Saturday morning missed buses and trains out of town and a Friday night that left me with no real reason to flee.

But you were wrong about me.
You were wrong about me.

How deep did I go? How numb can one person get?

Hello Toronto, let's get down.
So I think I'm dying, or I have parkinsons or one of my body, soul and mind is rejecting the two remaining elements, or I need to lay off the Indian food for a while, or some combination of the above options. I feel like complete fucking physically negative shit. The twitching... muscle spasm-ing is happening more frequently, much more frequently in the past couple days, and frankly it's starting to freak me out a little. I'm starting to notice a few factors in the twitching increasing, or in the case of this weekend, rising to a disturbing delirium tremen level at a family dinner. Lack of sleep, crazy stimulants, alcohol, withdrawl from those two, temperature change.... and maybe some psychological factors.

I know that our subconscious minds, and probably our post-conscious minds are very active in colouring our physical condition, emotions, mood, aura, interactions... pretty much everything. And outside positive and negative social and socialemotional forces have a huge fucking effect, on some people more than others. Sometimes I'm a big fucking ball of emotional osmosis. Not as much anymore as I used to be... Another one of the ways we harden as we grow up. More worldly and open yes, but also more protective of my own oil on canvas mood mural... subtle tones of fragility and wonder fill the space and drip onto the floor.

Yes, I know post-conscious isn't really a thing, in the sense of things being things, and things being what they are... It's a new term i just invented just now... so if you're not familiar, it makes sense to me, so don't worry about it, ok? And before you fucking text me about it, I already know that I throw "post" around a lot as a prefix... And yes, I understand the semantic irony implicit in "post"'s use as a prefix.

(Ha ha! Words are my friends. Streetcar, Tylenol Ultra Relief, Full-Throttle Energy Drink, Five Star 3'x5' Notebook, Words - you guys are all on my Christmas card list)

Along those lines, yes, I know socialemotional isn't really a real term either, in the sense of a term being a linguistic element, not an end-user-defined temporal unit, and end-user-defined temporal units being what they are. But I believe we communicate with our emotions as well as our words and our actions. Communication works like this. I think. Bear with me:

If the communication an action, it will be interpreted into language.
Linguistic communication is an expression of intent or emotion, in some form of one or the other, and is interpreted as such.
Emotional communication... Is something that I'm working slowly on trying to understand... But emotional communication is non-verbal, does not involve an action or a gesture, and is fucking crazy to try to comprehend, but it exists, so fuck you. Somehohw, through the powers that are present in this universe, and between all of us, emotions are transmitted and received and it sometimes we know it's happening but most of the time we don't. There are many different levels and degrees of emotional communication, but that's a whole different blog entry.
Emotional communication is interepreted, if you can, and absorb it, as pure MEANING.
And meaning is fucking cocaine for your mind/spirit/body value meal.

Alright, I had somewhere I intended on going with this entry when I started it... That clearly got lost along the way. And I'm not sure what I found instead. Anyways, the plan is to not feel like junkie shit tomorrow. So no indian food. Simple, mayonnaise-based dishes are the order of the day. And possibly pitas. Probably pitas.

Flip the switch and let the words drip, let them fall out and pool and puddle together into what ever the words themselves desire.

Please send money,
Sanchez

----- IN LOVING MEMORY OF CALVIN JAMES COLES -----
"We know you're watching over us little buddy"

Alright, sit down and listen. Common language is now officially post-grammar. Grammar is fun and everything, but it's relevance to the average person right now is on a "know-your-cuts-of-meat" kind of level. Knowing language rules is like being able to match the McDay to the McDeal. Interesting, sometimes useful, but ultimately, honestly, pretty fucking useless. A couple years ago people were getting all freaked out about the evolutionary path of our language... Given that language naturally conforms to the rules and nature of the dominant medium in which it is used... hold on, did I lose anyone? I think i lost myself there, tripped over the thematic thread running through this paragraph - Ok we're back. ...naturally conforms to the the rules and nature of the dominant medium in which it is used, everyone was like "Whoa, the internet is going to fuck up our speech and spelling!!" Well no. Didn't happen. People aren't dropping lol's and brb's into their usualy discourse and vowels haven't been added to the endangered species list (here's some now, just to prove how abundant they are, that i can waste them like this: aeiousometimesy raaaaaape meeeeeee).

The fact is this: I understand what you're saying, even if your grammer is all fucked in the face. Yeah i know grammar inside-fucking-out... i know my grammar better than i know performance athletic apparel for fucking sakes. And I have lucid dream conversations with animated pieces of performance athletic apparel. Btw you should never start a sentence with a conjunction like that. And don't be sad, oh no don't cry dear it's not that bad. This isn't the decline of the english language. This is the way the language is going to be in today's (buzzword warning) multicultural, media-driven, marykateandashleyolsen global village. Oh dude i feel really dirty after letting those terms out into the bloggosphere. Ewwwwww typing blogosphere didn't help.

K check it here's the upside. Are you still listening? Do you have soothing music on? Might I suggest the "Lovers" album by The Sleepy Jackson? I might. Dude, this is an age of magical potential for linguistic innovation. We're talking, like, a litter of puppies being breastfed by a teenaged Pierre Berton level of magical potential. Notice how many words have been made up recently? All the fucking time new ones are appearing. The lines between parts of speech are dissolving. Try it for yourself: take your favourite noun, use it as a verb! Wasn't that fun! Use someone's name as a verb! An adverb! Whatever! Let your participles dangle! Dangle it out there for everyone to see! It's the nineties bitch! Dope homies are dropping prefixes and suffixes all over the shizzle!

What are your favorite words? Want to have fun with them? Let's have a nice chat.

The Notwist + Themselves = 13 & God

At points I had to close my eyes because I could more comfortably understand the music as a disembodied, sourceless dark force eminating from the speakers than as the live creation of the five people onstage.