bored... sore... sore pork sword... cored... whored... floored... nord... stupor galore moored... just roared... Lord Gore aka Joe Bore.........
you hear "bittersweet symphony" when i come crashing into your life....hate the pre-fab fashionistas, AND WOMEN FISHING FOR AMERICAN LOSERS ON THIS SITE, people with indifference to poverty and the masses, the expensively matriculated upper-crust of people network sites who live on vulgar display of excess and prejudice, people staring at my sneakers, the Goth poseurs.........
love the rain in afternoons, long drive to provincial towns with Tracey Thorn on the radio, figurin' out deja vu's, playin' movie scenes in my head, dancin' like Bill Cosby with a hot babe, sinigang na ulo ng lapu-lapu, makin' my nephew giggle..........imagining that i'm Jay Gatsby, that i chill with Moby, Norman Cook, Josh Wink, Gallagher bros, the Wachowskis, that Julia Ormond, Audrey Tautou, Jennifer Connely leave messages on my machine..........
to do in my lifetime... f*ck in rome on easter sunday with the pope on a transistor radio... write a sci-fi screenplay that will match the wachowski's in the himalayas... get a crash course on wudan skills... recover my past energies in machu picchu... fire a water canon on mardi gras revelers... be an ibiza dj for 4 weekends... write "i was here" in the louvre museum... read early x'tian parchments in the vatican... make out with a druid princess in brighton beach... live and die a hermit in romblon forests... oh yeah, five years from now, you wait in line to get my books signed...
Perfection. Excellence. What a passionate lover. But once having tasted the lips of excellence, once having oneself to its perfection, how dreary and burdensome and filled with anomie are the remainder of one's waking hours trapped in a shackled lock-step of the merely ordinary, the barely acceptable, the just okay and not a stroke better.......... In order to attain the impossible one must attempt the absurd...
im an angry fellow... i miss seeing love, feeling the love...
"you can't spell slaughter without laughter"
the mind at the end of it's tether...