06251975/4513 = 3154\57915260

I wake up often and don't know where I am.

I don't know what time it is.

What day is it?

What job do I have to get to?

What/whose/which house is this?

I sometimes rub the sleep out of my eyes, blink at the ceiling and listen to the house and neighborhood sounds and try to remember what year it even is.

Everyday I do this -

The WHO

       WHAT

       WHERE

       WHEN

Everyday I do this - 

And I know...
     
       WHY.

Stream of obnoxiousness to be turned into new bodies of work...

A man cannot be comfortable without his own approval. - Mark Twain 

So that is why you will always suck, Self.

I can't fall asleep yet
but I don't think that I'm giving myself time to do so
It ticks louder when it's quiet
It's muted when you all are SO LOUD

SO SELFISH
SO STUPID

Mollusks
and shellfish

You are Krill
and I'm a Baleen Whale

I haven't been drinking
I've just been thinking too much
about thinking about how
I don't think enough
or do things enough
about the really important stuff

I used a lot or repetitive and aquatic words on Porpoise.

Sorry, I couldn't kelp myself.

STUPID.

Okay, now I'm going to shut this drown.

"Time will prove my love to you and cement my place in your heart forever. For time will give me the credibility and the believability that I need to convince you to want to spend the rest of your life with me. That I am worthy of such a commitment from you."

Time tells
that love spent
makes marks on our bones

The rocket's set now
do we set the dial to 1 or 10?

retract/unwind
life starts again

breathe
relax
calm down

Time told
you back then
that you were a speck

like a dust mote
galactic dust
a Big Bang of Love

The rocket's thrusting now
do we set the dial to 11?

Time will tell
if my love spent
will make me more

Than this...

It is true that a fellow cannot ignore women - but he can think of them as he ought - as sisters, not as sparring partners. Jim Elliot

FAT FREE LOVE

DEAR Kevin,

This is CNN. 

 I mean, this is Mandie. I wanted to express again my appreciation and gratitude for you. I am sure I will express these feelings again and again, for days and weeks and months to come and months turn into years, so let's see where this goes.  It's already been a little more than 30 days since you laid that kiss on me in the kitchen. I often replay the memory of that first night. I do. I really do.

 I have loved before, but this is different with you. It feels new every time I see you. There is a sort of electricity I get from you that grows from my heart space and wiggles with yours. That's the best way I can describe it and THAT is the new thing.  New love is always exciting, but this is different. You've done something to me that I've never experienced before.

 I don't have a doubt in my mind about this new relationship…. In the past, I found myself asking questions like, "How many times are we going to make this trip?"  Knowing that the drive to visit whomever it was would someday become a burden.  It always did. You realize how far away someone is when you fall out of love with them.  Conveniently and luckily, you live in a place that I already consider another home. I know this city and I love it. I'd like to move back one day. I'd like to love you more every day. I daydream about sharing a place with you, cooking you food, reading comic books, creating things, laughing a lot, leaving notes for you, kissing you, touching your butt as you walk by me, dancing, singing, playing records, shopping for old records… All of these things. It's true. I don't only think, but simply know a life with you would be a lot of fun.  And I'm a strong believer in having a fun, easy life. I also know that I can make you a happy man in more ways than one. I'll help keep you healthy, and young, and happy. If you're having a bad day, I have a magical ability to pull you out of it.  You are so-far fulfilling everything I would want from a partner. As if I were to write a list of all the components of my ideal mate. You're like me in so many ways and so not like me in complimentary ways.  I would watch Star Wars for you. Do you understand the importance of this decision? 

Oh Kevin. Oh baby. Oh sweet thing. You are wonderful. You are so good to me. So thoughtful, caring, expressive, and loving. Thoughtful. Sexy, beautiful, funny, intelligent. I am so glad you happened to me. I never quite understood why I was so sensitive to you before, but I suppose it makes sense now, yes?

I love you. 

A-Bzz-bzz,

Mandie Bee

Freelance Writer Afraid of Fire...

Martian Manhunter is obsessed with television programming. Martian Manhunter is obsessed with getting paid for comic book, tech, magazine, fiction, non-fiction, wedding vows and any other type of writing. Martian Manhunter is obsessed with Martian Manhunter obsessing about Martian Manhunter obsessing about television programming.

Make Money With AdSense...

Make nothing with nonsense
accomplish nothing with pretense
sixpence
penny farthings
for smatterings and heart smartings
and the absence of beats hearting
an awareness of obtusence
and a putrid semblence of
the one through five sense
says,

"There's no making money with AdSense."

As long as I'm writing @fatfreemilk

:)

A perfect day. A perfect night. It's nice. We deserve it. Right?

ZooooooooooozzzzzzzzzzzzZ

And the reason that you don't write as much as before is because
you wrote so much before
you see paper and want to write on it
you have ideas and clever thoughts and movie things and poems
business things

but you don't
not as much
and you're cool with it
sometimes

And the reason that you don't write as much as before is because
there's
no rush
it's frustrating, I KNOW
but
I'm older now
LIFE got older
more important

We're getting older

I want to write about this TOGETHER.

Tongue Tied - GROUPLOVE [official video]

Neon Trees - Everybody Talks

Chairlift - Bruises

Beethoven -- Moonlight Sonata

mbee3

mbee2

mbee

Burial & Four Tet Feat. Thom Yorke - Ego HQ

A Wedding Speech...

The Edge...

SEARCH THIS.

Wikipedia will never replace an Encyclopedia.

The Dog Stars...

I love reading the first page of a book and knowing that I'm going to blow through it in a week.
Even at this hour, a late start is a good start to my small comforts.

And the fucking author writes like me.

Fucked up-like. Fragmented and shit.

"I keep the beast running."

i didnt do it on purpose

i told you that I shouldnt have this shit around here

TRUST...

“For me, trees have always been the most penetrating preachers. I revere them when they live in tribes and families, in forests and groves. And even more I revere them when they stand alone. They are like lonely persons. Not like hermits who have stolen away out of some weakness, but like great, solitary men, like Beethoven and Nietzsche. In their highest boughs the world rustles, their roots rest in infinity; but they do not lose themselves there, they struggle with all the force of their lives for one thing only: to fulfil themselves according to their own laws, to build up their own form, to represent themselves. Nothing is holier, nothing is more exemplary than a beautiful, strong tree. When a tree is cut down and reveals its naked death-wound to the sun, one can read its whole history in the luminous, inscribed disk of its trunk: in the rings of its years, its scars, all the struggle, all the suffering, all the sickness, all the happiness and prosperity stand truly written, the narrow years and the luxurious years, the attacks withstood, the storms endured. And every young farmboy knows that the hardest and noblest wood has the narrowest rings, that high on the mountains and in continuing danger the most indestructible, the strongest, the ideal trees grow.

Trees are sanctuaries. Whoever knows how to speak to them, whoever knows how to listen to them, can learn the truth. They do not preach learning and precepts, they preach, undeterred by particulars, the ancient law of life.

A tree says: A kernel is hidden in me, a spark, a thought, I am life from eternal life. The attempt and the risk that the eternal mother took with me is unique, unique the form and veins of my skin, unique the smallest play of leaves in my branches and the smallest scar on my bark. I was made to form and reveal the eternal in my smallest special detail.

A tree says: My strength is trust. I know nothing about my fathers, I know nothing about the thousand children that every year spring out of me. I live out the secret of my seed to the very end, and I care for nothing else. I trust that God is in me. I trust that my labor is holy. Out of this trust I live.

When we are stricken and cannot bear our lives any longer, then a tree has something to say to us: Be still! Be still! Look at me! Life is not easy, life is not difficult. Those are childish thoughts. Let God speak within you, and your thoughts will grow silent. You are anxious because your path leads away from mother and home. But every step and every day lead you back again to the mother. Home is neither here nor there. Home is within you, or home is nowhere at all.

A longing to wander tears my heart when I hear trees rustling in the wind at evening. If one listens to them silently for a long time, this longing reveals its kernel, its meaning. It is not so much a matter of escaping from one's suffering, though it may seem to be so. It is a longing for home, for a memory of the mother, for new metaphors for life. It leads home. Every path leads homeward, every step is birth, every step is death, every grave is mother.

So the tree rustles in the evening, when we stand uneasy before our own childish thoughts: Trees have long thoughts, long-breathing and restful, just as they have longer lives than ours. They are wiser than we are, as long as we do not listen to them. But when we have learned how to listen to trees, then the brevity and the quickness and the childlike hastiness of our thoughts achieve an incomparable joy. Whoever has learned how to listen to trees no longer wants to be a tree. He wants to be nothing except what he is. That is home. That is happiness.” 
― Hermann Hesse, Bäume. Betrachtungen und Gedichte

Fat Free Milk

Way back in 2002, I was fiddling around here. RIGHT HERE. There was a company called Pyra Labs that provided Fat Free Milk (me) access to default templates, back-end-system-fiddling-around-ease-of-use and instant publishing gratification for a measly $8.95 a month, or something like that. This seemed pretty expensive back in the day but I came from the era of "Web Pages". One page. Like

Dude - I'll finish this later...

Today...

I did everything.