Justin Stone's creekbed

songs, prayers, poetry, stories, art, photographs, moving pictures, fondnesses, tall-tales and meditations

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Location: missouri, el paso

The Anterior Insula and Hwy W

Thursday, January 24, 2013

I did not know.

Saturday, January 19, 2013

I did not come on here tonight to announce that I will be opening for Soundgarden on their new tour, reading some of the new poetry, doing some performance art st*ff; that I have been letting the hair grow, bagging up under the eyes, shading over, wrinkling; that this will be kind of a "tent" tour.

I came on here tonight that I might give you my love.

Thursday, January 17, 2013

Department of Nude Jokes

Who is up for a War on Literacy???

We missed it.

Sunday, January 13, 2013

Our erosion into a melodramatic, alarming sameness. Fantasy League Adulthood. Stricken jaw. The vain, the tawdry, the joke without insight. Smile-less laughter. Cringe induction. Department of Bitter Targets. A found note that read: "inexorable march unto oblivion." Doomsday scenarios. Meta worship of worship itself - superficial, temporal things. Desperate grabbings, fear. Successful engines of illiteracy. Memory loss. Unquiet mind. Forced hurry, getalong. Anxiety induction. Overly complex arrangements. Thrash-around spheres. Action without consequence. Control mechanisms. Give us this bread, our daily rebuke. Flat, unforgiving surfaces. Purposeful dimming of the light. Injurious Behavior Sales. Brief, enervating winning streaks. Boredom, apathy. Nihilism and a Half Men. Syndication. Self-Congratulating Individual. Widower-Sized Big Sucks. Soda for water. Ceaseless headache. Awful whim. Burly worm gets the squirm. Flash in the pang. Shortbread tears. Never stretching, never coming to, never activating. Breathless 4:00 AM anniversary. Squandered opportunity. Lily gilding. Fallback modes of anger, madness, disbelief. Inviting the Glowers over for dinner, Brian Junior and Judy. Savagery. So there one might never know. The rage button. Myth of the fist. Those objects running around in your world, making all the weird sounds? Human beings.

Our time together on planet earth. Listen well the world, that you might begin to know.

Dawn. . . the silhouettes way out there on the horizon, moving together - they were laughing, enjoying one another, figuring things out. They were not fighting. We got this wrong and everything thereafter.

The mind too needs a warm home. All the parts come perfectly together. There is no separation between you and it. One can sense this just prior to hurtling past it, forgotten as everything.

Turn from the machine.

Tuesday, January 08, 2013

Nobody wins the game of Doughy Adolescent God.