oh, renoir

nocturne communique/nocturnal e-mission
to traverse the fundamental fantasy

textual relations/e-ruptions
you're like the summer here. you're like the season. you're seasonal. a repository for -- weather. -- and -- whether? and i, maybe i'm like the puzzle and its inverse. it doesn't make sense cuz it's a puzzle and cuz it's unfinished. not doing one thing means you're doing something else. that's why you're rolling strips of paper into spirals: in anticipation of transportation.

in dreams (march)
you keep referring to camps (summer camp) and taylor (the girl with a boy's name) who owes you drugs. grandmother likes my handsome jumper.

i am camping in a tent next to the red carpet. it is raining.

i am living in a labyrinthine space. i want to clean it but i don't own it and hence am reluctant. the man i live with offers me two walls on which to hang all of my photographs.

i receive a text message from someone i know well suggesting that it is weird and we might not know each other so well.

a crank that i turn in private into my chest exposing my heart. air and light and radio waves rush in. no blood comes out.

i am watching a hysterical woman through a hole in the wall. it's fuck and lies. (it's fuck and run?)

an oversize squirrel is eating and foraging for food and it starts following me. along with a familiar forlorn dog. i am cautious of the squirrel cuz i've never seen one of its size or fiendishness and it may be trying to bite me. i am trying to keep it away with an umbrella. i have to go up some stairs in an office building to get to the bus. the dog lives next to me and needs to take the bus home otherwise he will be lost and stranded. i don't let him in the building, however, cuz then the squirrel might get in. also, there is a family of some orthodox religion in the building. they seem nice and warm. i want to alert them about the squirrel, but i'm already through the soundproof glass door toward the bus and don't know how to express myself without words.

LOOK!
daily show - stockholm syndrome
golden girls star bea dies at 86
gossip - heavy cross
informers
josh mcney
morrissey - something is squeezing my skull
carl olof berg
rocky clues from dirty dead stars
size queens - my lover is a body artist
toxic shield snuggle suit
alexander trocchi - a revolutionary proposal: invisible insurrection of a million minds
angry dogs, sex drugs and $880,000 face cream: john waters gives the takeaway a private art tour

LISTEN!
descending ivory
fischerspooner / r.e.m. - fascinating
sonic youth - sacred trickster