Silver Tiles

I want to be very particular about what I'm doing and why I'm doing it. Hi there, you're watching my T.V. show and i'm growing. I've realized the reason I do everything is because I AM better than other people. That's the drive, that I want to spit on you when I've succeeded. I want to laugh at you. I want to spit directly in your eye at my success. That's the reason I do this, for the selfish reason of succeeding. That's the reason I live, everything and everybody is a course of the wall, another brick, another element. It's merely a matter of success. Selfishness. The need to succeed. The good/bad things. Everything. The reason I wake up in the morning, the need to succeed, it's all self motivated. It's because I'm better than you and I'm going to back it up, I'm going to succeed and spit on everyone who's failed. Because that's the only reason to live. It's cute that they have people argue on my t.v. show. I lov

So, we're in Union Square this episode (or portion of the episode b/c how the fuck do they rate these things)? It's a moment to take to file, a duck and cover never allows furthering. I take this into consideration when looking back at the prior models of self allowed to inhabit this body. As I rise as actual, these molds of pretend come into the reflection of really taking the pattern of pretend failure out; there's a great deal of clapping and file amongst us, it's Saturday night and it's time for the show. I allowed a great deal of time to pass in the quiet humble of nothing. Promotion without accomplishment. It's an entirely different situation in this series of the show. Appearing sludgent, quiet, following these pretend hurts never comes into play in the modern incarnation of the television show. I spent such a deal of time in the past following the appearance reaction; you'll make them happy if you sleep in the night, quietly allowing the exterior app

It's early morning, it's become hoodie weather again. I'm starting to notice the strange consistancy of the quietness of Hart st. There's always sleep hours. I don't see any reason to sleep but they put me to sleep with soundwaves. There's something very wrong about that. Something in the sequence of placing myself upon the pedestool of being prepared to create the next artistic work of genius, the amazement that Williamsburg needs to save it and then the nothingness attempts to prevent this. This I will not allow. It is much like the naming of a Tabitha queen in a realm of green.blue.red it's very specific and very much implosive to their devises. Yes I am on a television show, and yesterday on the show you watched as at Yo La Tango I failed to pick up a girl but did greatly enjoy myself. Yo La Tango also agreed with me on the situation in Williamsburg. They're thinking of closing McCarren Pool. They're also thinking of closing Williamsburg it seems

I've created this blog to log my daily occurences within this T.V. show Since the beginning of this show I've known it as some sort of set up, I couldn't trust everything within it. So we're going to go forward from this point. If you're watching this then you're going to look back on the blog and see what I've already written. We're going to take everything from this point we're going to take it from the fact that my love for a band was manipulated, manipulating my feelings for Sarah Nufeld of the Arcade Fire later taking a girl from my novels (Vanessa) who was based off Christie Cummings and creating some hellish nightmare world where I'd delete the fucking novels I threw in everyones faces and later attempting to break down my love for Fairfield, Connecticut which I essentially threw in everyones face for being from. Later creating a world through all of this, where Brooklyn (Williamsburg) is an artistic revolution and then attempting to creat