Sunday, July 19, 2009

Spelling Errors Are For Loveres - or - Five Minutes Alone

There was an exercise that I used to do in elementary school called “free hand writing” where for 5 minutes you just wrote and wrote and wrote, and didn’t stop, even if it meant writing “I can’t think of anything to write,” over and over and over. I haven’t done this type of thing since elementary school, and because I have about five minutes until my friends get back from seeing the Flaming Lips, I’m just going to write. I’m not going to edit or clean up mistakes, so it might get ugly. I’m not going to erase sentences that I don’t want to finish, so some ideas might just end. I’m not going to have any rules or flow or subject brainstorming, I’m just going to write. It could get ugly.

5, 4, 3, 2, 1

My name is something of a mystery. Not a big one, you could ifnd it if you really wanted ito byut that wouldn’t be much fun now would it. I might tell you beuctt but don’t get rour hopes ups. I don’t tell people my name unless I can see them in the real world. I’ve lied to people on the phone and craigslistabout by what my name is. At one point, I was getting rid of everything I own because it wouldn’t tif into my new life so I posted a :Free Crap For Sale” posting online. I got a lot of calls for sometone that wasn’t me, Rodney, but I knew exactally why that person wa s calling for Rodney, they wanted free stuff. I remember having a large balck woman and her son sifting through my assorment of pots and plants, while three college kids were pulling my huge couch out of my living room and a couple whas checking out some metal wire frame chairs that might look good on my patio. Their patio. I didn’t know the names of anyone of these people and they were the tail end of a streem of people that I had let into my apartment to take my stuff away from me on pourpose. I was left with a bunch of crappy lamps and s sense of aquired emptiness that you can only get mby giving away things that you didn’t necessarily want to give away but had to because they didn’t fit and you didn’t want to ask for help getting them down the stairs to the dumpster out back. The large black lady and er son were my favorite because they maticously gave the once over then the twice over to plants and pots that no one would think twice or three times about. They eventually just took them all and I think the kids name was Jordan. I gave him a winter hat because it was cold and he didn’t have a that hat and I figured that he needede one, since he took so much time looking at all my empty pots and then finally taking them all. I just can’t stop writing if I sopt then the walls in my head win and thay is the death of sudden creativity. I have always been fascinated by magnets, and I think that … I don’t want to think about magnests. I woneder if there is a hidden truth to typing as fast as hcayou can aiwth out editing. I wonder tha if it.. I wonder if I typed about love if I could finggure something out that I haven’t knonws I ve known all along. Fguck now my phon is rwringing byt I ‘n mot fsoting to rstopr because of the=soe damn tifieve five minute awalls. I like to think of my hands as a whirlwind right now, tiying themselves into knowts trying to keep up with my brain but obviously having a better time making sense of the world because I keep running out of thoughts and my fingers are just barley wbehind my mind. There havs got to be some kind of truth hidden in fastn thinoughts. I just and too wondu up in hitting the right keys and getting the sentences out to stop and let a an idea flow out. I don’t know much about myself, I just know how people react to me when I am how who I am and sometimes I think that tthat is me, people’s reaction to who I am, but I should know better., Peoples reaction to me is just their impringt of me against what they knowabout everyon else and how I compare to everyone else they have ever meat. That’s why no one cane be trusted, because you knowdomnt know where’ they have been. Is that truth or just dmadnees?

Five minutes.

The phone call was my friend and neighbor two doors down from my apartment. We are going up to the roof to drink in lawn chair. I love everything about what just happened for so many reasons.


  1. I will admit, kinda hurt my brain trying to figure all the out. You should run with your idea to just type, uninterrupted, about love. Or any other subject for that matter. Sometimes when you let your mind wander, you discover things about yourself. ^_^

  2. Dude, I don't know if you noticed, but that was wicked-full of typos. There's red marks all over my screen.

    LOL :D

  3. It's truth Squatch. You know and understand yourself best.. but don't bother, you still don't fully understand yourself. There is only one way to find out about love and about yourself, and that is by tests from reality. Nothing spewing from your brain will give you any real insight as to what you're capable of or who you are. Only time and environment can do that. There are some hints, and we need to transform our environments to help pronounce those faint cries coming from within ourselves speaking of our belief systems (or value systems)... the thing we most need out of life. <-- Now THIS is madness Squatchy. And look at my arrogance.. makes me teary eyed. You're probably wiser than me in so many, many ways, and without question in the subtleties of life. You already probably know this.. but the shit I typed is really the low hanging fruit of the truth tree. All people who lose considerable bias will see it clearly. You like that hot air blowing up your ass... yea.. yea, I knew you would.

    I think I know your real name because you mentioned it in one of your vids.. maybe accidentally; and it co-incidentally happens to be the name of my could be future brother-in-law, so I won't forget it. I won't mention it. My lips are sealed and my penis skin is unwrapped.