Emily beamed

 just (8:21:37PM) looked up on my phone how to get scratches out of watch faces, read the pleasing phrases "watch crystal" and "determine what kind of crystal you have" and applied old child glasses lens cloth from right hand drawer to said undetermined but personal left hand watch face and with minor rubbing, removed the scratch which was a minute erred point of fixed fog from me hitting the watch accidentally against the inside doorknob of the bathroom door, minutes ago after washing my hands after feeling this sort of ailment-seeming but warm and friendly personal fog in my chest, downstairs, paranoid that i would be "clocked" as having smoked half a cigarette, earlier, in the parking lot of HWes, so operating in these sort of mechanical and teenage loops in the kitchen, around my parents, who actually just seemed happy to see me and sort of concerned i would not warm up and have dinner in the "correct" ways but any "correctness" relating only to me being fully nourished and "correctly" fed, had 2 modelos also by Lake A Plaza and there was a pleasant (and only in retrospect does it now appear to be constant, endemic and extant to the plaza and the part of the day spent there)... How to...There was a sensation of context and memory, but running in a track parallel to me, cold and unpainful. it was very cold which was also good. I found that in doing the slight mental vault required previous to the social situation, having to do a slight neural hop over the not even verbalized and now sort of purely textural and lightless mesh of "I am not wanted there", i arrived and soon ran myself into confidence, beforehand was nervous in the parking lot listening to at eithe rPepper or else the unheard On an axis... It feels banal to list song titles, but i guess i am trying to achieve and ram forward into a sort of core specificity which seems possibly like it shouldn't be circled and should also be described as quickly as possible... What else would I do, the vague "second song" "third song" doesn't seem better,

coming back here (8:51:50PM) after recalling while typing end of this blog post that while listening to whichever song was playing in the car and parked before exiting and meeting the other i thought "listening to music you know and like is for strengthening of self, ego" "I know that now", had a positive thought related to acid (rare if not possibly even totally solitary) sort of simultaneous or else just alongside in a sense not temporal but not spatial either in the lightless colorless render of mind, simultaneous to or alongside a wordless and impetus-less sense of the material strengthening, like a natural scale or armor, armadillo maybe, scales to the hard or nacred dermis,   and then while there and after being there and then the smooth and easy drive back down R Parkway the self was back, is back, or is possible, is good and possible, beaming out from me, protected or reserved, changed but luminous, confident,

I feel a similar drive, heat, and flow while typing currently that i felt in the past in livedoc.docx and Livedoc2.docx, both of which i was reading over last night and feeling i think a low-grade and anesthetized "fucked"ness, the quotation marks are not for any verbal /semantic prophylaxis or irony, i feel they are funny and also create little text "bon bons" that you see are strung up by double pins, it is pleasant to see ""bon" and "bons"" next to each other like that with a cushion of space between

Last night i was also watching mumblecore, the beginning of liveblog by megan boyle, the current 2023 liveblog of megan boyle , megan boyle's flickr (as multimedia aid and emotional augmentation alongside liveblog), i remember watching again, feeling that it was imperfect and feeling a sluggy gray motivation to go back and recut it, then feeling that i wouldn't and all this was a flat wet loop occurring dull and simultaneous to many other streams of feeling 

One of which was hope, "i have made good things before which were lighted and good without needing any exterior contrast of environment and which even in fault are formed of talent and 

The watch is fogged up, looking into that now, online

I keep leaning towards him sexually, i want to arch over him, he was on the field where i had recess and i wanted to lay on top of him, arch connotes garden, i just colored both the words "sexually" and "garden" and then uncolored them, seemed stupid, like House of leaves stupid. Ha ha i am just having fun writing this, I am having fun! i feel the low flat settle at lower bowel that creates stress due to i will have to stop writing and go to the bathroom and meta- stress which seems to quicken the settle into an annoying digestive pressure. I don't want to describe digestion here but i will leave it because it seems dishonest to remove it. "seems dishonest" is a personal mass that must be returned to. Not here. 

just paused blogging (ha ha, typed "writing this" then deleted and replaced with "blogging"  :) )because i wanted to attend to several facebook messages

God i feel so good and i was in the peak of it feeling hesitant about describing at all, Feeling some grained blockage now, like blood being drawn and sitting solidly in a thin red line in the tube , not moving much... Feel that the peak of the feeling is coming out through my face, which has two fields of heat lateral on either cheek

Was happy, noting it, there was a length today of happiness, quickness, the chemical magic of self, charisma, honesty , an absence of blockage or insecurity, just action, speech, communication, "with"

With IB and Emily

Me, Va

(just now) Deleted P go, X, resolved to not go on r/, deleted google chrome (3:39 Am) because was tired of vaulting over the depthless space between browsers, deleted new and latest twitter account, some small and dull relief, then went to E’s I and EXT Gorm, had a mentally verbalized “miniature heart attack”, S, G, E + B on bill, an iterative newly traumatic and not even pointed or autonomous urge.. No intention… Typing is feeling more clarified and immediate and truer (though could be from the friction and “stoppingness” of BIC roundstick pen) than writing did earlier… no longer even feel any evil or transgressiveness from reddit or nucleic individuals, twitters, it all seems just kind of barely stimulating or dark and more just lightly lightly funny unpowerful and nothing (/3:39Am) (Returned to just now) and back to the kind of depression that feels totally meta/static and banal to even describe, evades description, (Wed mar 9 2022 4:01pm) in work I am reading now and feel incredibly drawn to but also despise on some level and feel like is not what I want my work to be, what I want writing to be, it feels un-lovely banal and ironic and sad, it makes me depressed for sure, at the same time I feel a sort of loose connection or un-connection coming from relating to things that come from feeling un-connected to others, relating to feeling unrelated and loose in the world, “lost in the world” Kanye west, like a naked ape clothed and then set outside among other apes, like I must cut myself down, but I have put that thought somehow on the back-burner when it was my main thought for weeks, and the arbiter of the anti-thought is I suspect engaged in the same behaviors she ridiculed in me but yet she ridiculed them and cut them out forcibly out of a goodness and love for me which I unable to see the bigger picture sometimes unempathize with and forcibly disengage w/, her, for a couple of days, talking about elements of the body as if they are detached from the self but also partial indicators or like facets or like bits projectors points of value about the self, attractive prospects about a purchase to be made, that disgusts me and yet I have that framework attached and billowing softly out from some certain deep-cut whorls of the brain for what seems like permanent time (/Wed mar 9 2022 4:01 pm) (Returning to just now) and lives in a constant kind of full body visceral fat or mucus barrier of "i am so depressed" "i am lost" (null) (null) (null) Helpless to time and immediate section of livable time as a kind of widthless and momentary band perpendicular and moving over the continuous passing ribbon of time past and time future as the present which is only a brief and stolid window opens and seems to depend totally on the amounts allocated to the bordering sections immediately before and after which result in an immanent and set and permanent unchangeable consequence

Future being that consequence, being the result of inaction or the wrong action or the incorrect allocation of time, "scheduling"; i was faced with the need for correct action today / yesterday and felt helpless against time, against impending end of visit home and return to "real life" real life being the game i play in unkind, recursive panic in new york, so rescheduled/removed/by removed i mean moved again this one band across the ribbon and created more current and unmarked time and seemingly pushed away the emergency of friendly upkeep (which true and weighty meeting with the Other seems to sliver into upkeep the more i am unable) that seems required immediately post-return/resumption/ rejoin

I have lost the power of rejoinder

I seem hidden from me or perhaps dead

Seems dramatic

When drinking is good it is an accretion of relief, of a sort of unclean and gaseous cushion back brain-ward

When it is bad it is a neutral and increasing but inactive surplus substance or not neutral and making me more nullified, or angry

Today (same day 3:- Pm) i have replaced "delegation" with "allocation" which is a better word, and have reread my old blog posts, and felt a phantom but convincing "proof" that i "used to be better at writing" that some kind of ruination has taken place and i am now awash, mean, suspended, in virginia which on the highway laterally imposed w/ 3-pronged capital one building new all truist banks and edelman Appian  i was thinking , I was raised in the cradle of all american evil

Cannot even tell if i am positively oriented. it seems that my pocket system may be obliterated, or wounded. all this atomized information and it remains in droplets unencoded outside of me and inaccessible to 

Me

HAQQ/HAJJ, Receiver

 10/30/23 2:50 AM

Returning to myself, on the way to AM today got off the R in bay ridge then on leftward wall of the car dealership left to me was a series of regular staggered blue-white lights, i looked up at the 1st one and received a fine mist of rain coming down in discrete lit dots as if all small pocketed units of weather and light suspended in /  \ shape downward three dimensional widening and beautiful walking not stopping looking up at each dealership light shining downwards i would receive the same spray, not 'spray' which seems too immediate ugly and contained but the continuous and moving current as in spray spread over time, molecules binded and coming in the unstopping and ceaseless capsule experience of one section of current witnessed. Each light and each visible iterative mist enacted a lit and contained extension of the feeling that i felt at the first. which was a white and happy wonder. this is something i have probably not felt since i went to california and since i have come back with a kind of scale or shade lowered over vision and spirit which has been a bleak, considerable dimming

It was not just a feeling but a kind of seeing and the feeling that is exacted in measured, translated temporal response of the immediate description action which is optical lensing action of visual information

I am a creature operating in thought and consideration, thought and consideration which provide me with joy and esteem, thought/consideration/joy/esteem system (self) which has been wounded in these few weeks, but i feel tonight that i am returning to myself, not in the paradoxical locking to physical and medical body that i have existing in alongside a great and sad distance from the actual:: me

I do not think i was or am actually the guilty party in either situation

Pain from schism in reconciling or preparing to reconcile something which maybe can flap open for now, beginning and extant now, allowing for trust broken and dissolving, necessary alchemical change,self reliance that does not forego/reject need/care of others, need but not needy desperate unconfirmed circumscribing seek,

 ing of an unconnective and unfaithful 

Thu Nov 2 2:06 AM

Return to those of center, i.e. ÁAM,J, C, S, K ETC.

To be heard

by accessing ths blog slotting into place how recent the patches of  my consciousness and mood and sense of self memory set carried are and how short, gassy

Saw D and M today and didnt tell them of my news and didnt feel the need to like there is no point in just sacking it all out sachering it all out or spidering it, im glad ive told the people i've told but now i felt "curdling" feeling, confused or else old buzzing and empty slaught of stacking needs, need stacking all the way up into one tall teetering intention -less tower, just needing outwards and nothing will in fact emphasize or build on the news and now time to turn back to the novel, Drinking not a fun answer or a solid one but just a known quantity, it is known where it will go, what will become ofme, what girlish sliver is left to flake silvery through streets drunk, Not to quantify but some people feel better to be around than others, there is lack of a self-conscious/painful falsity around those who "we are the same", early dubbing of "Friendship", what troubled me, jokey bracketing of perceived similarity in meme-transfigurative empty speech, i despise that, i sent my story just to impress, wht is that impulse.... Feel ashamed of that impulse, note (i note) the missing I, I do want S to read it though, though.there are some where it feels the reaction is subpar or missing probably because i did not want that reaction in the first plac,e, did not need it, I work on my novel, i act and believe i am more insecure than i am, things trouble me and i am unsure why though i know why and have come to conclusions as to why before, Keeping myself..

feel pretty good right now feel glad and feel that the day fizzled out a little in non-control then Upswing somewhere in K pizza

 

 Italicized Mon Oct 30 1:24:34 AM as Demarcator of Time

<3, truly, it is A/OK

Watched Nenette et Boni w/ a new friend

Watched this at the shimmery near-close of a weekend of historical friendly symposiums, friendly as in "relating to friends", relating to friends as in the happiest and most beautiful action, felt a curious and generous re-turn of old earth and old curvature of planet but this time with new knowledge, felt verbal and lush, sentimentary and sedimental, walked back across the bridge, this time totally sober minus kava and imminent earl grey, twin pots at Martha's country bakery (MARTHA: WHY WOULD YOU SAY THAT NAME: IT'S HIS MOTHER'S NAME:: so i see the weaving and recurring of this weekend's semiology: which is funny and pleasant), new friends and old lovers which i once walked across the same bridge with, i typed up at the time: we were walking across the Williamsburg bridge together, it was so good, like this would never end, I was incredibly talkative and not embarrassed and interesting, he peed on an M train which was silly but funny and I also peed on one of the intersects between the long two forks of the bridge, he was looking at the wall of the bridge and trying to align the pattern of the net (?) with the bar and feeling good when it aligned, was drinking a 40oz of coors light which I had just had my own tall boy of coors light, discarded on the bridge, then we came back to my apartment and immediately went to my room, we went to bed and he held me tightly...bleak and sad about “what is this all for,” time continuing on, more now just the reminder or shape of the specific feeling and depression I have about time continuing on, not being able to stand it, feeling so dim and meaningless and impossibly trudging to live through and continuing...he wanted to hang out afterward and came to my apartment w/ me (inconvenience) then took his contacts out and next morning had to go home to put in new contacts before going to work again (more inconvenience, seems like proof he likes me/wants to continue seeing me/I mean something to him)...today I felt sure that that is all some dim flicker of illusion, I am again on the carousel of myself in my head, like, wheeling around these thoughts and thought patterns which are damaging and untrue and projected, but then I also have these moments of what seem gleaming and good or which seem to swing wildly or largely in the other direction

Now (Mon Apr 3 12:46 AM) I remember on friday cherishing more than the old lovers these new friends and old friends all continuing and washing across my wall in orange runs of light, i felt very happy, i feel happy today, there will be no kickback for this, no twist in the feeling no tensile weakness which will snap back and form sick emotional recoil, this is no poisonous "good" which requires proof, confirmation, and Going to Retrieve and Recollect. No swings, wildly. I am not drunk tonight. B went to see about a cat today, I am very happy for her, my brother sent me a photograph of some kind of dead bird, i came home happy to see J with her hair wrapped sweetly up and back so she could wash her face, I received heartening missives from G, I will see other friends this week, keep writing, read the books I just bought, I type this very sincere, nervous but ready, in my comfortable and warmly-lit room, seeing a way forward

Update as i un-ail

sickness which seems like a shocking un-ruching and loosening of time, always seeming like some kind of emergency that cannot be come back from, in time, a deadening that since 2020 now seems conjugal with some kind of debt or shame

Seems like a dumb decorative arch over the next few days which cannot be broken or recovered from, until the recovery happens - just took 30ml Nyquil, waiting now for the sensation of gentle wombing out dark sweet/solitary/dead succinate sleepspace, saw Domino with good people who i will call friends, called my brother walking home who with soft open voice told me about his ceramics, felt that i loved him in a very clear and true patch of feeling and told him so, noted that i need to stop feeling so hunted, i am not hunted, no one has been hunting me, need to let go of old canine hunted/ugly The quarter that domino takes and the quarter given back to her by tom Charon waits in the circling desert spiral to top of stratosphere tower Highest point on the strip "we are at 420 feet now and still getting higher" Heads is you live tails is you die Heads is you eat sleep wake up smoke cook walk go to work drink go home from work tap to pay Tails is you flip the quarter and place it over your left eye to fix your astigmatism right eye open to see the sideways horizon line rising left now half-sunk into the afterlife Heads is you

Tired of this pretty dumb little binary prose framework now

Same theses as always there is one unwinding and ongoing and complete thesis

Day by day i must keep the film and the novel pinned anterior in my vision. They are what i care about. Here we go: the balance

Other people, the film, and the novel

And the slow subdermal rhythm (current) of reading the guermantes way

It was getting a little dire

 then i thought: here is the pattern

1. Invitational impetus , to invite possibility of unwanted and currently dormant heterosex in favor of the frenzy, which is calling for sustenance
2. Devoiding the self of own needed alimentary sustenance
3. Feeling paranoid and hating and fearful and resentful and, outstretched and recoiled inward both, w/ itch at the center 
4. Having had calm, nourishment, space, activation, then rest from the activation, time to sit with the self and know what needs to be done, to be made, written, and cut - And all of this frenzy and thought loop a kind of avoidance tactic

Proust is right

Every day is a series of successive sensations and feelings and patch by patch i am differing at 10 pm from 8 pm and now at 1:04 am again different simply about to rest and then wake up and go to flushing to see my father and brother

It is all ok, they are loving and good, she is loving and good, and she is loving and good, and i too

though i have begun, according to some sources, affecting a "brooklynite style vocal fry drawl"

My father is totally honest, he is what he is, says what he says, and has no ulterior or duplicitous self. I told him i would join him at the comedy cellar. and he said, That would be great. and meant it. To bounce this back and take the oppositional natural reaction to this and decide - take things as they are. As they are meant. They are probably meant. it is not up to you to guess what shadows are shifting behind the glass