aTx
they smoke weed
in their backyards,
keep austin weird
on their compact cars,
bad haircuts,
tattoo sleeves,
indie rock,
&
black
blue jeans.
my content including some of my old features will be making the move to surrealisticsharks.wordpress.com. feel free to follow.
-CR
they smoke weed
in their backyards,
keep austin weird
on their compact cars,
bad haircuts,
tattoo sleeves,
indie rock,
&
black
blue jeans.
wear their vintage clothes
out on friday nights,
whiskey dive bars
pocketful of lights,
at friend’s
live shows with
their backstage pass
dr pepper
&
a double jack.
they paint abstract
in the nude
eat lucky strikes
&
vegan food.
take coffee breaks
at the cafe,
&
they say:
we’re weird
but they’re all the same.
i’m tired.
it’s this scene
&
this house
&
this mouse.
this music, this whiskey,
&
these spent cigarettes
soaked in broken
longneck bottles.
these half-hearted
wannabe hippie
nicotine dreams
all ashes now,
because we’ve got
this pet mouse here in rip city
who burned down our house
that we always called james dean
&
it wasn’t his fault really
but i’m actually kinda glad
because it’s time for me
to get the fuck out of Portland.
Check out this bit of 8 bit goodness. Covering some songs from Rivers Cuomo’s outfit. If you’re not convinced this is worth your time, check out the intro to Island in the Sun.
-CR
tequila notebook {4}
i saw those blinking lights again last night.
i had seen my stalker again earlier down by the swimming pool. she had been at the hole in the wall too. she was an american & had bleached blonde hair that was pulled back by a pair of designer sunglasses
her roots splayed out looked like mangrove trees. she wasn’t unattractive, so i was content to talk. i understood the thing she had done with her sunglasses.
my hair is long and dirty like a hippies now. i am constantly searching for things to keep it out of my face.
anyways, i had been taking a walk on the nature path near sunset and I was sure that I had seen her again behind me. but it was just a crocodile.
i considered merging with her and the crocodile like I saw once of the cover of the codex seraphianus, but instead I ran.
it was darker now and i was being chased down an incline by a bicyclist with a colt .45 strapped to the side of his hip. he thought I was trying to escape. maybe I was.
he caught up eventually and shot me in the head. i bled all over the brick paved concrete. the road turned red. watusas came by & ate my flesh.
chepogwa took a wheelbarrow & carried me back to the ocean. he dumped my body in the salt. i’m dead now.
i saw the lights. not right before i died but chasing me down the hill. the watchmen here carry flashlights.
i don’t expect i will be writing anymore. it is difficult to procure a pen or paper in the afterlife.
tequila notebook {3}
i’m a party animal. a party animal is soft on the outside, with green gooey innards. party animals drink cheap beer & get sand in there toes. they hit a ball in the air & over a net with a man name gunner who gaurds docked boats.
party animals shells get hard & red in the sun. they leave the beach for the salt. they wish they had gills so they could swim to the deepest part of ocean where the sun cannot reach them.
if party animals had gills, they would swim forever. fish don’t need diesel. they just eat each other.
if party animals could be any fish, though they look most like crabs or lobsters, they would be sharks who die if they stop swimming. party animals want to live without boredom. they want to kill themselves if they are standing still.
but even party animals must hibernate. when the sun goes down. then they will notice all the pants & shattered longnecks bleeding green glass in the moonlight.
party animals will see the flaming swords being thrown like a faraway dream. they will be the fish they wanted to be & see silver hooks. they are dumb fish these party animals.
i ate a silver hook, rock hudson. i’m dead now, nanook.
dead like a buffalo.
tequila notebook {2}
mountains are safer than the ocean & the snow isn’t salty.
at the bottom of the ocean there is death & white pearls. at the top of the mountain there is a view & black diamonds. both lack oxygen.
they share that in common.
who would have thought that could keep me awake? after a modest cocktail of tequila, two port royals, & sudafed.
who would have thought i would think about a giraffarig? i saw one in a pokemon strategy guide once. i wanted it to have longer legs then & grapefruits for knee joints. if i ever capture one i will surgically enhance it with leg extenders & new joints. i’ll have to make sure there ripe.
but there’s something blinking, so i think i should go.
remember when you’re in the ocean that squids aren’t always friendly.
