C o p y c a t C a s t l e in the C l o u d s
my friend once told me: "i want toilet paper in my hair! things will turn out better that way until tomorrow when i wake up and you're still asleep next to me. purring like a little groundhog day bill murray suffering from serious delirium. i like writing though. righting though no wrong from all the bad things i have done. until you come back home i'm sitting and waiting for the sun to stop shining in my room 237. then you can take back over and my partner. someone needs to take the foot out of my fingers. soup for dinner, washed the dishes. i don't have any money to spend. no money left for travel. going to be in the same place, my face collecting fungus. my beautiful bunny jump jump bunny. jump. jump. more than usual nonsense. better close my eyes. and watch you smile smile smile. your brown eyes disappear from light hiding the reflection of leaves falling from the trees."
repeat. never repeat. never repeat
my unblinking eye forgot everything. all the words i wrote all the songs i sang, all the beauty i have seen, all the ugliness too. in this war for balance. letter pictures. i always wondered how people, like kerouac, can produce hundreds of pages of words and sentences and call it a book. that all these flying people find and read coming down from heaven's gate like some bible describes. live by the word of the wind blowing through summer trees. not man.
this is all extra, this here. if only you could have read what i last wrote. i spent so much time carefully detailing my mind's concern for you. and trying to figure out just what i needed to say so you would understand. but that's all gone now. and you get to read this instead.
it all started 26 years ago. november the 3rd. the sun had gone out of orbit for a little while and it was dark. the stars lost in the infinity of time. part of something much larger than anything i could ever imagine or describe.
what good would it do anyway? if you're reading this i guess that's a start. it's really too bad you missed the first parts. i'm tired of playing catch up. be here now. let's start again. new. fresh. free. invent history.
everything is happening all at the same time over and over again. hold out your hand. press pause. stop. it's almost time again to take flight and see far away places and people with lives much unlike mine or my own. nothing like yours. truely i want only the best for all to see. it's ok if you never heard of this or tried eating that before. it's all new then. fun. fine. don't forget i've been here waiting all this time for my train to come so late now that i want to give up and take the bus instead. had i known earlier, i might have stopped then. before it was too late and our lives tangled into this knot. my bed knows how lonely i am. my friends laughed when i told them i loved you. but my cat just meowed. so i fed her and then she went to sleep.
dont put all your
eggs in one basket. if the basket should break. the eggs would fall. and
it's at the exact moment you'll want a nice western ommlette or to go
into hatching one out. that's if you listen to old people, what do they
know? think what the world was like when they were born.... pretty much
the same as it is now and will always be and have been. at the core of
it. none of the bells or whistles mind you.
you like dags? i have 2 dags. they are not here with my now though although i wish they were. one more than the other. you might call my favorite one, "my favorite one". it's not good to play favorites right? especially when children falling out of the crack in your legs happens.
it has reached a critical point now where all things carry more or less weight. i'd be glad to say that i'm happy. but what a misplaced lie will do to bring about sudden change and rearrange thoughts you once cherished and died instead.
i'm not a zombie, but all i really want to do is eat your brain with a wooden spoon. and get fancy on the ground floor of something really big. that would be majestic and grand in the oldest fashion sense of all invisible misunderstandings. because for the most part none of these words mean anything.
when i was born i don't really remember, but the cord attached me still to my mother. and it wrapped itself carefully around my neck so i couldn't breathe.
i'm still going to
you for your patience.
i'd ignore the whole god damned thing,
name last last name first
if i had the attention, i'd be home by now, or at least happy following along a long set path that could easily just be my own destiny.
did you ever have a feeling? like an itch you can't seem to sractch glitch an idea, key master gate open again. they keep coming and coming one right after the other. constantly for the rest of your days and nights but disappear by morning.
|broken memories living
perfect in my mind
boiled down to truth, no one will survive
isolated from friction, mad house divine
if you're reading this, that means that you know how to read. well done! if you understand any of this then that means i've been doing my job. everyday hours gone down the drain. with no expression of regret or blue sorrow. only words written in straight lines.
rectangle rombus square hexagon trapazoid circle with no sides. the pictures were food and then you died. so i ate your flesh. and used your hair as a mustache. then cut off your fingers to make soup. removed your lungs and now i can breathe again. i used everything... except your eyes, those i saved as my prize.
with only the slightest hesitation i fall hopelessly deeply out of my imagination. until someone picks me back up and dusts off the spider webs having caught only one moth. a bright grey morning glowing red. a dark day dwelling in my mind. a somewhere place up north. please don't hide. hallucinations. machinations. daily responses colored yellow. someday green.
Q: what's the meaning
of all this then?
"Precision of communication is important, more important than ever, in our era of hair trigger balances, when a false or misunderstood word may create as much disaster as a sudden thoughtless act.
the brink of insanity
monster standing before me
flag, blue flag
myself from you
dangled at the end of a string
smart to know what you said
decisions, can't sleep
smart to hear what you said
i am alone on this deserted island
roots, they fall from mars
be with you in your dreams
you for teaching me life
of names given at birth
may walk to this truth
fight and fight
stole it from me
the days which are to follow are not real. remember these words, and do not forget your past life. this is a taste of what life might be like if it were all fun and games. i will try and play for seven days. without regret, without wishes, without pain....
in a dream last night, i died in a fire. a very hot and very real fire. it was no ordinary fire, it was a magnet. pulling me closer and closer, growing bigger and bigger. blue flames, like a gas stove. i could feel the fire rumbling beside me, almost talking to me. I was the one who started this fire and i knew only i could put it out.
braved the stormy weather
|Waking from a deep sleep.
He looks out the hotel window to see a glow coming from the neighboring
buildings (wondering how long this has been going on, and what it could
be, a fire?). He grabs his camera and heads out of his room to investigate.
Getting downstairs is taking unusually long, and he doesnt understand why. 
Once he makes it down to the lobby, he looks around. Everywhere he looks is just another strange face. A feeling of fear slowly creeps up inside of his brain. So he starts the search for a way out. Finding an exit is very difficult and the lobby now seems to be a maze. He asks the man at the desk how to get outside, but when the man speaks, no words come out of his mouth. He points him in the other direction, which seems to lead nowhere. [7.1]
He finally makes it outside and begins the short walk to where he saw the mysterious glow coming from. As he walks, he begins to wonder why no fire trucks or police have arrived yet. The fire has been burning for so long. 
Hes now standing in front of the tall burning building and takes his camera out to take pictures of this strange site. When he looks through the lens of the camera, another row of buildings mysteriously appears in front of the old one. These new buildings seem to be growing from the earth. Higher and higher they grow, until the burning building is eclipsed. [4.3]
At a loss for words and reason, he takes the camera away from his eye, only to see the burning building exactly where it was, standing alone and no longer burning. 
Hes confused and consumed with fright. He closes his eyes, hoping to wake from this dream. 
When he reopens his eyes, theres nothing, only darkness.