hey folks. so i've been trying to write something, and I dunno. it seems like part of my brain has been trained to view my work from the way a publisher might. right now there's all this stuff in me that needs to come out, spurt out like vomit, it's stuck and won't come out. i know what it is and i know it will eventually, i guess i just have to be patient. i'm sending 'ashley land' in soon for the francis ford coppola contest but first i have to go back and edit it all over again 
and i just wanna get LOST, super lost, i wanna bleed, i want it all to gush out, i want the stink on paper, i want the foul ugly me out on paper, i wanna get GONE in a new writing project. i hate the in-between, i hate pushing my own buttons and exploring my own dark corners - well, no, i like that part - but I just wanna hurl myself back down into a dark endless pit and see what i bring back up, or maybe never come back up. right now i'm standing on the edge I guess, looking down into the black, waiting to jump. maybe someone will push me? tonight i'm going to see the new greg araki film, "mysterious skin." it's weird. i can write rape scenes but watching them is a whole different matter. so i'm hoping i won't freak out. not too many people understand this about me, warren_13 does , though, my turbo lover. ahaha. last night i had this bizarre dream. i was in an episode of law and order, and i was forced into prostitution, and then I was forced by my captors to take a shower and flippin david bowie was there and took a peek at my wet nakedness 
was awesome, then he sat in a fold-out chair and read the newspaper while i toweled myself down 
so Coney Island will soon be invaded by rich fucks who love money so much they put it up their butt instead of in a wallet and now their pullin it out and are gonna build fancy hotels and prolly do away with the beautiful abandoned shake shack i love so much, where all the stray cats sleep and look out for one another. i love abandoned places, i love how the sun shines down on the left behind junk people didn't care enough for to take with them. i never forget the forgotten. i spend hours looking up abandoned hopsitals, schools, etc, i just feel connected to the stuff somehow. okay, i feel a bit anxious right now, need to go write more, maybe put on some Team Sleep. everyone have a rockin' good time this weekend and if anyone sees "mysterious skin" share your thoughts about it 
and i just wanna get LOST, super lost, i wanna bleed, i want it all to gush out, i want the stink on paper, i want the foul ugly me out on paper, i wanna get GONE in a new writing project. i hate the in-between, i hate pushing my own buttons and exploring my own dark corners - well, no, i like that part - but I just wanna hurl myself back down into a dark endless pit and see what i bring back up, or maybe never come back up. right now i'm standing on the edge I guess, looking down into the black, waiting to jump. maybe someone will push me? tonight i'm going to see the new greg araki film, "mysterious skin." it's weird. i can write rape scenes but watching them is a whole different matter. so i'm hoping i won't freak out. not too many people understand this about me, warren_13 does , though, my turbo lover. ahaha. last night i had this bizarre dream. i was in an episode of law and order, and i was forced into prostitution, and then I was forced by my captors to take a shower and flippin david bowie was there and took a peek at my wet nakedness was awesome, then he sat in a fold-out chair and read the newspaper while i toweled myself down so Coney Island will soon be invaded by rich fucks who love money so much they put it up their butt instead of in a wallet and now their pullin it out and are gonna build fancy hotels and prolly do away with the beautiful abandoned shake shack i love so much, where all the stray cats sleep and look out for one another. i love abandoned places, i love how the sun shines down on the left behind junk people didn't care enough for to take with them. i never forget the forgotten. i spend hours looking up abandoned hopsitals, schools, etc, i just feel connected to the stuff somehow. okay, i feel a bit anxious right now, need to go write more, maybe put on some Team Sleep. everyone have a rockin' good time this weekend and if anyone sees "mysterious skin" share your thoughts about it 
silverrevolver:
I suggest going to a part of the city you don't know with your favorite books, a journal and a pen. Find a cafe, and drink way more coffee than you should, pace, observe, then sit and write. This whiole process ussually works me into a fevor of sorts, I do my best writing in this state of mind.