The Monster is Zero.

I'm beginning the second part of my life: the output stage.Besides listening to music I dont take in a lot of art at the present moment. I'm more focussed on my own voice--that which is at once intimate and projected, created and cast-out......returning as an echo from across the universe (void).But I was sick and didn't have the energy to write, so instead I bought a magazine and a couple of

c-span

im floating out on a sea of hot sick...curled up and feeling like shit with c-span on. in a way it's like the first blog ever--and in a way it's better than a blog cuz it's tv--a stripped down, old skool tv with the single, steady cam and no commentary or editing except at the end when callers call in...as the fever fades me in and out (blissfully thankful it's not e.coli or something worse) i

my innernet sux the obstacleness out of the obstacle

mornings are when im most vulnerable.(double negative)by posting that statement, however, in the morning, on a sunday no less--i manage to remove it as an obstacle--It's still there, before me, except the act of broadcasting it has made it smaller and less significant.It's as though the fence i've been planning all this time to bulldoze has deflated right in front of me, falling limply to my feet