Sunday, November 22, 2009

this is what i'm really doing when you see me sitting at my desk

I was sitting- i mean keeping busy doing my job at work, watching people go by. A girl, bout 7 years old, passed, tugging her shirt down over her swimsuit. It crossed my mind "Kids shouldn't be so self conscious."

Then i thought about it. The word "should" is more often then not awful. And who am i to say kids aught to be one way or another? (esp. in this time)

And what a great study it would be: self consciousness within the time line of a life. Hmm--

-i know i'm not phrasing everything right, but it's concept not content

You think you're so advanced....

Has anyone else forgotten that we're still wearing plants as clothes?

Thursday, November 19, 2009

the random questions and observations i almost forgot

1) Listening to Nine Inch Nails is like getting fucked by the Terminator or Frank Castle.

2) What would be the difference between a zombie filled with blood and a zombie filled with embalming fluid?

3) Hardship always benefits someone

4) An honest person makes the best liar.

5) A necrophiliac has sex with a zombie. Is pregnancy a possibility?

so life has come to this:

Sitting at work, drinking coffee, google-ing images of baby sloths...

and crying-cuz they're just so damn cute.

Monday, August 31, 2009

No girl to fuck but yourself

first i wanted to dance.
then i wanted to watch them dance.
While watching them dance, i realized i wanted to make them into art.
Attempting to create this art- i found myself wanting to fuck them.
imagining fucking them, i ended up fucking myself.

a new level of being let down

Marvel sold themselves-
but not to DC or anyone somewhat deserving...
the sold themselves to Disney.
Prepare for the desecration of a lifetime

Friday, July 31, 2009

Conflict...Part II: Even More!

And even more-
(indeed the question that spawned the prior inquisition-)

Are genders more partial to specific pitches and/or sounds?
(basically do women prefer a pitch/sound more than men, and do men prefer a sound/pitch more than women?)

i'm sure there are studies on this sort of thing----but i wanna discuss and formulate speculations before i go full fledged research on every one's asses.

most of my concept of shallow detail

okay so pretty much life is a glowing orb(the color of the orb may be associated with your aura) with a silk ribbon spiraling down it and eventually winding up itself. (If it reaches back to the top then the individual has become self-actualized or possibly altruistic by the time of death.)
(*also it should be noted that the color of the ribbon indicates the over-all path you took in life -the energies you based actions upon, etc)

Inside the glowing orb is You. there are many layers and dimensions of You- indicating depth of consciousness and perspective. Also, the little spec we call You is divided (typically into the ID, EGO, and SUPER-EGO-)but is subject to change based on the individual. At the core of You there are 7 different energies known as chakras.

So basically the glowing orb is existence and the spiralling ribbon is the execution. Any questions??

haha- told you it was shallow detail.

Conflict! How Doth Thou Find Me With Such Ease?

A new conflict has risen in my mind:

Studies show shapes are associated with pitches.
Studies also show shapes being linked to gender.
What happens when the gender doesn’t match the pitch???

I’m going to go out on a limb her and saying gender traits are learned and often stereotypical( unless they are an archetype which are universal hence considered truth in my books)- they’re a cultural phenomena more so than an exact science.

When you think of a circle you can hear a low pitched tone most of the time.
When you think of a triangle a higher pitch may come to mind.

But circles are generally associated with women and triangles with men- and women are generally linked to higher pitches and men to lower. Maybe that’s just my take, or American culture’s perspective. But none the less it’s conflicting (to my mind).

Perhaps it’s more size than shape that dictates pitch.
But isn’t size generally associated with volume?

Oh golly I’m so thrown off right now…. if anybody out there has an idea PLEASE- talk to me!

simi-rough draft: The Deliciousness and His Bunch of Grapes

The Deliciousness and His Bunch of Grapes

Little Ali, lonely as could be, wondered through the muggy vineyard. Mouth full of cotton she wept, for the empty air had consumed her time and will. Steamy tears fell to her ripening breasts and streamed down her modest yet exposed cleavage. Were they tears or beads of humidity some may wonder?

For hours she walked through the maze of vines and shrubs, certain that there really was no point in life other than death.

As Ali turned a corner of the relentless maze her eyes were nearly pulled from her skull. There- 113 yards from her feet were the most luscious and gargantuan grapes her sight finders had ever beheld. A mad dash led to her pink finger tips to tickle the skin of a juicy green grape. Before her cerebral cortex could relay information to her motor cortex Ali tasted the sour juices of the green grape. She immediately regretted her impulsive actions and smacked herself repeatedly over the front of her head.

These grapes are OBVIOUSLY not ripe! She thought.

And before she could think to walk away a realization surfaced. Though the grape was sour in taste, it had moistened her lips and given her tongue slight gratification. Indeed the concept of thirst had not been acknowledged until that very moment.

Another stimulus was discovered that moment- the largest, most perfect grape to be known to little Ali’s conscious life and wildest dreams! All this time it had been inconspicuously growing under the other grapes. Ali’s mouth watered and her heart thumped like a wood pecker’s beak against a tree. She wanted so badly its juices to introduce themselves to her many dry taste-buds.

This however was not accomplished because the recollection of sour flavors was all too fresh in her mind. Instead she decided that she’d tend to the grape until its adulthood. She read once, that if you talk to plants they’ll grow faster and healthier than regular plants. With this in mind she even decided to name the larger-than-life fruit. The Deliciousness it was coined. The Deliciousness was also designated a gender (to better connect was Ali’s reasoning.)

And so it was, Ali would raise The Deliciousness and his bunch of grapes until they were fit and ripe. (Because everyone knows young green grapes grow up to make splendid Pinot Noir.)

The days passed and turned to weeks and every hour Ali would tend to the fruit and sing it wonderful melodies and personal renditions of Creedence Clearwater Revival tunes. The Deliciousness grew even larger (much to the girl’s surprise,) and darker every time! The petite red-head became so fond of her new precious she almost dreaded the thought of killing him (but this was easily resolved when the cotton in her mouth rebelled and expanded like mold.)

Finally the day came- The Deliciousness reached his prime and was ready for the picking. Ali’s eyes filled with a sting and she felt a prick in her chest to know soon she’d be alone again, with no one and nothing but herself to enjoy. Through this though, she knew the enjoyment she’d receive from the nectar of her workings would far prevail.

Ali sang one more CCR song to the gang of grapes, a sort of bidding good bye, sort of assurance of pick them at their most prime.

From here on the memory gets dim. All that is known is that once Ali filled her mouth with the nectar of gratification she slipped into a dream-state and decided to reside there permanently

Friday, July 24, 2009

my Life is soooo Awesome!

i sit at a desk after-hours feeling like i'm inside a hot pocket.
(but not the hot pocket i'd like to be in- HAHA!)

Time passes as i spin in my office chair. 3-2-1 lift off go my feet from the floor and weee! Yes, surely spinning in circles 5x will help BALANCE my equilibrium. Brilliant!

I get to listen to The Blow-which is the perfect band for all nerdy hot lesbian librarians in their 20's....(not that i'm any of those things)with a little bit of a kinky side
(strap-ons anyone??)

I'm fantasizing about double eyebrow piercings-

And getting oddly turned on by images of robots fucking hot sluts on their backs.
haha no i'm just in a vulgar mood (but robots fucking women is making me a new kind of wet)

i want to go on....but somethings telling me to stop. Guess i'll finish later lol
(or will i? *suspicious darting eyes*)

Friday, June 26, 2009

People suck Capitalist cock and eat Fascist shit everyday to get a little more of the green...
Glad my favorite color is grey.

Saturday, June 20, 2009

CAUTION! Nerd ahead!

i'm sitting here listening to the song True Affection by The Blow. Words like Mitosis, Cytokinesis, and phenotype along with a shit load of Freudian terms turn me on. I'm having a cup of coffee as outside rain drops hold a personal fiesta. I'm thinking about how amazing parenthesis are...i mean really- they're about the grooviest thing out there (in the grammar world that is) and i love them! I'm also preparing string for weaving and lusting for vintage carpet from the early 1970's....

you know you want me:P

Saturday, June 13, 2009

A Supreme Rebellion

I walk home and notice the street light is on.

But the sun is shining.

I look at the grass and the sprinklers are running.

But the rain is falling.

last year:

i was riding the bus. Nothing good going on except my ipod. Sinatra came on- "That's life.." he sang. "...You're riding high in April, shot down in May...." and i started to cry. You see April was a damn good month for me, one of the better months of a wretched 3 year span. And all of the sudden on May first- my happiness decided to commit suicide. And go figure- here i was sitting on a bus only a few weeks later-Frank singing my life's pathetic truth. "But i know I'm goin'a change that tune, when I'm back on top- back on top in June.." It cheered me up a smidgen---gave a breath of optimism. Funny thing is- i don't remember June.

Microwave Safe

Ironic how most dishes this day and age are microwave safe while the microwave itself isn't.

The Duality of Human Nature

i love glass.
i also love breaking glass.

Friday, May 22, 2009

Why Do They All Love Me?

Because my existence is executed by being the most beneficial to theirs.

Saturday, May 16, 2009

my best friend and i email each other

TO: MJ Slick
SENT: Wed May 13, 2009
FROM: Kira

i wrote it- but i can't get it right. My words make the concept so much less than what it is. I have no clue what to do- i feel like the less words i use the more meaningful the metaphore- but i need to explain the intricacies of these two subjects. And i don't even know if truely it's the errors of man that remind me of the desert, perhaps it's just the nature...any suggestions would be appreciated.

The errors of human nature remind me of the desert and it’s interaction with the rain. We deprive and harm our selves and others; which causes our soil to dry.
From there the scaring only grows and before we know it the moist soil is cracked and brittle. All we need is a little water, and things would be healthier, softer. Time wears on, the dirt only gets harder, and the moisture is out of sight. One day a cloud appears in the sky line and before we know it day is blackened by the promise of nutrients. And then it falls, the precious drops of water run to the ground to repair the tragedy that it has become. But the real tragedy is it’s too late. The damage has already been done and instead of the dirt becoming wet with joy it becomes flooded, as if it were holding a grudge.
We were starved for so long…and evolved into something else.

SENT:Wed May 13th, 2009
FROM: MJ Slick

I really do love the metaphor. I think however, that the hard ground is just resistant... and water, being such a bearer of life, will permeate no matter what - in time. The dirt may be hardened but still needs and wants this water... sometimes drowning in another world is the only way to soften our own landscape.

TO: MJ Slick
SENT: Thur May 14, 2009
FROM: Kira

Thank you- you reminded me of details i had pushed aside. I could however, debate with your statement that water will permeate with time- the desert doesn't get rain frequently enough for permeation to take place. But i see what you're saying and i truely appreciate your input.

Teusday Morning Blues

i wear a black skirt without panties.
i like the idea of easy access.
i think about the grains of sand
i let slip through my finger tips
they could have become glass.
pizza and beer at 11:00am
and Aerosmith continues to play
the fire in the living room cracks and roars.
i think of the man i could have had
dating 25 years past my 20
and i wonder what it would have been like.
i sit in bed sick as a dog
because love has forgotten me.

on life pt I

Every waking moment
I lose a little more of myself.

And gain
A little more of this wretched world.

reflections on April 10th

A broken promise
Is more worthless
Than gilded shit.

Friday, May 15, 2009

the scientific method

We are all field researchers in the natural phenomena known as life. Our task is to go out and experiment (after forming some sort of hypothesis), take (mental) notes and construct them into a conscious form and report them to each other along with possible "solutions."

Sunday, May 10, 2009


Just when you think you’re over your disability
It kisses your cheek to let you know it’s there.


I remember when I was a kid, 14 or so, I laughed at the idea someone could have anxiety as a disorder. 6 years later I’m near tears realizing it’s true.

just like John Coffey

An other one told me he hurts today. He has no desire to live.
His heart was broken, his blood was frozen-
He has nothing left to give.

I'm sick of seeing
all these people
with pain.

Passion has left them, life has grown dim.
They see no self worth, no bright side.
They awake everyday in hopes of death's grace.

And every time my heart bleeds tears as do my eyes.
I feel the dark they have inside.
I want to replace it with colors.
But i can't.
And that hurts just as bad.

Scar tissue is too thick to rip through-
And people are too evil to prevent it from happening again.

just for today

i was asked how i was doing today.
i responded:
"Eh, alright. Not glorious but not apocalyptic-"

i sure am glad i realized that for today.

Friday, May 1, 2009

Google "guitar"'s pathetic

i FUCKING HATE guitar hero.

Thursday, April 30, 2009

Liquid Time

I walk down a loosely graveled path and think about the life I have lived.
Was my youth so long ago?

Time is passing, flowing like waves in the ocean. Each wave exists once, and after it hits the shore you will never behold it again.
Each molecule of hydrogen and oxygen become a memory, an event, or a feeling captivated by your conscience. These molecules bond, giving ultimate union to an infinite conscience.

And the water slips slowly through
Your fingers.

Portishead's Third

Portishead’s album Third tends to be like that kinky fantasy you play again over and over in your head. It gets fixated on that idea that gets you off most but is surprisingly progressive. The vocalist, a woman, has a certain seduction about herself, something mechanic, something artificial like clones rather than an honesty. This however allows one to have a "no strings attached" feeling as their ears sensually explore the message at hand. As the album comes to an end you almost want to grab a cigarette. It feels like a charcoal gray satin sheet is bounding you into its cool endless rhythm when you’re doused in sweat. The electronic influence is heavy but not in the repetitive sense like with most music- its organic. Organic electronic music with lots of sex appeal- haha that’s what this album is.

cigarette burn

I flipped my head upside down while I was blow drying my hair this morning. My eyes fixed themselves to a faint circular scar on my thigh. It took only a second to recall the incident.

I was in the back seat of a trashed Subaru wind blowing my hair in every direction. My buddy Stin lit his fag and started to puff. Minutes later he flicked the ash out of the window. The wind however didn’t see this appropriate or suiting, so it spit the ash right back. Unfortunately instead of laying itself on the perpetrator it took a liking to the back seat, specifically my thigh. Burnt right through my jeans (surprisingly) and into my flesh.

While remembering this ridiculousness a flash of anger infiltrated my conscience. Why was I the one who got burned? I wasn’t the one smoking- hell I don’t even like cigarettes! Surely this was undeserved!

Then I realized how silly I was.

Miles Davis

The thing about Miles Davis is this: it’s a man and his instrument being the epitome of intimacy and not caring who’s paying attention! It’s self-expression on a level most individuals hardly achieve in these modern times.

There’s a sense of security within the music they (Davis and his beloved horn) create- you know you’ll always feel something listening to it! How can one stay numb when they’re listening to a man put his heart and soul on record so gracefully? The melodies may go along with feelings of lonely displacement with the rest of the world or utter bliss at the taste of relaxation. He may make you cry tears of joy and tears of sorrow, all at once or over time.

There’s just something about Miles Davis and that trumpet- they plunge themselves deep into your heart without expecting of you what others would. They are just in their existence and complete within each other. It has nothing to do with the filth of this world be it money or sex. It isn’t about popularity or being liked. It’s about making a love – a love supreme as Coltrane would say. It’s about externalizing the most internal thing any being has.


Ever been so excited you feel like your going to explode? You feel like a piƱata full of complacent melody and cheer rather than artificial sweets. At the tiniest prick of inspiration you blow!