it began with ping-pong,
& somewhere
wedged in there,
there was a bald israeli named nimrod passing through,
shots of jagermeister & mexikaner
a girl on the floor of a punkrock bar
& a guy
giggling maniacally about the fact that he’s willing to blow
every last cent
in his wallet in order to get everyone at your table as drunk as is humanly possible.

another bottle of champagne,

(sunrise in berlin)

out of bed
the next afternoon
wasn’t the easiest of tasks,
to say.


The Hoarding Horde

i never feel like more of an alien than i do when i’m walking through a flea market. i look at all the people crowding the tables, sifting through picture frames, lamps, binoculars, old clocks, toy trucks, picking up dishes, pulling out chairs and giving them a test-ride, so forth, poring over china, crappy paintings, etc.
i do not get it.
when i moved to germany, i came here with nothing
but whatever i could stuff in a backpack.
since then, i have attained a few books, a couple more pieces of clothing, and a printer. everything else just seems like clutter to me. i don’t wanna think about picture frames, i don’t wanna have to contemplate binoculars, toy trucks or old clocks.
but sometimes i look at people contemplating these things and i think,
“wait, maybe they’re right.
maybe desiring after little semi-useless possessions
is healthy
and sane. maybe there is some charm to it,
some magic in the items themselves.”
then i remember socrates.
there’s a story about how he was barefoot and walking
through the athenian marketplace. he stopped
suddenly, shook his head as if in disbelief.
“what is it, socrates?”
asked the guy that was with him. “i just can’t believe,” said socrates,
“how many things
there are in the world that i just don’t want.”

i concur.

(fuck things. fuck the need for them)…

Some Random Thoughts…

*People are much more interested in the artist than the art itself.
Hence the need for persona-cultivation
& the reason why people like Hunter S. Thompson crop up…
He never had much in the way of the word, but he was willing to play the monkey for the crowd.
of course, he forgot who he was and turned
into one.

*Art should lead a person up into the light, not drive his face down into a dungpile and keep it there.

*Praise and admiration
are like tanning lamps.
The light is false and will burn you eventually.

*Happiest is he who needs the least.

*The most fascinating nightmare
on the face
of the earth is the human face.

*You’ll never placate Time.

*The waking world is primarily a lie.

*Crazy people see everything. Even what’s not there.

*Not much scarier than a Christian with ammo.

*I didn’t choose to be a writer; being a writer chose me.
I didn’t choose to move to Germany; moving to Germany chose me, etc., ad infinitum, and on and on…