This darkness is just a suggestion

... I see myself blurred in the mirror by steam and time seems to fold over onto itself and I see myself as a layering of all my previous days and years and all the time that is coming and suddenly I feel I've become invisible.

Photograph taken by yours truly.
2006

Employment, Leibowitz and Old-Fashioned

Customer quotes of the day:
[A fair 20 minute period after same-said woman purchased cheesy romance novel and had left the store, she returned to complain:]

"I can't read this! It's a romance novel based in London. I hate novels based in London, can I return it?"

[Elderly Asian gentleman's response when I ran into him twice within the same 5 minute span and I reassured him I wasn't following him]
"I'm too old for you anyway"

---
I woke up to the rain, left for the day with a chill on my neck and three layers of my worn down sweaters. Mmm ... autumn.

When there's nothing left to burn ...

You aggravate the hell out of me, but you showed me something beautiful. I can only hope you find that kind of beauty in your world. I think you have.
I'm still looking for mine.
Final thoughts before indulging in the weekend and the strange thoughts and feelings that they entail:

I'm not sorry I met you
I'm not sorry it's over
I'm not sorry there's nothing left to say.

Naughty Bits via Chagrin
[Fine, yes, I was a copycat. Get over it]

Ciao Bella, Ren Faire [First Weekend]

I was able to tack on an extra 500 geek points for being employed, very last minute, at the Northern California Renaissance Faire with my lovely Sydney, and will be wenching Gelato every weekend until October 18th.
I realize I have given out this URL to advertise my art, be patient: I need to install my "new" scanner when I'm not bombing online math tests.
And now for something completely different: a shower.

Fractured Ulna, Full Love

You roll off my tongue like smoke, and I'm struggling to keep you in my lungs.

"alone with everybody"
the flesh covers the bone
and they put a mind
in there and
sometimes a soul,
and the women break
vases against the walls
and the men drink too
much
and nobody finds the
one
but keep
looking
crawling in and out
of beds.
flesh covers
the bone and the
flesh searches
for more than
flesh.

there's no chance
at all:
we are all trapped
by a singular
fate.

nobody ever finds
the one.

the city dumps fill
the junkyards fill
the madhouses fill
the hospitals fill
the graveyards fill

nothing else
fills.

-c. b.

31

General Trudeau and I won tickets to go see The Painted Cakes at The Uptown last night in Oakland. My comrade is moving down to San Diego and soon I'll be stuck to suffer through community college by my lonesome.
And now for something completely different: a bottle of red and the start of the album art as commissioned by Carl Flynn.