I'm getting cranky because I haven't had any food today. I told my friend I'd go to her party tonight but now i feel like staying home... but my superego is totally tripping. I'm poor, that's another excuse, How could I participate in a potluck when all I have is rotten fruit in the fridge and 14 bucks to last till pay day. Fuck the rent! Why are landlords so fucking money grubbing?
I was thinking oh, my landlord is so nice because he put a washer and drying in the basement but of course he had to put the kind that require coins to be operated. As if two months of my freaking rent isn't enough to cover the expense of the machines. Then there are the other 3 tenants in the building. Don't get me wrong my landlord is a friendly and understanding guy but Jesus. My fucking Dad rent's a house. He's just as bad I guess. Why in the hell are people so dead set on making g money off of people who have less money? Fucking Marx, he should have don e a better job coming up with a solution.
I'm going to the damn party

all i do is sleep. all i want is sleep. i dreamed of keys and mice, murderers and flying, suicide and warehouses, crossroads and soldiers. the flying happens so often in my dreams that i always remember, in the dream, doing it before, having the ability. It starts out like jumping but a jump i can hold until it turns to flying, like a video game or something.

I came across my first installation when I was going through old footage a couple of hours ago. The installation was about the love of sex and the fear of children. I had some guys come up and draw on my belly and when they approached my body I turned up this horrible noise of a baby(kiah) having a fit. Still it was fun for me, I was laughing. The image of my stomach was being taped and mixed with a previously made video on a monitor.

I'd be more upset if people didn't check out my package.

Natty Dreadlocks!
I'm on a music kick. I can't stop myself. I keep searching out every song I've loved when I need to read and write instead. Mr. S. Eastwood is going to have my head on a stick.
The guess who's coming to dinner song is in my head right now. I really need a Natty in my life...
I know the song from a car wash in Atlanta. It was right down the street. Andy was always going over there and filming. He was trying to make a music video for those guys. The had band practice there at the car wash. They useta rock it, jamming loud as all get out.
Once the band leader ordered a prostitute from the newspaper. That was funny. A man has needs, you know.

I just read this somewhere (the original Natty singer)
Black Uhuru: Apparently the original lead singer, Michael Rose, now drinks his own urine for religious reasons.

I'm getting curious about Antonin Artaud. Does anyone know anything about that guy?