exhausted/exhaustive randomness. for today.
these are dark times. we feel energized, eager, the twinkling of technology misting our midst. enron. bush. it's exciting. it's depressing. my name is christian and that is what I look like and I live in a cozy, crunched-together house in downtown austin, texas, broiling and brimming with the crackling sunshine. alone but with pets. it is raining and I see the crooked streaks of lightening strobes. the silver specks I see that fall in sheets across the sky, reflected in my eyes, as I look outwards. pushkin, my parrot, tells me that I'm a good boy. 'you're a good boy!' he exclaims.
'I'm a girl.'
'boy you're a?' he asks, inquisitively, eyes bright. he is on the top of my closet door. this is a picture of pushkin:
pushkin spends much of his time on top of doors, as I float from room to room in my pink and purple crooked-house. I painted every room: my living room is lipstick red, bathroom pink, studio blue, dining room green. my bedroom is purple. holly painted a mural in the dining room:
and anthony painted the kitchen. this is one of the cabinets that he painted:
tomorrow I am going to new york city. and these mess of thoughts, I will try to caramelize, to capture. to ink to the forever.
wry:
content:
anguished:
pagal hai
I play these chords
I say these words
but I do nothing useful to the world
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