My high school guidance counselor parodied himself on TV.

Animal Collective kicked me in the brainospherically shaped coconut which is my mind. Something like a combination of God's semen and superstring theory competing for dominance in miniturity. Closed eye hallucinations. Open eye hallucinations. After the show finished I got outside before everyone else and lay down on the grass, looking up a tree and feeling the cool air from the lake wash over me. People's voices carried off to other countries.

New people are very interesting to be around because they don't know anything about you and you don't know anything about them. This seems an obvious statement, but there are a lot of walls to deal with when encountering a person. The complications of social interaction are astounding, given how non-central of an issue these fuckeries are. Or maybe they're the most central of issues and we're being distracted by the razzle dazzle of macro-economics and genocide and intergalactic exploration. How can I get beneath the skin, around the bones and curl up there with an intense feeling of youness?

All phrases can be contextualized by the phrase: "And everything was being pulled downward for some reason."

Nobody can tell you why gravity works. Outside the Bible, there is not historical record of a man named Jesus Christ existing.

How dense are our historical records? In 1 000 000 years, will someone be able to look up your credit card statements? Will what they find be beautiful and unsettling?

set 'em wild, set 'em wild, set them free-ee.

I feel like shit.
I cry out into the digital emptiness for assistance.
But there's still all this stuff to do.
And my throat is still so swollen I can't sing properly, and singing improperly makes it worse.
I want to finish my songs.
I don't want to get up at 6am for work every day for the next 3 1/2 months.
Not that it's difficult or anything.
I would just rather be exempt.

I got my jacket back today.
I left it in the bar in a safe place and it disappeared.
Things always disappear from safe places.
The A/C guy might have taken it, or someone might have stolen it, or it might still be here somewhere, he said.
It was on a hanger in the back, sunglasses in a different pocket than I left them in.
I'm sure someone was walking around in a parody of me.
How marvelous!

Saw another fisher.
Confidence is building, I guess.
Having discussions and then reading them in books.
Researching mundane things only to have others question me about them in unrelated ways without being aware of the aforementioned research.
I'm worried that his condition might be real, or that he might make it real by believing in it.
Where is the line?

I hope I will see you soon.

http://wvs.topleftpixel.com/06/04/29/

The drum tracks for "Neighbourhood" are finished. I'm stoked. This song is going to take a lot of work, but it will be so worth it.

I went to see Daft Punk Tribute last night at the El Mocombo. It was fucking dope. Jazz horn solos all over dance music? Are you kidding me, Tuna?