W.Reed

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Illogical, incomplete, in contempt, unable, exaggerated, uncooperative, failure to produce, below threshold, exceedingly anxious, phobic

"Every moment of one's existence one is growing into more or retreating into less. One is always living a little more or dying a little bit. "

-Norman Mailer

W.Reed

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Having a conversation with my very good friend lead us to a quote that really, really mortified me in how well it summarized every aspect of society -- We live in a Junkyard culture. There is nothing further to elaborate on or try to allude to. It is a complete way of describing everything around you. Creatively bankrupt people have completely taken over every aspect of society and marginalized it into this complete awful allegory of consumerism and lack of depth.

It's a completely rudamentry aspect of society that lurks and manifests itself entirely around the notions of "Homage" and "Nostalgia". Nostalgia for what? I don't understand this complete inability to look forward enough to see innovation or creativity or anything that isn't based entirely around low-brow or subversive irony. It's this entire notion and fluctuation based entirely around consumerism and the mass manufactured concept of art and culture dumbed down to the point of just spewing out of your mouth whatever the fuck you just read, watched or heard someone else say. The notion of having a single unique thought or concept is so overwhelming to the average person that they simply refuse to acknowledge the possibility by hiding behind the theory of "Everything's been done" I can't cope with everything around me being this completely insane misunderstanding from top to bottom. I cannot speak without having everything misinterpreted to this vaudeville level of absurdism. I'm unable to actually have a cohesive train of thought with nearly anyone around me due to everyone elses insecurities and non-existent understanding of actual non-pretense, everything and nearly everyone around me is so based in subversiveness and pessimism that the simple idea of asking another human being anything is taken not at face value, not at any type of value except whatever the persons inner demons decide to manifest.

Conversing without pages upon pages of pre-meditation is dead and buried forever. Meeting a person outside of societies comfort zone ceases to be, spontaneity has been kicked in the dick by a giant metal boot known as insecurity and we all live in a realm of misunderstanding. No one gets anyone and trying to understand anything except your own garbage will lead you to nothing in life. Free yourself of the pre-meditated shackles gorilla glued to your subconscious and enjoy your worries you'll never understand or fix.

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bleep bleep

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Russell Baker once said "Ah, summer, what power you have to make us suffer and like it."
I agree with this on a level I can't really put into words because I'm neither attractive nor eloquent in any aspect at all, me writing right now is the equivalent of an ape with a horse tooth hairbrush trying to figure out how to give a Flapper haircut. Maybe I'm a really cranky tired old man inside of the body of a sexy 20 something who wears sunglasses occasionally to hide his inner grumpiness. I think I just don't like men in flip flops or men in board shorts. I'm not Kelly Slater and I really have no need for shorts in the summer but I think I'm probably missing the point of Summer, which is to hangout with your sweaty shitty friends and drink beer and talk about how great everything is when in retrospect it's the same shit only it's really fucking hot out.

I think the reason this terrible train of thought came into my mind is due to my recent trip to California, I mean the weather is perfect. People still wear pants with bottoms to them and I don't have to see a grown man dressed like a child going to learn how to boogie board only in public. The people have this really uncomfortable sense of emptiness to them -- They're all incredibly nice, helpful and they seem to be genuinely kind but I just see this almost empty blankness behind their eyes but there isn't the New York pretense behind it, the person isn't wearing an outfit of pure irony and absurdity to create an allegory of intellectuality and merit; they just seem empty? I mean I don't know if I'm misinterpreting non-pretense for lack of a soul but it's just really a different aspect of humanity that I've seen. Growing up in New York jaded me to a lot of things and caused me to be this miserable cynic without any shred of benefit of the doubt for other people around me and I think going to California really made me understand that yes, people do have an agenda but that agenda doesn't necessarily mean that they're going to slash your throat in public to gain something. It just means that they're focused and ready to make the moves that the majority of us aren't willing to do... Yet.

I really liked just walking around the city especially along Melrose and just seeing old guys dressed as literal photocopies of Brett Michaels but without any shred of pretense, it's so refreshing to see that shit. They still have their unbearable LA hipster types in the fedoras and Neo-Surrealist styled clothing courtesy of Jeremy Scott. I still think they're a lot better than the cunts in tight jackets that lurk Brooklyn and the Lower East Side but I'd rather funnel hot tar into my asshole via a hazard cone then try to talk to one of them while they reconstruct William S. Burroughs to you. I'd love a hot chocolate right now.

W.Reed

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"Do you not know that there comes a midnight hour when every one has to throw off his mask? Do you believe that life will always let itself be mocked? Do you think you can slip away a little before midnight in order to avoid this? Or are you not terrified by it? I have seen men in real life who so long deceived others that at last their true nature could not reveal itself;... In every man there is something which to a certain degree prevents him from becoming perfectly transparent to himself; and this may be the case in so high a degree, he may be so inexplicably woven into relationships of life which extend far beyond himself that he almost cannot reveal himself. But he who cannot reveal himself cannot love, and he who cannot love is the most unhappy man of all."

W.Reed

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I have nothing to show for myself except waste and pestilence and an overwhelming feeling of exempt. I'm living a linear life of fundamentally bankrupt routine filled with zero substance, culture, motivation and equality. I'm filling myself with more superstitious bullshit and more hope for guidance from something that I really don't know anything about yet. I'm trying to find meaning in shit that doesn't have meaning or even an ounce of a chance of having meaning. I don't even know what I'm trying to process right now but this is a completely awful train of thought thats making me want to hit myself with a baton really hard. I really would like to hit myself with huge blunt objects to see if it'll maybe give me a pattern of thought that doesn't make me feel nauseous when I'm sitting up at 3:20 in the morning reconstructing my day and having a panic attack when I think about the word I mispronounced to a complete stranger that I'll never see again or, how I cannot even come close to gripping my own stupidity and complete false sense of self-worth. This is my own cocoon of queasy.

W.Reed

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I have a million little stories and ten thousand aspects of humanity to share with the non-existent masses. Show me your bones and I'll show you a disgraced vocalist

W.Reed

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this image summarizes everything that goes through my head







I want to hide someone from the police in a secret compartment of my home maybe
the attic or maybe a hidden room that has a generator and a small tv and lamp
to give the person a decent quality of life instead of having to lounge around
in the dirt or in a cave like others have to when they're evading the police
or vigilantes.

I like to read Grouphug.us and try to picture
what the person looks like -- i'll give an example:

Confession
482953525



"when i masturbate i have fantasies that are bad or weird. im not sure if its
just because im bored with everything else or im just a sicko. I dream about
orgys with a moose and a turtle and i rub my vag with all of my stuffed animals.
It really turns me on. I want to have sex with creepy and strange old men and
i want to have sex with a transvestite. I'm not sure if i should fullfill these
fantasies in real life or if I would even be able to go through with them. Maybe
if i go through with them then i will get over them, or maybe then ill be bored
with those fantasies and think of sicker ones. am i a perv? is this normal?"



this person seems like they'd look like this:





am i rite or am i rite

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bloop blooop

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I'm sick. I have the flu. I'm going to canada soon. I'm lonely, I have no hair in the middle of my head and my urine is murky. I'm pretty sure I'm dying. Does anyone want my next generation gaming console once I die or should I bury myself with it

W.Reed

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I wish I knew more about Jazz. I think people who are really into Jazz are cool. I wonder what it's like to wear those glasses that have sunglasses attached to them that you can flip up when you're indoors and sunglasses are inappropriate, I bet people who wear those are really into Jazz and can tell you about percussion and things of that nature.

I wonder what people into Jazz smell like - I bet it's very musky and sensuous like a scented candle or a warm barrel.

I saw two guys driving bicycles earlier and one of them almost took a nasty spill in a storm drain but at the last minute he totally dodged it and I gasped for air and praised the heavens to know this unidentified gentlemen would live to bike another day!

Thats it, go away.

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THIS RECORD FUCKING SUCKS

W.Reed

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I haven't taken a photograph in nearly a month and a half. I have no desire to do anything but get out of bed and hit myself in the face with a pipe. I don't know where I am but I know it's cold and my arm and leg hurts which means a storm is brewing. I wish I knew how to change the emoticons on the CuteNews software I installed. I wish I wasn't full of beans all the time and I have bills to pay and I ain't talkin' about a ducks mouth.

I'd love to find a pair of dark blue navy loafers with tassels, but I can't. Theres no way I can afford this watch:


because it's $21,000. I'd love to find a place to buy wonderful luxurious Cravats and Neckerchiefs, but I can't.


I can't really do much of anything, eh?

W.Reed

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I sleep upside down, I don't know sign language, I have a pet but it's in a different world, I'm unfamiliar with the term unfamiliar, I've never been capable enough to crush a fully inflated Football with my bare hands, I eat fluently with chopsticks and never make the common linguistic error of calling them "chapsticks". I think Poland is a great word but not a great place, but they have a lot of malnourished men there which would make it great for me because I could beat everyone up and take whatever worldly possessions they have. I still don't "get" people who aren't down with the clowns and I simply love to dance

W.Reed

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who really believes homosexuals exist? give me some proof. I've never seen one in the real world and I'm starting to believe this is an illusion by the Mindfreak Criss Angel.

W.Reed

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