last week? the last week. this week? lizard.

i miss living so little that i wrote so much, or visa versa. i miss you, pretty girl.

i’m proud of him for doing that, i’m proud. it hurts. it’s hard when the last person you’d want to is the only person who does.

it feels wild, every time. i can’t believe it, ever. time won’t exist then, yellow bodies turned inside out. yellow baby, promises, only in your head.

some things, if you do not write them now,,, those’ll never beeeeeeeeeeee wrritttttenll

chicken’s next to me now looking so vibrant that i’m forcing myself awake to keep myself awake enough to write enough.

she just started a little jazz. it’s good. i think it’s, like, arabic jazz. it’s pretty and certainly makes it easier to keep typing. parts of my body feel spent by now. we came down on the train (the strrreeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee


damn lol i’m so sleepy. it gets late so early in winter. it gets early morning so late in cornwall. we got the sleeper train down. at 8am in redruth everything was still ice cold shut. in the event of the redruth market with hthe music playing from the radio and then a full english rekfast. still.

we walked all over the peninsular. it’s so pretty by the water where everything ends. it’s cute. the witche’s ball is all full of people who are comfortable at the end of the earth. england. southerly point.

i had a religious experience by the refrigerator, thinking about how it’s important to find somewhone who’ll see the slices of life with you… or the shapes… or the types of life with your… or the rhymes, or rhythmes… or something. i can’t remember anymore. the door cracked, like someone pulling on the handle. we freaked out. i locked it, closed the curtains. i chilled out, she’s still a little scared.

met thurston in the witch and ball. met martin who thurston’d researched and learned that his dad met Haile Selassie who bought em two vanilla ice creams. i don’t know. there’s the bottom of england. this is where the tarot cards were painted and they know it.

anyway. train. between imbolc and equinox can be hard. wompy wheels, wompy wheels, wompy fucking wheels. we are in cornwall, i am a nightmare disaster it’s hard being like i am . but maybe things can be good eventually. we took that bus, that train. maybe it can be good. it was very special watching the fields movies together.

the week will be good, lots of new music and dumb ass nonsense waking up on the floor. i’m looking forward to all of it. xxx

accessible bathroom, redruth. lizard peninsula compliment from konnie huq. deluge, facts. 10 shortbreads. spingo, spingo, spingo. facts, no doubt.

it took 3 hours to get to the coöp. and finally i have cereal, i’ve eaten a whole box with milk in the middle of the night. can i stay drunk that long?

i had walentine’s day off, and i decided to get drunk and go for an adventure. i ate some wheat, foolish me. feel like i’ve been poisoned! hungover for days. hahaha. oh well, oh well. fever, clog and doubt. i hope we’re all learning some lessons.

why are half the youtube videos in my next up a man looking somber into the camera with his hands clasped with the caption “Why I stopped eating rice krispies after midnight”. 
staring at me with the eyes of an apology video “Why I’ll never look at the moon again”

my op-1 field started dying, gotta send it back to Sweden. i tried to fix it and made it worse. i’ll be getting something new for our trip to Lizard. it’s next friday. the next update will come from the bottom of england’s tail end.

watching some recently uploaded rap battles. soul khan still has it.

it’s so much work to figure out who you are. when something is so beautiful that you can’t quite express it, that’s about as good as you can feel. i watched all of this man’s videos: i really highly recommend it. they are strange and unspeakably beautiful. i am in love with this man.

my days and nights have been spent organizing samplepacks and making multisample synths and kits so that when i get the Synthstrom Deluge i will hit the ground running. i’ve forked the firmware and added a patch.

that balance between what you need and what you want… that’s hard, but it’s nothing compared to balancing your short term from your long.

i joined the discord voice chat dev huddle for the Deluge open source project. it seems very cute. i’m a really big fan of these people, and of this software and hardware. many are trannies.

i’ve learned that if you believe that everything will turn out well then in the bad times you’re like “that’s ok! i’m just getting to the good times!” and in the good times you say “hell yeah! told you so!”

tonight i went out for a walk with a microphone. i needed to pee so i hopped on a train. i hopped off at the next station. i played the piano. i met a man who’d once successfully pleaded not guilty against charges under the obscene publication act. he didn’t introduce himself to me that way, but i independently learned that to be true. he was very kind and interesting and friendly and i promised to come over to his house and make him a cup of tea. he will introduce me to his pianist. and i finally went to Lebanese Express #1. fine vine leaves at that restaurant.

and it’s hard to give somebody what they need if it isn’t what they want. or what you want.

i hope i’m well enough to work tomorrow. but if i’m not well, well, that’ll work.

it’s 1am, by mistake. i’ll eat a little snack and drink a little more and then wake up where i’m sitting now. this weeks’ gonna be stupid but next week’ll be fire.

i’m in the back of a taxi cab. the tunnel is closed under the water. there’s so much traffic that our driver has started playing music. i didn’t notice until then that Bolt cabs rarely have music playing? he asked permission? we’re all listening to madhur sharma now. our driver is singing along.

many congratulations to lb. i’m so happy to see you so happy.

a thing that’s been happening stops happening tomorrow, it’ll be better after. lucky numbers is out on wednesday. i’ve started working on the new e.p. already, it’s got a couple good songs on it too. been listening to björk and 90s ny hiphop and nola bounce. cameron paul brown beats on repeat. need to get my hands on a QY70 and sit on the rocks at the end of england and tell a story.

sometimes when she is falling asleep she starts shaking like she’s about to turn into a bigger pokemon. the big highlight, of course, is that guy in the alley with the trenchcoat and cane and the stony expression showing no fear locking our eyes, smoking his cigarette and listening to 40s music from an invisible speaker. if life is a tv show we are all extras except for that guy.

reminded of OpenCola by Cory writing in the pink paper. there’s 100 metric tons of legal coca leaf sitting in a factory in New Jersey

my shoulders hurt, so i’m going home to see my mattress about a nap. tomorrow will be a better day than yesterday and yesterday was pretty good.