the rain comes

rain: :to give abundantly; shower.
you can smell the rain as it slowly creeps in from the ocean, sliding south along the coast, clouds folding themselves around the islands and the mountains one misty inch at a time. browned out grasses and bone dry leaves parched from a few weeks without rain, hardly the dry land I am used to.
interlude: winged ant or strange wasp-like creature. silverfish? I know not, fluttering by the light, looking for a lover no doubt. captured amidst screaches and squeels before being released from the patio. all to the broken beat tempo of hiphop.
flashing red lights on the pattollo bridge, winking in the twilight, promising magical secrets to anyone with a bit of daring and the will to climb on up there and take a look. fade in…. fade out… still sticky from another humid-warm day, living in a box that is made of sunlight and cedar smells. drinking tequila in heavy shot glasses of bubbly clear and green glass. three to two, I lag behind with tear and sweat stained eyes. fade in… fade out… a fan blowing in my eyes in the warm glow of paper lanters and crt monitors. the led’s fade in… fade out…
back back back to the story I was talking about.
or not.

way back when

when: adv. : during the time at which; while.
The Salivation Army, back when zines were cool and the kids could still read and write. before the…
oh, fuck that old line about ‘oh the world of sell outs hiphop and zines and rock music suck now cause everything is about the money, and even raves are not cool anymore’.
cool shit is out there. you can find it. sometimes you can even make it, write it, and hold big fat drunkfests to promote it. text based gaming is -not- dead or dying, 8-bit is still where it is at, and V-fuckin-R is in the wings and I can’t fucking wait for it. and saying FUCK is still cool, even if it isn’t. fuckityfuckfuck mano.
so, the search for employment continues, and once again I grow weary of the dance. resumes sent, interviews had, waiting for callbacks, bullshitting people who are bullshitting you. all a pile of doublethink. sarah should never have let me start reading 1984, it will ruin my brain. oh yes. oh baby baby baby, fuck me, slow and gentle until we both end up weeping, dripping sweat onto ikea sheets in the humid air. remember way back when, hiding in a basement sharing something forbidden and illicit? never has a shower felt so good as with you.

limits and wishes

limit : n : a number or point L that is approached by a function f(x) as x approaches a if, for every positive number , there exists a number such that | f(x)-L | < if 0 < | x-a | < . Also called limit point, point of accumulation.
if anyone has a clue what that up there means, please leave a comment explaining it.
there is a reason they tell you not to stare at bright lights or the sun, and going blind has little to do with it. lay back on the grass, and look up in the bright sky. half lid your eyes like a Buddha, to the point where the light starts to bend and dance between your eyelashes. open the eyes a little more, and look at the pattern of the images dancing before you. that is the back of your eye, your retina. ease your eyes closed a sliver, a half an intention and you begin to see the structures that make up the universe, all spread out in the light playing in your eyelashes.
that is the real reason they don’t want you staring at the sun, or a light bulb.
also note, it is nearly impossible to do this with a flickering light source such as a telivision or computer monitor. as one approaches the point where the light shatters and displays reality, a flickering source such as a tv blurs, softens, and all you can see is the flickering. perhaps that is why telivision rots ones brain.
that is the real reason they do want you staring at the telivision.
I can close my eyes and see worlds. if there was a way to hook directly into…I dunno, a computer, or a reality, then I could build an entire universe using but my mind. perhaps some day I will be able to do so, moulding reality into new shapes.
72 hours until we move.