if i can get all my publicity shots taken with a .22 rifle we’ll have nothing to worry about ever again i promise . . .
spitting in the future's eye is not recommended. when things get too transparent someone pours ink in the tank & we all put on our wool glasses, it's third rate second nature what do you expect. there is a lot of catching up to do. i graduated [!] & am going on tour [!] with two different bands in two months [!!] & hereby disown the recent past with a flourish worthy of a bank-vault full of sequins, i'm simply relieved to be getting the technicolored fuck out of here. the last few months have been somewhat like prolonged immersion in a tank of cement. "but seriously i can get out of this any time i want!" HA again. i hate to say i told me so but that's what other people are for, right. IF YOU PLAY WITH FIRE YOU ARE LIKELY TO DEVELOP A FIERCE & INSATIABLE APPETITE FOR NAPALM. or maybe i was born with it
& i wish i could say i REMEMBER graduating but there's a little hole in my memory there which is only too perfect considering what the four years leading up to it were like. there are great beaming photos of me looking like cat-choking-on-canary in my silly square hat but hey! they weren't taken close up enough to see the OUT OF ORDER sign behind the eyes! score one for selective unconsciousness, score two for THE AMERICAN WAY. & for my next trick, i shall disappear completely, off the face of the earth, for an extended period of time--stop me if you've heard this one before...
it won’t be pretty, & neither will the aftermath. quit while you can, pet the jelloid kitten sitting in your skull where your brain used to be, remember you did this to yourself. bed is made, commence telling the truth in it, or b) wake the fuck up & smell the towering inferno. just because a horse can be led to water does not mean it is not a plot if i am asked to follow it. ie: what the fuck do I have to gain out of this being-led-to-water, i have a full bottle in my purse, are you going to try to drown me while the public is distracted by the bucolic scene of this stately stallion sipping at the stream? is the pope blue in the face? who would jesus do? why haven’t my vitamins been turned into amphetamines yet? all these goddamn questions are making my eyes climb out of my face like it's a burning building which well,
the point: here
in a few weeks, & anything in front of that may as well be an oncoming train, sometimes it's not worth taking your sunglasses off
oh yeah &: Ask Me About My 90 Page Thesis, hahaha