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2016 - June


I've got to get out and plant some cucumbers.

We've been growing them in pots inside, and they're growing to be a bit too big for these pots. They're taking a lot of time to water too, each and every day, and it seems like they never have enough no matter how much you give them. Their flowers are bright yellow, mellow with delight, and I wonder if some day they might become cucumbers overnight. :) That'd be quite a sight right? Delightful fruits in green: such a scene that only summer might.

I'd better get out and plant those cucumbers.


The summer's always too intense right now. I meant to write: it's almost too intense right now, but that first formulation applies better. It's like this each year, and it really is a bit too much. The summer itself is not really that bad - I do enjoy a good dose of sunshine and warmth. The problem is our houses, which have no AC; and are not built for the tropical warmth that seems to be sweeping in over Sweden lately. Actually, they're not built for anything at all. They let in cold in winter, and warmth in summer. Bad houses.


I sat down on my chair on a thumb tack,
Man that wasn't fun,
You could even say a dumb act.

I sat down on my chair without looking,
I sat down on the cushion,
Though there was more than one.

The sun outside is right around the bush!
I think I'm living lush,
My skin hurts to the touch.

It's looking a bit red,
But I know I shouldn't dread,
Anything like tan.

Because man -
I bought a ceiling fan, and now it's all a ramble,
I run and then I scramble,

To get strawberry jam!
Saturday I am.


Sitting indoors, looking out. Looking at the world without clouds. Looking out, with a little bit of a pout, because I wish that I was outside instead. But I could be out now! It's not like I'm wed. It's not like I'm in bed. It's not like I'm dead. It's not like I'm in prison. It's not like I'm on meds. It's not like I have voices talking to me in my head. It's not like I'm on parole, and haunted by the feds. It's not like I need rest. It's not like it's a test? Sitting in. Looking out.


Yesterday started so perfectly; I wish today would've started the same. But not all days are like that, and if you end the one day the wrong way, the following day is bound to be worse. I wake up late, I wake up tired even though I wake up late, I wake up stiff even though I stretched before I went to bed, I wake up unmotivated, and annoyed that I wake up late, irritated that I wake up stiff, inefficient as I wake up unmotivated, and unmotivated because I'm inefficient. But hey, I woke up! It's a new day.


For Mom. Newgrounds. Animation. Go check it out.

I haven't been so close to tears in years, such feels it gives it tears me up like the claws of a rearing bear! Such a nice tribute to those who are always there, and mean so much, and always care, though we never really realize how much they mean until they're far away, and we can touch their scenes, only in our minds, there we try to find, something to cure our hearts but it's never the same, as when they're near and can sever the pain. For Mom. Beautiful animation.


I'm waiting on a funeral. It's not today, it's tomorrow morning, but I'm tensed up in preparation already. It's the first funeral I'm attending alone - without family or brethren to back me up, and the first for someone who wasn't family by blood, but close enough.

I'm not looking forward to it, but I am anticipating it. I'm both anxious and somewhat.. looking forward to getting closure. Funerals are never fun to go to, but once you've been there you feel like it was all worth it after all. At least that's how it's felt before. Hope tomorrow's no exception.


Right it out! Fight it out! Light thunder! Like lightning clouds! Ride the lightning! Ride it out! Ride thunder! Like a cloud! Ride the rain! Ride in rage! Rise again! From your thunder cage! Right it out! Fight it out! Light thunder! Like lightning clouds!

And every time the moon twists a fourth, I cough. Every time the world turns me on, I'm off. Every time my notebooks pile high, time flies. I'm sick of sitting idle in disguise, more than a just a while, as morbid time goes by. It's flying, it's dying, it's time out, it's time in.

Horizons, rising. It's time out, and time in. Horizons.


No. 9.

Every time I hear this number I think of the mitochondria beast with this same name. The green giant from Parasite Eve 2. The soldier. The one with the flammable sword. The hunter who keeps appearing on the scene, working for some foreign group you think, until you discover he's the mastermind behind it all. Sort of. It's almost disappointing there wasn't more to it than that, and yet he's apparently one of the most memorable video-game villains I've encountered since the number sets off his memory so easily. Or maybe he's just aptly named. Good game.


I feel I'm going fat again.

Too many days with too little movement will do that to you, and it doesn't really help if you eat too much either.

I've been eating way too much lately, emptying the fridges and cupboards before vacation, and I haven't really noticed I've been eating that much, but when I see how empty the fridge is already, and how many empty glass jars are drying in the cupboard, I can see the results of my eating.

it's really the combination that does it though. The combo of: eating, and not moving. Better move on.


Phew. So another day fumed by. It's a constant feud. I look out and I see my life in the blacklight. In the backlight. I wonder: who's that dude? Did he always use to be so huge? Who IS that guy?

And then I see me. Like the movie Now You See Me. I was gone, now I'm back, like Houdini. Looking in the mirror seeing my face like I see it for the first time... but maybe now's the worst time. I need to get a glass of water cause I'm full with thirst I'm, in need of Fred Durst rhyme. Later.


A new day starts! A Sunday. A day without expectation and pressure. A day on which you do what you must do, but feel no need to do anything more than what you wish for. A day when time flies leisurely, at your own pace, and for once in the week you actually manage to get things done without feeling like it's wasting away, and you a withering beacon of life in this void called world.

I'm eating pancakes for breakfast, and planning for the great day ahead! An hour's passed already; I don't know where it went. Good day.


13th... but at least it's not a Monday.

Or so he thought, as he stood on the vortex of pain and anguish, trapped inbetween dreams like an insignificant little jelly bean... teetering there on the edge, wondering how he'd ever make it past the giant gape of the lions mouth. He bounced back. Rebounded. Recoiled like a train punched by a giant, and then he passed out. All black.

But the thing he really wished for was all blue, wasn't it? How he had been mislead. His dream... foiled, by those mermaids of the lagoon.

Life is a fickle thing.


I'm stuck again. Stuck on the same task. It feels like I've been stuck on it for hours, but I've probably been toggling between a few other ones too. Between tabs. Between tasks. Always moving between things. Zigzagging between responsibilities like a zip liner between check points, though we all know a zip liner is much more fun if it goes in a straight line, from point A to B. Only then can we gain momentum and traverse the void underneath it with great speed, and reach our destination without issue. I guess I'll close some tabs. Time to fly.


I took a bit longer to write my 750 words of the day today than I'm used to. 12 seconds, as opposed to 9 or 10. Wait, I mean minutes. Minutes. 12 minutes, as opposed to 9 or 10.

It might not seem like that big a difference, but if you write for 12 minutes each day instead of 9, add up those minutes over the course of a year, that's 1095 extra minutes I could've spared That's 18 hours!! That's more than I expected!

I'd better type faster tomorrow. 9 might be a bit little, but 10... that's doable.


Dalmatians! Dalmatians everywhere!
Damnation! Damnation everywhere!
Where is life! Where is hope!
What is nice! About dope!
Sacrifice! All you know!
Reach the skies! With a rope!
Can you? Can you? Can you really?

Poodles! Poodles everywhere!
Fools! Puddles of drools!
People sleeping on these trains again,
Just being tools,
But I'm through it all. I am.
I am through.
I am see through, see you me?
I am through see, I am through!

I did my dues, now I'll do,
What I want to

Like write some more words and this will be exactly a hundred. Have a nice night.


The days, the days, the days, the days, the days, the days, the days, the days, the days, the days, the days, the days, the days, the days, the days, the days, the days, the days, the days, the days, the days, the days, the days, the days, the days, the days, the days, the days, the days, the days, the days, the days, the days, the days, the days, the days, the days, the days, the days, the days, the days, the days, the days, the days, the days, the days, the days, the days, the days, the daze...


The daze, the daze, the daze, the daze, the daze, the daze, the daze, the daze, the daze, the daze, the daze, the daze, the daze, the daze, the daze, the daze, the daze, the daze, the daze, the daze, the daze, the daze, the daze, the daze, the daze, the daze, the daze, the daze, the daze, the daze, the daze, the daze, the daze, the daze, the daze, the daze, the daze, the daze, the daze, the daze, the daze, the daze, the daze,the daze, the daze, the daze, the daze, the daze, the daze, the daze, the days...


The days, the daze, the pass by in a rage! Life is still a race, can I pass by that mister whistling in first place? He just keeps going,keep going, never stops to taste, the pies of life (slice a life) or smell the roses so to say...

And the days days days days days days days days days days days days days days days days days days days days days days days days days days days days days days days days days days days days days just keep on going, but I'm not slowing any way. Good day.


It's been a good day today! I went to the movies. I watched Central Intelligence. I laughed buckets, and now I'm finally home, at 10 PM, slowly digging my way through a bowl of oats and applesauce. Not the most delicious dinner, but it's functional. Nutritious, and easy to cook up. Takes less than 10 minutes.

I'm in a good mood today not only because of the movie, but because I'm getting shit done! I'm doing things! I'm getting places in the world! Tough I'm tired as shit, I'm happy too. Today's been good, and I hope tomorrow will follow.


I wonder why.

I had a conversation today, with a stranger: a person I hadn't met before. She asked what I worked with, and I told her where I worked, and why I don't want to work there forever, and was somewhat surprised that she was surprised that I was not content with my job, like everyone is. Is anyone content with their job? When I see other people smile, I feel like they're brainless slaves to modern society. I don't fit. I belong to another age. I belong outside. Maybe that's only the perspective I choose?

I wonder why.


Right on! I mean how could it be wrong? I took the barrow, and wheeled a round, and you know what's up must come down... right? It's just plain logic. Plane logic. Like if I walk through a prairie, you might step in dog shit. And it might annoy you, it might be really obnoxious, but what can you do about it? You can wear shoes! That's what we call: progress.

Me I have nothing to lose. I want to win Monopoly, ever round that I play. I want to play another round, every day that I brave. Year round.


A new day to write a bite. I write a bite. I take a bite. I take a hike. I think I like. To write all day. I keep on going. It's fuel okay? And you can read this. Like modern rap. Like modern trap. Each line a bar. I know I'm not black. But I like this craft. I like the bling. I like fast cars. I like the grind. I like all that. So hiphop to me. It's like a fact. And I'll keep on going. Until I'm passed. My fuel my path. And that's a rap. Yeah.


It's Midsummer's Day!

Hope y'all had a good one. Just came back late from a day of festivities: good food and company. That's really all you need. We live superfluous, our days littered with scattered gadgets and obsessions battered into a pad of routine... but it's good to forget all of that for a day or two.

We had no sun, but we had no rain either, the weather as in between as the day - warm and windy nevertheless. We spent our time by a Couronne table (ALA Carrom), and talk, and time passed fast. Good day, and good night.


Looks like today is going to be one of those warm days. Maybe the start of a heatwave once again? The sun is beating upon the windows already, trying to get in, and it's just started. I'm opening the windows on the shady side of the house, and loading up a milkshake for the morning, and preparing for the warmest and worst.

Don't get me wrong! I do love sunshine, but when you have no fans, or air conditioning, and the walls are not stone and cold, the warmth creeps up on you and makes you SWEAT. Shower's inevitable today.


I've got to write something. Just something I've gotta write. I have a bowl of muesli but I've yet to take a bite. I need to write these words first, this verse that surged tonight, but this morning I forgot it, the words dispersed in sight. It's so clear when you dream them but so easy to forget. What you remember one night you will not forget the next. You'll forget something different, some totally different context. The thoughts they roll and thunder, and like rain clouds they turn into cool morning air: this thought was here. It rains, today.


I'm holding. Holding the line. Waiting in a phone queue.

I called in this morning... and it's still morning. Five minutes have passed, maybe. I haven't eaten breakfast yet. I haven't been to the bathroom yet. I haven't prepared my lunch. I need to get this phonecall out of the way before I do.

I got sidetracked. I think ten minutes have passed now.

Fifteen minutes now. I'm done with my other does, just waiting on an answer; and now 19... I hope they answer soon, need to make a break for another room as soon as they do. Waiting...


Just a short one today. Something simple. Very basic. No complicity here. No complicated tidings. No story. No poetry. No rhyme and rhythm. No verse at all. No universal ramblings. No rants. No anime fandom. No magazine outtakes. No reviews, or talk about movies and TV shows. No showcase of personal skill. No show. No basket case. No football case either. No case file. No nail clippers and thumbtacks. No thumb nails. No thumbnails of thumb nails. No PayPal propaganda. No pogo stick promo. No prognosis over the weather tomorrow. No diagnosis over my current state of mind. No shit.


Oh woe the world! Look out the window. What do you see out there? Can you breath the air? Can you smell the flowers? Do you feel your chair? Is the screen too near? Are you commuting? Are you sick of polluting, and bloated papers: bosses parachuting? Are you sick of the looting, the smoking, the sooting? I'm sick of sitting in, sick of shit again,feeling life is sickening! Sick of all these people who feel they have a mission and enlist their kin. The grizzly's grim but even more so: new man. Old now. We call him: human.


It's the final day of June, and probably the final post I post on this place for a few months. I'll be going on vacation in a few days, and in difference from previous years where I just kept going with my writing - imagining that I might catch up during summer, I'm keeping the hundreds at bay this year. No more incomplete batches in my list! No more incomplete months with days only! And if I did catch up: no more rushed entries blotched with copy paste madness. I'll be back after summer, instead. Probably. Ready to write. A hundred.

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