sessions
*Authors Note: Of course all things need revising to make them great and wonderful and grand and essentially the best me i can be. These, however, are unrevised. most of them are outtakes from emails i thought were extraspecial and unpersonal enough that you folk(s) at home could get into them. Which leaves us with the question if the initial writing is more "pure" than the rewriting, assuming pure is writing 100% true to the complexity and rhythms of the writers intention and innermost self. What one may call heavy 2 may call light. These should all be light enough for you. i'll find that other guy who agrees!
(sometime during some weekend of a summer)
sitting sittng sittng.
what did i do today? i woke up. sat around. showered. ate. sat around. waited for my mom's friends from illinois to leave. sat online. looked at the usual sites.... http://www.hotmail.com..https://www.angelfire.com/il/killsane/ https://www.angelfire.com/il/coulditbejulie/ https://www.angelfire.com/il/digicore2001/ http://www.pimprock.cjb.net http://www.morcheeba .net......go downstairs. play drums. play fast angry drums, and slow hiphop drums. play acustic guitar.. write a new song. go downstairs... play other songs... work in new elements... go upstairs.. watch tv.. watch computer.. watch tv. watch stir of echoes.. go online. THAT IS MY DAY. thats all my saturday is and i will never get it back. theres not enough days to spare, but i treat them like they are. sigh on me. but interesting things happen within the day. times where drums play themselves and i sit back and listen. times when my dog sneaks up and eats my pizza when i'm away, but leaves 2 pieces out of the 4 for some reason, times when i sit outside when the weather is always about to rain but never does, and my dogs run around and play and i sit and let the breeze hit me, trying to focus and really see things like leaves and trees, but my vision is generalized and maybe this is what my mom was talking about that got better when she got on medication for depression, but i'm still going to try to beat it on my own, times when i see drapes blowing wind through a window and think " i want to stand in that" so i walk over and watch my ex-jail now child psychologist neighbor, who mediates and spends life at the beach looking and being zen, yelling something at a blue car. he raised his arm when he yelled and the guy stopped his car and backed up. the wind only let me hear some of the words, like "slow down". my neigbor was blocked by a tree. him and his wife were walking thier dogs. they have the mean kind of dogs, but thier dogs are nice. all i can hear is that maybe my neigbor is yelling, or maybe he's happy to see the guy. but then i hear "you should stay out of my way", and the guy nearly gets out of the car. but then he doesn't and he drives away, then my neighbor runs into his house. i wonder why he ran in there... maybe he got his liscence plate. i would have. our streets are so hilly, that i get ready to see another car everytime i approach one. he could have killed him or his nice dogs. i would have hated for that to be the story why i looked out the windows.
stupid ass web page. no one looks. all i do is sit online spilling my thoughts. but usually when you spill there is a stain, or some kind of physical residue. but there is nothing here. even the webpage isn't visited by me. theres 2 links linking here, and both no one really cares about. i write gaint elaborate stream of consiousness emails to let people know whats going on, or to entertain them. sickening. this internet thing bores me. this writing thing bores. me. maybe its my attention span, but the only thing that stays gold is the 2nd to last chapter in the outsiders...
todays topic is about choosing random topics. usually things just start with how things happened in the day, and then perhaps analyzing that they mean, and out of these meanings finding theories and personal ideas about life. but what about a topic out of no where? of course no where would be referring to what freud called the subconsious, because no where seems to be non-existant (because of the 1900's discovery of molecules and atoms). so there is no place of nothing. perhaps space, or a vaccume (millions of miles away from anything resembling light, as not to have an electromagentic spectrum interferrence). but as soon as you approach this vaccume yourself to collect ideas, your being comes into the space. your scent fills the air and your heart beating creates the soundtrack of your colonization of this untouched land. how long would it take for this to fill the air and take over this empty space? whatever this time is is obviously the time it takes to grasp concepts from nothing. what do you think one could grasp from nothing? my guess would be the very title.. nothing. all you could talk about is your own self in relation to this nothing, since thats all we do with other topics anyway. but with the great emptiness ahead of you, it will be the most personal topic ever. but by nowhere, we meant subconsious. and by we i mean us. years of suppressed memories and mumbled ideas float about waiting to be upheaved by a socail catalyst or something to pang the memory. then with things you don't notice now will bring out memories you forgot you had. it seems to be out of no where, but it came from the most important part of you. you will come to terms quickly that the topic has a, currently, untracable source, and start to expand on it. the expansion comes from a learned trick that one develops in life's experiences and literary knowledge gained from both english and long term periods of being alone. The point of it all?!? you ask? WELL, the point is to be consious of as many things as possible around you. if you are not paying attention to it, it is sinking into the tub of your subconsious and you will have to wait for access, if ever at all. if you pay attention to it your bank of knowledge will grow and with enough practice your consiousness will be larger than your subconsious. of course with this ratio you will no longer speak english and have little control over divying your knowledge and perhaps it will be uncontrollable, so of course danger is involved, but not many have gone to this level (if not none at all), so perhaps its worth the risk. then again, if you are able to read this and comprehend it you've already wasted enough life to not be able to start on this task early, but you can always spread the word without words to others. good luck.
lefty walks into a left handed store and someone hands him a plastic hand that is the left hand. lefty asks whos hand is this? and a man in the back,,with his left hand outside a sleeve while the other is buried in his new burlap coat, gives him a hand for asking. he says i've been wondering about that myslef, but have always been to scared to ask. just then the clerk comes over and says, sirs, if you aren't going to purchase anything from the left handed store then i'm going to have to ask you to leave. LEAVE? shouts the man with his right hand in his sleeve, WHY DON'T YOU LEAVE. and then the clerk left. the man holding the plastic hand looks up at the clerk as he walks off and notices the clerk is missing his right hand. as left turns around to look at the other people in the store he notices that no one had a right hand in the store. WHAT IS YOUR NAME the man with his right hand in his sleeve asks, lefty knows the perdicament he is in. he consideres every action and consequence and says MARTIN. the man with his right hand in his sleeve is silent then he says WHY DON'T YOU LEAVE. and lefty left at that. as he walked out he looked at the sign above the store, it said LEFT HANDED ONLY STORE.
lefty considers that the most embarrasing moment of his trip to the mall, and that beat out pulling the drain plug out of the fountain with his left hand thinking it was a super big coin. but no, the LEFT HANDED ONLY STORE was by far the biggest mistake.
Dear Everyone,
Have you ever heard someone or even yourself say the phrase (in reference to a phone) "Dial ____'s number"?
Why would you say such a thing?
i'll tell you why.
Back when phones weren't a collection of concave buttons with ink printed on them, there was a thing called a rotary phone. People would put there fingers in a hole of a DIAL, and twist this DIAL around until they couldn't anymore, creating a pulse of beeps the phone would recognize as a number.
For some reason the noun of DIAL became the verb of DIAL,
Other words like this were changed for some reason (laziness?), like...
-stomach (i can't stomach this song.)
-nail (i nailed a picture frame to the wall with a nail.)
-swing (i'm going to go swing.)
-tie (hey jerk, tie my bowtie.)
-dance (you can't dance this dance with your bowtie untied.)
and so on.
well, whatever the reason they are created, they are accepted. However, if we stopped using nails to hang things on the wall, would we say "Hey lets nail this sticky tak to the wall!"?
Probably not.
So how Absurd is it that we refer to pressing buttons as dialing?
Very absurd.
From now on, we will call it pressing or pushing, or any ACTUAL action you use. As in "Hey why don't you push Jacob's number" or "Lets press Pimey's cell phone instead of his REAL one."
Then again, if you are cool like me, somewhere in your house is a rotary phone. So if you like spending an extra 30 seconds dialing a number, and enjoy using diction correctly, i suggest stealing mine.
Only then can you have ANY RIGHT to say things like DIAL when you clearly aren't doing anything the like.
Thank you for your time.
Christopher James Karner
like if i were to rap i'd say "these rhymes is viscous" and rappers would go "woah, he got educated hip hop stylez of old days" and i'd say "i rocks igneous" and they'd say "what?" and i'd say "uhm.. its a kind of rock."
"like lite rock?"
"uh. no more like light rock."
"didn't i say lite rock?"
"no i mean light like feather-light, not like the rock style"
"feathers don't have lights, they ain't even got batteries"
"no, no, no i mean light like not heavy"
"ya, like lite rock ain't got any of that heavy rock trash."
"i already said i wasn't talking about music!"
"woah! watch your temper! you need to chill out to some lite-rock."
"i'm sorry i got upset, i'm just trying to make you understand that when i said 'rock' i mean the kind like stone"
"like sly and the family stone? brotha, they's funk."
"no! i mean stone like what mountains are made out of."
"aren't mountains made out of dirt?"
"some of them are, but usually those are just hills, because the sharpness and steepness of mountains can't be maintained with dirt"
"oh, so whachoo sayin' is, that light rocks are what mountains are made out of."
"what?"
"well you's babblin' about light rocks, and then talk about mountains, so i figured you meant-"
"no i didn't mean anything like that. i meant that igneous rock is a type of rock that weighs little"
"but shouldn't these ingenious rocks be relative in weight like the rest of matter?"
"ya i meant mass, but my scale isn't in Newtons so i say weight"
"wait for what?"
"weight for a system of a measurement"
"i'm not waiting for any system of measurement!"
"weighting isn't a word."
"well then what'd i just say?"
"i don't know but it didn't make sence."
"well i ain't no change machine."
"Change machine?"
"you said i don't make cents. change machines make dollas into cents"
"and what kind of scents do they have?"
"you know, like quarters and dimes, and nickels."
"quarters and dimes don't have distinctive scents, why would you pay a dollar for that?"
"quarters are worth 25 cents, and dimes are worth 10 cents, whatchoo talkin' about no distinctive?"
"So you're saying its a penny per scent?"
"i didn't say nothin' about a percent! And penny's are worth ONE cent"
"are the scents really worth the penny?"
"i dunno what you talkin' about, but penny's may as well be worth nothin', no one likes them"
"so its worth getting the dollars worth of scents you're saying?"
"Ya, i'm sayin that penny's stink."
"ya i never enjoyed thier scent either."
"you seem like one greedy dude."
"what?"
"how you's all able to not preciate little money"
"like how dimes are little?"
"ya, see what i'm sayin? dimes can get you around."
"get me a round what?"
"can get you around town if you gots enough of them."
"what town is round?"
"maaan, you're in chicago. thats all thats 'round."
"i didn't know it was round, did they do that on purpose?"
"what do you mean on purpose? how could you not know its 'round? you live right in it!"
"oh. sorry. i was just never told."
"man, you are one wierd dude. not knowin' where you are."
"where are we anyway?"
"i don't konw. chris didn't establish that. he just kind of jumped right in."
"where did he jump in? i didn't see anything."
"i mean that he didn't 'stablish nothin except that there's two of us talkin', if even that"
"oh i understand."
