Fireplace bricks and wood grain. Summer day moving trucks. Dimetridon toy flight across the sky. Vigorous aping of hand shaking. Ignored and despised by red hair. Psychadelic posteuring. Liberal back breaking. Lovemaking in the woods thrice daily. Fear and loathing. Ubermensch posteuring. Subcontinental skin and indie rock. Institionalized violence. Ecstatic mangling of limbs.
Im not like a you... at all. Im a little flakier, a little more cynical, a little more like a child. I enjoy things that are difficult to swallow, like 70's punk rock and czechoslovakian animation. I don't really belong to any movements and I don't really feel comfortable as part of a crowd. Lately I've tried to be a bit more 'practical' but I realize that the only two things that I care about are art and love. Really, everything else is working towards those two, and if Im spending more time worrying about money and than I am about how beautiful the world is than Ive lost the game. I also like spicy food... a lot.
Everything written on my journal is copyrights ME, which is entirely meaningless because copyrights are a load of horse shit. There is a reason that the symbol of knowledge is a flame... it can be passed on without diminishing the original. Thus, if you want to use something I have written, let me know and I will say "Yes, you can use that." Thats just the kind of guy I am. The images are someone else's and aren't attributed because I don't give a shit.