The Terminator: MB

Can't wait to see this!
YouTube - Muse Spoof Trailer - The Terminator

The Flaming Towers of Ilium...

Just imagine Hector, Paris, Achilles, Agamemnon...
Pictures, Photos of Troy, Turkey

No Time to Think

Wow...
YouTube - No Time to Think

Warm and Sunny Daze.

Part II

Helium, Hydrogen gasses. Solar neutrino, planetary masses.
Organism – breathing in breath out.
Water and oxygen, but...
How should I ask the hamster or the trout?

The sun pats me on the back as the wind kisses my check,
Birds are talking the fallen leaves are laughing,
Snow melting into the soil – a green sprout amid the skeletal arms of bushes.
I smile as I watch the plane fly through the calm coloured ceiling of the world.

Radiometric dating, P wave, S wave – wave goodbye.
This is your half-life in the natural fission reactor.
Decay, decay, away. Why does uranium turn to lead?
Can lead be promoted to uranium? Demotion...

Walk.
I walk – always walking never stopping. Walk up, walk down. Walk to get me from one place to another, get there and walk back. Walk forward. Walk fast. Walk slowly to watch the flowers. Watch the trees, touch the bark. Smile at the rabbit, the bird. They blink, I walk on.
Walk on concrete walk on grass. Walk on the moon.

Why is the moon? Glancing collision vaporized Earth’s crust. OR
Artemis and Apollo – Moon and the Sun
The huntress, chasing her brother across the sky. That’s better.

Walking, walking, walking on ice. Break the surface, walk on water.
Then walk on...

People all around me – but here I sit alone. Alone? All Alone? All one, Al.
Here I sit – looking out the window. I see trees, the sun sees me.
I wave, he smiles. I’m happy.

Listen to the music, feel the sun, write the words. I smile with all my being because I am right here, right now - perfection. Bliss? Maybe not quite, but close, I think.

I see a guy – face painted like a mime, why is the mime crying? Or maybe he is waiting for the Twilight. Where is his Bella? Over the cliff... going, going, found! By That Guy. The Other Guy. Him. Poor mime.

I paint my face to make them laugh. I wear hats, and silliness on my head – to make them happy, make you laugh and smile. Are they happier? I’m happier – wearing big pink headphones on my head now. Listen to the February playlist, over and over.

Momentum, momentous, moment. This moment, perfect. Vivaldi’s spring is just around the corner.

Oh, goodbye mime!

I Don't Know - I Yes.

PART I
(Preface: I wrote this last night (or very early this morning) but I was in a very peculiar frame of mind. In retrospect it must have been a paint-chipping-away kind of frame but what I wanted to do was try something different - to write completely free-style without any thought for punctuation, spelling or grammatical norms. It was refreshing to be sure, but I’m still not quite sure how I feel about it. There is a bit of a darker undercurrent even if it does sound like a load of gibberish.)

Sand, sandy, sandiest.
Dripping through your fingers, blowing through your hair.
It’s all around us, it is nowhere.
I own it, but I have nothing.

There is too much, too little, always. Never.
Like antipasto and past – are you still hungry?
How can you be full? What is full? What is empty? What is it?

We try to control everything, always, sense of comfort, sense of familiarity.
(Stream of consciousness)
The aberrance drives us nuts, one small defector from the plan.
But:

Maybe we should stop.
Stop.
Stop.

Let it all go. Go right, go left, go wrong.
Wrong.
Wrong.
All wrong.

Is this right?

The world is too structured. Subject, object, verb, stop. Sentence, stop. Paragraph, stop.

Can we think without the backbone? Can we conceptualize without the map?

What happens if we are left with nothing. Then everything. What difference does it make. Does it make it the same.
So...

Is this still a question if it doesn’t have a question mark.

?

When it all goes wrong then, and only then, can it finally go left.
Left.
Left.
Left behind.
Left in front. Preposition in apposition. Why is the dative sympathetic?

Why why y?

Y, x, w

W?
W!
Who, whose, whom. Huh?

Lol... rofl...brb...ttyl... our new lexicon

As empty as the space in the middle of the o. Oh, oh?
Uh oh.

Onomatopoeia. Pffft. Psh. Pshaw. Ugh. Argh. Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh......

Ellipses... or Stop.
.
.
.
Then go.

Go.
Go where?
Here + w, that’s where. No, that’s here. There – t. Pess-optimism.

Naw

Hey... hay is for horses.

I didn’t see the plumber but I saw the Culligan Man crack.

Bottled water, bottled air, where is the bottled peace? Piece, peas.
Snow peas, chick peas, black eyed peas, cheese please.

Is this still my poetic licence to write what I want if I’ve not registered and I am no poet?
Is this still art if it lacks artistic license?
Is this still writing if I haven’t written anything?
Writers block. Blocked, block, block of cheese.

In my way.

Let’s see how long this gets, are you still reading?
You don’t have to read this. I had no other ideas. The light bulb is in my closest – the station light is still flickering. Maybe I only imagined that I got on the train. Maybe it did fall. Fall, winter, spring summer... onto my head. How do I know? I didn’t hurt.

Should I post this grand mess of a blog post? What if you stop reading now? What if no one follows? Will I still write? Right? Wrong.

I hope you laugh, this if funny. Fun, funny, funnier, funniest. Fun sounds funny when you say it so many times. Times, times, Times New Roman. My font. Font. Elephant.

This irritates me. Iratus... means angry in Latin, I think. Ire. Ire. Iron ore. Or. Or?

Why do I keep writing this if it makes me mad? Mad. Crazy. Insane? Outsane?

Hmmm... hummmm... mhmmm...

Oh, I hear the geese honking outside. Must be too late and now it’s early. Where’s the logic in that. Stop.

Geese, goose, gooses. Goo. Goop. Google. Goggle. Go. Gag. Gaggle of Geese.

Blech. Bleach. Blue. Blew. Flew. Flu. To. Too. Two. You, u. Y?
U c?
O, I c. I don’t even need the whole word. SO

Why dno’t I jsut witre like tihs? You can slitl raed it. I can siltl type it. Wrdos are jsut ltetres rgraenraed. (rearranged – i made it too messy.) i don’t want to ‘shift’ anymore. why bother, the document will fix it for me.
i ramble. in shambles. in brambles.

what is an epic fail? This? Peace of writing? That’s not a mistake. I meant it. Peace of writing, world piece. Piece of cake. Psh.
No.

Wow. Ow. W. Y. I dunno. I yes. THAT’S the problem
Where’s my Muse?
Where is my mind?

I’m out of my mind – and I locked the keys inside. Inside, side, slide ,in inn.....

How to Stay Awake

zzzz.... sounds promising....zzzz
How to Stay Awake at Work or School - by Dumb Little Man

Do We Need This

Grrr... have you ever stayed up later that you should have?
And then the next day, OH BOY.

Thinking hurts!
(Apparently yesterday was National Thinking Day???) *shudders*

It really does, *painfully thinking of a good analogy* it's like walking through steel wool. Every thought hurts, is kinda fuzzy and vague, and you feel like that little person living in you head is having a field day with a lawn mower.

The thoughts come in the form of green ooze - gross and pathetic without any shape or form. You know, like when you're in the middle of an exam - WHY is it so easy to start daydreaming/fall asleep during exams?? (Or is that just me?) Maybe the brain is just being rebellious and instead of focusing on the task at hand (and a mighty important one at that) it procrastinates and does everything/anything else it can... oh, wait. Maybe that's just me. Ah, well.



There is no real reason why this picture is here - I was looking for something neat (tried NOT to look in any of the 3 Muse folders) and came across this. It's a picture of Alice Liddell or the REAL Alice in Wonderland. Lewis Carroll wrote the book for her and since Tim Burton's take on the classic hits theatres in no less than 10 days I figured it would be a fun deviation from Muse.