair bursts and the soot plumes into a large black fog, hickories topple. The beast grows energetic and thrusts his arms deep into the ground and grabs the roots of a nearby tree and uproots it. As the tree rockets through the air, the beast takes of in a bloodcurdling sprint. His voluminous lungs steal air from the surrounding area. His unearthly movements are violent and ravaging of the reality they influence. The beasts' steps cauterize the ground as he rushes through the forest. His agility is made clear as he pivots off a step and angles his rampage. He seems to run in indistinct directions but his eyes show aspiration. This beasts' wants and desires are so evil for this world. The surrounding fauna sense his hatred and malevolence and blood begins to tear in their eyes. They are so sorrowful and terrified of the woe that havocs their forest. Small fires begin to sprout from the beasts footprints and, from the eyes of the eagle passing by, an unholy maculation begins to take shape. The creature howls and bellows in short bursts, creating an unnatural cacophony that agitates the very medium through which it travels. He stampedes past the point at which he began this corruption, and begins to retrace his steps precisely. His reprints boil the water from the topsoil soil and petrify the once moist ground. He increases his impossible speed to a flash. The dodecagonal symbol becomes more indelible from the Earth with every lap the beast makes. Intricate patterns are emblazoned within the borders. The fires begin to rage.

After a multitudinous score of cycles, the beast makes his way towards the epicenter of his occult contrivance. His drop-off of velocity is as equally gross as was his escalation. Now he stands, fully enveloped by the fires of his aspiration. Black towers of smoke ascend towards the heavens, and serve as the beacon of his disaster. The blaze offers consummate contrast to the beasts' return of a calm and wise demeanor. For the first time, his supreme posture is compromised; He curls his back, bowed across the ground. The abomination sits as a gargoyle, all within him is calm, as the vociferous conflagration burns. Suddenly, his arms and legs reach for corners and his body is made prostrate, levitating. The fires are fed from their roots and light flashes forth. The ground cooks and melts, and the abomination descends into the glowing stew. The forest is left to burn. The ground coagulates but remains charred, and the Earth is forever scarred.

I want to get into horror, but I don't think my mind will let its guard down enough to be truly appreciative of the horror.