Bjorkian Televisions
I'm taking into consideration where this T.V. show currently is. Essentially, I've said my piece on the past and I'm tired of going backwards in the show. That's all happened, you know how I feel on my past now and how I'm going to always feel. Characters through characters my speech this morning really put everything into proper perspective. So now, at this point in the show this is how I'm seeing it. It's all sort of like something in a Bjork world, it's sometimes like Matthew Blarney and it's sometimes like my dreams on crack. I'm walking through the streets and people are commenting and yelling, they're projecting items into my head and pretending to be people I no longer believe is necessary for them to pretend to be. I'm taking it all as crazy producers yelling the funniest of shit at me at all times and attempting to distract me and stop me from doing what I'm doing. The light theories are still in play. In addition, there's also this weird shit about trying to diminish my past, my age, everything. I can't be sure exactly who's on the other end, I can pretend it's James Hughes and assume this at certain episodes, or I can take into consideration the show is so big that it's probably somebody else by now. Somebody big. Somebody with alot of money who's going to pay me when this is done.
So I'm taking this into consideration and I'm just going to take it from there. From how I feel about everything, for instance I definitely want my club and Williamsburg to be this dream world that I imagine it to be before I came here. Is it going to be when all of this is over? There's no way for me to know, there really fucking isn't.
Do I miss the real world and my life in Manhattan before this show consumed me? Yes. Do I wish I wasn't famous? No. Am I some form of a joke or the most serious fucking thing on Earth? I'd like to believe I'm the most serious fucking thing on Earth, I control the show with my thoughts and jump through characters. It's more than surviving it's using it to your advantage.
It's so odd to be on a T.V. show, especially when all of this started. At times I wonder if I'm fascinating to musicians because of my belief in astral realms in music, the power of music to change and create things through feel thought patterns. Through the idea that music was magic or a magic spell. In 725 we went through the Christie years. More importantly, since U2 is playing now, we went through the death of Crane Street and how awful that was for me. To find out that horrible things happen to good people. To implode internally and hide, it began a period of my life which left me without feeling home until I got to S.V.A.
Until then, I really didn't have a home. And despite the fact that 'James Hughes' (if that's really you're name...Jesus this show is ridiculous) disrupted that, I still love my friends. I still wonder who was Hughes really. What if I just attracted a great deal of attention and was so fascinating that S.V.A. wanted to honor me? What if people were down with me crying and meditating, that I really was that Fairfield art kid. Think about the map I created for the 'Fairfield, Connecticut' novel with everyones homes on it, all the plotpoints, even Easton. Think about that.
What if people were fascinated by my process. And then what if the plotpoint when it really came down to it was seeing how a writer is disrupted when you fuck with his thoughts and the solitude he needs as an only child?
It's been 2 years since I've truly been alone. I crave that only child time alone.
'I need some time alone'.
I'm not going to say anything crazy, that I hate the world or don't want to act after this. I just need some fucking time alone man, it's been so long that I've been in this T.V. show that I definitely need it to end. I need to return to N.Y.C. the one without this show going on. It's insane.
Hey, I ponder when did Cruel Intentions and Eternal Sunshine from the Spotless Mind ever conflict each other? It's quite possible to be both; fascination point: diaries.
Fascination point: I'm quite pleased with myself since I started creating this blog again. This was apart of the process that broke down. I've always created a blog, a diary, something to keep track. At times I kept parts open in my life, so nobody could really track who you are. So they could never really attack you or clone you because God only knows what fucking technology the world would have tomorrow. When they talked about cloning Kurt Cobain somebody said, well, you'd have to recreate his childhood, the traumas and everything that made him Kurt.
I'm not Kurt I'm just somehow representing that which he did. A generation, a brutal honesty and the pain that comes with sharing that. The dream of being some beacon of hope beyond reason to the world off the nightstare that is N.Y.C. -> Williamsburg.
I didn't always plan it like this. I had no idea that it was meant to be Williamsburg or made this amazing plan about it. It's probably from a discussion we had in a dream about if I moved to Williamsburg what kind of T.V. show I would create.
And we chatted, and I said I'd be walking around past the walls and streets of Williamsburg streets with the randomness of littered sidewalks going to shows filming me and my friends in rants. This is what became the visualaxis of current day and how we got here. If I didn't move to Williamsburg we'd be on an entirely different plotline.
These lasers hurt my eyes, they hurt my head at times. Now that I only acknowledge them as producers it's basically the idea of the show is to annoy me, there's no point in talking to the machine. I don't see the point in wasting time on crazy.
I'm going to go to G now and find out if he's going to pay me for all the shit that I gave him. Maybe we're going to adventure to fucking bestbuy or whatever the hell.
All in all, why not? It's worth the money and there's no point in him fucking me over. Why? Why bother to call me for that? Why?
So I'm taking this into consideration and I'm just going to take it from there. From how I feel about everything, for instance I definitely want my club and Williamsburg to be this dream world that I imagine it to be before I came here. Is it going to be when all of this is over? There's no way for me to know, there really fucking isn't.
Do I miss the real world and my life in Manhattan before this show consumed me? Yes. Do I wish I wasn't famous? No. Am I some form of a joke or the most serious fucking thing on Earth? I'd like to believe I'm the most serious fucking thing on Earth, I control the show with my thoughts and jump through characters. It's more than surviving it's using it to your advantage.
It's so odd to be on a T.V. show, especially when all of this started. At times I wonder if I'm fascinating to musicians because of my belief in astral realms in music, the power of music to change and create things through feel thought patterns. Through the idea that music was magic or a magic spell. In 725 we went through the Christie years. More importantly, since U2 is playing now, we went through the death of Crane Street and how awful that was for me. To find out that horrible things happen to good people. To implode internally and hide, it began a period of my life which left me without feeling home until I got to S.V.A.
Until then, I really didn't have a home. And despite the fact that 'James Hughes' (if that's really you're name...Jesus this show is ridiculous) disrupted that, I still love my friends. I still wonder who was Hughes really. What if I just attracted a great deal of attention and was so fascinating that S.V.A. wanted to honor me? What if people were down with me crying and meditating, that I really was that Fairfield art kid. Think about the map I created for the 'Fairfield, Connecticut' novel with everyones homes on it, all the plotpoints, even Easton. Think about that.
What if people were fascinated by my process. And then what if the plotpoint when it really came down to it was seeing how a writer is disrupted when you fuck with his thoughts and the solitude he needs as an only child?
It's been 2 years since I've truly been alone. I crave that only child time alone.
'I need some time alone'.
I'm not going to say anything crazy, that I hate the world or don't want to act after this. I just need some fucking time alone man, it's been so long that I've been in this T.V. show that I definitely need it to end. I need to return to N.Y.C. the one without this show going on. It's insane.
Hey, I ponder when did Cruel Intentions and Eternal Sunshine from the Spotless Mind ever conflict each other? It's quite possible to be both; fascination point: diaries.
Fascination point: I'm quite pleased with myself since I started creating this blog again. This was apart of the process that broke down. I've always created a blog, a diary, something to keep track. At times I kept parts open in my life, so nobody could really track who you are. So they could never really attack you or clone you because God only knows what fucking technology the world would have tomorrow. When they talked about cloning Kurt Cobain somebody said, well, you'd have to recreate his childhood, the traumas and everything that made him Kurt.
I'm not Kurt I'm just somehow representing that which he did. A generation, a brutal honesty and the pain that comes with sharing that. The dream of being some beacon of hope beyond reason to the world off the nightstare that is N.Y.C. -> Williamsburg.
I didn't always plan it like this. I had no idea that it was meant to be Williamsburg or made this amazing plan about it. It's probably from a discussion we had in a dream about if I moved to Williamsburg what kind of T.V. show I would create.
And we chatted, and I said I'd be walking around past the walls and streets of Williamsburg streets with the randomness of littered sidewalks going to shows filming me and my friends in rants. This is what became the visualaxis of current day and how we got here. If I didn't move to Williamsburg we'd be on an entirely different plotline.
These lasers hurt my eyes, they hurt my head at times. Now that I only acknowledge them as producers it's basically the idea of the show is to annoy me, there's no point in talking to the machine. I don't see the point in wasting time on crazy.
I'm going to go to G now and find out if he's going to pay me for all the shit that I gave him. Maybe we're going to adventure to fucking bestbuy or whatever the hell.
All in all, why not? It's worth the money and there's no point in him fucking me over. Why? Why bother to call me for that? Why?
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