Minnesota's Controversial Best Dad!!

I had nice Hockey teeth. And all I need is a Hummer to get to the grocery store once a week. Yet Dandelion's are versatile and easy to grow. Might need a rain dance eventually. Spring is the goddess escaping into the fields reviving the world with it's carpet of determination and it's endless wildflower seed variety. Take care in the mud. Don't eat too much nature. Nature can eat too. If you don't have a place, go to a church or start your own. The equinox is arriving next month. We will all be equal twice per year. Welcome to Minnesota! Where the sturgeon are long and the arrow heads are embedded. 

The new songs by Nothing Michael are, in order of inscription are:

Black Ice Shoes: (cat and mouse, slipping tires at 20 below, black ice books, draconian immigration and vacation rules).

Fields of Summer: folk music, red neck cold cider after sweating all day in the dirt and pesticides.

Better Missed: Anti conflict with my other half, Maybe next time we can just get each other ear rings. MBI OU IBM. Au revoir à demain.  Une bis. LA nuit de Notre noir amour, le Musique est au neurons. 

Night Reconnaissance of Orion the Hunter. Beatelgeuse (part of the constellation) is the art school eventually doing it's Supernova birth. It will be the brightest objective in the night sky. True Pinnacle of love...

Si tu as LA meme demain et moi aussi. 

No Reasons Why? A Minimum Media Wage.

 A few days ago in a galaxy:

Spring Air and I consider a return to some further education. Is the Sun going to arrive every day or will the night release a new habitat? I imagine the world is changing and it will be time to reason and the philosophy of my poetry. I admit some of my works dabble with the dichotomy of truth and fiction. A bit harsh at times. But sometimes necessary when the rain evaporates and I try to cling to a sober imagination.  

How is the world going? Sometimes great and other times all I do is think about literature and music. Art was something I imagined would be my path in life but I consider sound art a way forward if I decide to study anything in the future. 

Develop some kind of fan base. Emerge with life and vigour. A shopping expedition. Take care of the great memories. The crew. A follow up. UFO. Jesus at a bus shelter. Abracadabra. Don't forget to write the howl in the woods. A career.

Family time and forensic portrayals. Extended across time and space. Some kind of alliance. A screenplay where I play along with her dance and draw the camera with? Hunger and proper manufacturing techniques. Cheap alley a clean richness a mezzanine where we balance and have a tense love at dinnertime. I will bring home the usual. Money but never enough. Cliche and time. A dark and stormy morning at every door. An umbrella with beads of sweat. Work on a poem while collecting the weeds. A flower, truly severed. Pistol and stamens.

Everyone brave just for something to eat. 

Disturbed COVID survivors. 

X-Men issue #201. Sorry it took me awhile to raise the $0.75 Cents I paid at the drug store for that rag with the paper route minimum wage I broke my thesaurus for on dark and stormy mornings. 

Stars and Tribunal.

A stack of Ai news thrown in the woods. Comics? Bande Designé?

Delivered. 

Pony expressionism.

Leif crunching on the leaves in a new Vinland. Pour un vendage et une femme en Canada.

Howdy etranger. 

The eclipse is coming.

Will Thee Ai Blade Runner Ever Win?

  Short glimpse of the Old Bull. Resurrected, castigated, drooling slightly deformed. Literary maniac, looking for Belle Pour Ilionaa because we all are, out hungry electric. Today I dismantled the radio feedback and signed the bad air. It's warm for a near end of the month. Sky clears, then darkens. Their writhing shapes visiting me, perfect and the old teacher sticks his dirty hand out of the grave. We all make an annoying comeback sooner or later. Black streets and the cars talk quietly to me and the bar scene. I know your darkness and the inhabitation of the. Cool once again. Take care of them. I will see you always even at the end of the reasons. I should emerge and be ready for anything. Future holding. Everyday I dream of the last book no one will write. The world got sick and a recovery seems unavoidable. I imagine time will renounce us on some battered shore. The dishes will be there and I'm returning for a simple letter or two to trace. The footsteps in an alarm clock. Ok goodnight. The pen almost writes by itself these days. I dedicate this to a someone dedicated to finding their way home. An American classic, under a rainless sky. A cat blesses me somewhere. In the hospice of a challenger or will we rescue the two astronauts who are eternally stuck. I remember a few things about saving. Holy in the dark electronics. Annoying but desiring to communicate. Magnetic threads. Up and down. 35W. A listening to the swirling spirits dumping themselves out of their offerings. Laying in bed all day reading about a love for the new song you turned down. A wounded electricity. A punk to look down on as he ties your shoelaces together. See and run past. Lightning quick. To the other side of the static. Through the machine a broken TVee. They used to repair them. Now they feel situated in their time zone. Write a bestseller in 15 minutes. The voices of a late abstraction.  A stamp outbounds past curfew. A cunning stunt. Close. At least someone knows what their purpose in the universe is. Finding me for a cup of coffee. A telepathy with a roar building more dark matter. I give a tense and sincere apology to you whizzing past me but with all the compliments of history. Music from NY to Calexico to the disappearing arctic and the tornado season is almost here. Is there any place to go for planting season? Under the eclipse of my degree in a mental art. The temporary birth. Pray if you still can or dwell in the math for 10 minutes of fame. A bright future, brighter than our Sun the dark eclipse. A shadow of movement, Uncursed because our chromosomes weep the water cycle with tears for themselves. I'm not slushy, but a little ripe. It got the seance going or the synopsis. Calling a juvenile playground spat a photo opportunity of to get the straws and cigarette butts we find for 9th Street typewriters, back when friends rocked and I had less to talk about but the cold windswept imagination I walked through in that desolate homeless coat just to get keys for work driving all day on the ice, sliding through the accidents,  A job they needed someone to do. Training them, so they ride off onto the sunset, and everyone is left wondering why he still consumes all by himself his breakfast keys and a trilogy or a tryptic or a trinity. Thankfully someone will still drink coffee with someone else in the distant centuries in the exterior of this world disconnected from artistry and the vacation of a lifetime. Relaxed and the beach is where the waves erode and error the centuries. A plight of the movie intertwined with reality. A love perverted? Healed? (a word gift for?)...Someone who will say good morning in another time zone. Café noir avec creme et sucré et un bon matin a Le Monde? Ou un bier ou vin a demain? Mon amore...le future et un flick illuminated sur YouTube. Tres Belle. Je suis ton mot mais ajourdhui je pour les moins adoration de tu et vous et moi et je adore eternal notre temps. 

Emily Dickinson was Avoiding?

 A change in the wind direction. 

Cold front

The trek North into a new prescription 

Endless winters that always end

Your book, 5 of them today 

Work from home on the climate 

Editing the end is the liberation 

Forgotten musicality

The late night gossip 

The business of survival 

A camera a camera a camera

More of everything 

Maple sugar comes from 

Quality and repetition 

AI on spring break

Vacation from science 

Emily didn't write those

Jagged lines

That appear occasionally 

It's argued

With NY distance and?

Online tutoring 

Practice 

The Aftermath. White Snow & A Ghost.

 Who fell? Someone, somewhere. I don't know you but maybe your voice is in the machine now haunting the world with what I or we should have treasured. I hear the damaged and she was obviously communicating and then others needed to be. It should have been intimate. But the communication extended. So I apologize to her because I awake in the morning and I hope hers is not bitter. I was on the distraction. A new idea. A song. It was a day and night to remember. The Game of Thrones was a Wikipedia entry and I don't edit Hawaii (thanks spell check). I'm closer to Rapa Nui anyway and Rongo Rongo. The inscriptions, not the monolithic heads jettison from the ground. Such a peaceful ocean. A new job is a new book. Here's a can NASA. Throw it into space. Who will reclaim the 2 astronauts on the day after the massacre of the planet. It's in the Media or old footage looping. The drool, lackluster. Would they even want to return?

The director knows that the images sell. We have connected and separated. But in this world communication is unavoidable. Live by a gladius and a skit. Maybe the Colosseum looks good the way it is. Who fell?? In the cold and in the heat and in the morning after looking to keep the new child or breathing a sigh of relief. 

Is Earth the book? THAT: A Plan(et) already fell. Years ago. A failure, a Bauhaus. Recorded and reconstructed so it can fall again. A love imagined on a page. Today? Another day to find something. Tired and weary to trust with a new imagination. The rising and falling. The 2 Astronauts in a can. Drifting without an escape pod. In 1 Billion years the Sun will expand and consume the inner planets. Mercury, then Venus, then Earth will be swallowed and eaten in the fusion. 

Too much information???

Love to Mine and Yours on Valentine's Stars

 I've been here, you have been there. This is a serious month for me because of love and loss and I expend myself with thoughts of her and ground I inhabit. It's a moment they are after. Hopefully never ending in an argument or anything to trivial. Lucy in the sky. Diamonds. The time we escape and return. I have something for her. A. It's late where I am. She is not a snap of a walk in the dark forest. A few seconds and we connect. I've been lost, and I'm sure they see us from space.

What to do next? Write something new.

She taught me to write. I'm illiterate or too good. 

All I want is her to return and for me to return. 

Somewhere I have an idea.

Love to everyone. 

Fin.

Whitehouse & NKN Are What I Went To Bed With.

 I definitely needed a shower after listening to that action. It has a source. I was trying to rest. I counteracted with a song. And the morning arrived. Slightly disturbed more than usual, but what else is there to do but call and response. It's definitely not "music" for youth, But effective at the usual. Better than smoke signals. 

I prefer to listen to other music now than industrial and punk. But that music was and is a part of me. 

Shotgun weddings? The next babies are on the way mother fuckers. Child support. Of course. Santa will destroy you if you don't live up to your responsibilities. Diapers$ 

I'm done with raising children of all ages. I have a name a song and myself for a family the size of a Helium atom. Thankfully mine is currently non biological but extends deeply into the biological realm. The full extent is unknown but is considered extensive. It exists currently under the Sun and Moon but extends well into space via radio waves and photons.

For more parenting advice, talk to your own parents a pediatrician or give birth in the woods and go back to nature. 

IBM. 

Have Nice Sunny Day$ A

 The pressure is mounting.

Next day morning 3 cups of

The black tea I make In the Ice

Quiet singe I am quitting smoking 

For the 20th Time

What will I do next with my reason 

Health to spend however Or on whoever 

I please with new a new press

The French coffee I steep

It's a morning after all, wake up

The day is good again 

Here I write to you about exhaustion 

A night where time slows 

Getting back to the sonic construction 

The third album will last 

Patiently carried to the?

Originality, Fog to Mesosphere.

I watched the Superbowl on a dark TV. It was a night to remember. Talking to the theater of ancestors about the free things we sometimes receive as gifts and creations of sanguine evaporation we return to the Earth and donate to the black sky. The bowl, it's up there and sometimes it's empty and sometimes it's filled with almost everything. To the left was the ring from a cup. To the right was the wine spilled on the ground. I'm soberish except for the tea I offered to some of the scariest people in Media. They are here for us. And I teach them a personal lesson of a broken path. That has been difficult but is incomplete. The stories and contradictions obviously never end. Who won the Superbowl? The Mesosphere. I have forgotten because they are immediate and I am still unsportsmanlike when I am unsure of the singular Eagle and Chief who balance and shut out one or the other from time to time. Nature is always and burdened and in the true existence every day is a supper bowl. I have a castle in the deepest blue. It's made of one word. But can be translated endlessly. I am thinking of? Commitment to something or someone enticing. Distant and possible, A poet who wins affection and I am losing as I let the famous water inebriate us all. It's the peace most crave and the peace most crave. I'm serious now. Winning a bowl to carry and share the contents filled with an entangled existence. I used to play now I return from the difficult harm. Better than a win because sometimes you lose, and the loss is information. Home and the stars and a heaven in a GTC. 

Welcome home. Nows the after-party where we get serious. 

Live and stay alert. Late.

I Guess They Are Words and Now They are Knot/not..

 I realize spelling is impossible and important. The English language is a language you will spend your whole life learning.  And still never read or hear every single word or combination. Would it make for a good computer language? I suppose it already is to excess. Till you can't find the correct word to say or the correct sentence structure. I don't worry excessively about grammar and punctuation on this blog because there are some spelling and grammar mistakes I want to fix and repair and some I don't. We all need a good or great editor from time to time and I am always more concerned with mistakes offline than online. But I realize clarity is also important. This is a personal blog that I believe few people read, but with stats you can't allows believe that they are an odometer only going in one direction. Words are fluid, hollow occasionally, and how many of them are there?

I have three. Words. Does time move backwards. No. But videogames and books and records etc. allow us to visit the past. Will things change? Yes. In a desirable direction? Potentially also yes. But sometimes the classics win. I don't want to get stuck in the past. But I do value it. The experiences I've had and the people who have inspired me. Am I alone? In this world? Obviously not. No one is. Today I am married in my mind to someone and we have a song. Obviously a song is created by history and we are all married to history. Multiple people are always involved. That's just counseling. I hope they succeed whoever they are, because their division is our division and a lot of it is tribal to this day. Do I escape the one in my head or story. No because we need each other to prove that we exist. If we don't love or argue than we separate. And try something new. I create new book for a select audience because I find sometimes writing to one person you admire is often sufficient. They don't have to read the letter or story if they don't want to. I'm hopeful they will. But you never know till they respond. I wrote to iliona because maybe I just wanted to write to someone new. It was spontaneous and done. I hope to work on something but I'm not sure which direction I will go. Energy? Exercise. An attempt to improve? 

A secular holiday? Or just try to keep sane in a difficult world.

If We're Together It's Because We're Together.

 Does it matter who we are? To some it may seem we are unique. How would some describe a modern extended family? Who would you include in your life and who would you avoid. I would avoid me some days because sometimes I overreact to certain situations. Am I as exact, cold, and exact as a machine. Of course not. But machines bring us images of people we are sometimes included with. Would I want my or anyone's photo everywhere? These days and in the past, images have always been attractive, male and female and sometimes at a glance, is anyone truly sure of the present we're receiving? Sometimes I am fooled by images, but not always. Sometimes a famous work of art will be included in a museum or gallery. There are just some works I enjoy and it's because of the attention to detail and the presentation. Media is powerful. And Ai is a machine we are inheriting and it is inheriting us. Will I avoid it? At this point it is difficult to determine if I will because of it's saturation and it's capability to write this at light speed and I operate at a different speed. Does love move quick, as fast as light, yes it does.

Trojan horse. Who is to say. Sometimes media and I disagree and sometimes it seems we can't get enough of each other. How do you decide things entirely with art? Sometimes you just have to appreciate art where you find it, and for me it's usually online.

Bon matin et un tres bon vie.

Invisible Sex

Is it truly the most dasterdly subject? Yep and nope are vague words to begin with. It's also the most heavily censored subject. For good reasons. It's complicated. But not if you or I happily pay for it in marriage. How long does marriage last? Sometimes less time then not being married. Is a prenup a good thing? Maybe you aren't ready to get married if all you or I think about is money. Are we going to have babie(s) a pet, or an exotic vacation where everything goes wonderful or horribly wrong. Endless amounts of thinking too much. I'm poor, that's probably why I'm not married. And I've unfortunately seen bad or unsuccessful marriages. When children are involved it gets more difficult. But you can split the rent. Or work an extra shift without pay.

Back from my arctic expedition. 

Yes no smoking on school grounds. Because I shouldn't. Smoke anything ever. Winter camping though is an option somewhere warm, like the Internet. Or an expensive hotel in Paris. That I will pay for with buried treasure. What happened to LA? On the news it looks bad. But people tend to watch the bad news. Is it old footage or the latest? honestly these days it is difficult to stomach. What is happening in LA the Media capital of the world and the neglected cities you don't often hear about. Something and nothing. Obviously. Are you from a small town? Arguably I am. Popping a zit and enjoying Media from here. 

What did you eat at the Jolly Troll? Animatronics? 

Looks.

All of the above. Is my opinion.

Did we look good, together? What's your opinion? 

Is our time interesting for a movie. Yes it is to me, she might hate me though, if we are in a movie together and she might hate me if we're not in a movie together. I'm giving you my conflict because it would obviously be terrible if I wrote something vague. What if this blog was turned into an epic         film. So far it's just chaotic notes. Random, excessive, segments, things, people and places that have been important to me. On and offline. And maybe it's just too much to fit into a 90 minute film. Obviously I don't have the cash for such an undertaking. But someone else might. Would it be a success? No. Because it's the best story I can imagine so far. it's a global industry. And ultimately the question I have to ask myself am I able to condense what I've found out about myself into something I would want to share with the world? And who would or wouldn't want to be a part of it? And maybe I just want to make a movie starring my myths and legends I give and receive from?

Yes, I'm a writer with twists and turns and complexity and an occasional typo. 

The Current Book I Find Difficult To Read.

 Ok I didn't think Fargo was their best flick. Too close to home perhaps. Or maybe I just need a cigarette because I'm bored. I had the intentions of writing a screenplay. Do I really need to if I have never done so before? I prefer books of poetry, nonfiction, and fiction anyway to reading the 3 or 4 screenplays I've trudged through. It's the formatting I don't enjoy. Maybe it's a form of poetry that doesn't resonate with me on the page and I prefer the completed movie. Maybe feature films are something I prefer to shoot as a documentary style more so than hearing and herding actresses and actors and the cartoon characters (CGI) I would need to complete a massive project. Where to start? The movie theater or a TV or a Video or Vimeo (which has cool stuff but is difficult to access). Am I done with moving pictures. No. It's impossible especially if you grew up watching them.

I just had a mean thought and I apologize. To you.

Back to your regular program. I'm sitting next to a stack of books. On the bottom is a book of Egyptian poetry. Mine are in the middle. And the Coen bros book is on top. I will read a book today. It's this one. I may need to make a pot of coffee to get back in the mood to reading. I should just watch Raising Arizona or O Brother Where Art Thou. But old man winter knows the bare tree branches better than I do. Does it ever snow in Egypt? Does the Sun still shine on the pyramids. Of course I assume it does from this side of the world but honestly I don't know the weather report. A movie would be the quickest way to find out. Books sometimes take a loooooooong time to circulate. A film can take thousands of years to produce because you need a good story for people to maintain interest. Something that stands the test of time. Did I lose her today? I lose her everyday. Classic and nerve wracking. Will she be my Valentine? No. Do I want her to be. Yes. Or vice versa. We are dancing too far apart or too close for comfort. Is anyone watching? Someone is always watching. Some want us to succeed and some want to see us in the garden. Or in a movie. Where will it end? A memory.

How many times have I been in love. With myself once, with everyone else it's impossible to calculate but with the one I've found it's eternal. It's her or variations of her. I think too often. But not today. Today I'm on an arctic expedition. And I don't know where to go with her because there are so many possibilities. A restaurant is an obvious choice and the smart choice. But who will watch us and do I even care if I'm thinking about her. A myth and a reality clashing. Where does she want to go? The arctic? Frankenstein? Probably not. Ok sorry to the most beautiful person in my life. I'm just out here having a cigarette and you aren't. You are already gone and so am I. Will you wait. Obviously not for very long. Because I'm out here having a cigarette and you probably think I'm?

Smoking. I should get her opinion on gum.

The Science of Attraction and Decimation.

No Phy-Ed. Would it matter if I wrote something in my mind the ultimate immortality I capture and then try to escape with her of course dragging her on one adventure after another. Is she tired of me? Of course. Why do I pulse with energy for her when we could abandon each other any time we wished. I'm on the ground. A satellite is ready to evaporate me everywhere. I am stuck but I thrive more than her galaxy and mine which will collide and clash and intertwine in 4.5. I ignore her. 

Why? Because we have too much together. I apologize to her alone because I always throw everything out into the space of astronomy because there is nothing there. Retrieval is always difficult. An end to us. I've lost count of the times we've ended. And then I listen, you or someone else listens and the story gets hot. We burn up, out. Turn it off and go to bed. There I said it. My imagination churns our interactions. I write slow and exact. Will I show up on your birthday. I hope to. What do I want from you on my birthday? A new pen. I could disappear into the avalanche but something or someone would find me. I'm not sure who. There is a book I sold today. It was written during lockdown. The book was Somnolent Game. You are the one they deliver at the beginning after everything toxic has been reimagined into ruins and life. What's the first thing we would build together Arteria? A café Decammeron where I can skillfully dance through tragedy and heat and the new sky above us we don't understand because we are curious about the way we look at each other.

What happened to Iliona? Je ne sais pas. Honestly her Wikipedia was taken down. Mine has been evaporated twice. Has anyone heard her new album album yet? I will buy a copy. And give it my opinion. Will it be Ai? Or will it be insightful and and a spectrum of musical styles. I have only heard one track so far, and it's personal and cleansing of are what I assume young women face in this interesting and occasional postage stamp we sometimes are segmented into by ourselves, the world, or some California dream lost on a call never placed.

Lâche moi la main. It's the title of the new track and is something any creative person should consider.

https://youtu.be/zZvYia-lwG8?si=29OOQaIGu-V2ZXsD

I find it sharp. I enjoy listening to it, but it is perhaps a complex that may be difficult for some listeners to appreciate it's directiveness. I listen to it's threats and invitations with cautious excitement. 

Animal writes?

Missing Her Already And The Doghouse Has Wifi.

 Ok maybe some time apart is good for a relationship. Each relationship is always unique, and full of challenges. I have a media relationship. I've probably always had a media relationship. Eventually someone will say something offensive or potentially something worse like silence. The sky always changes color, and sometimes you just have to try new things for their health or your own. I suppose longevity is the thing to strive for unless the misery is dragging or the costs are too steep, emotionally, mentally, physically. Resources are always important. Humans started off as hunter gatherers and are now more sedentary but we have many transportation options and can commute via electronic communication in seconds to anywhere in the world. Food, shelter, clothing and the charity of entertainment. Some type of ritual usually keeps things together but my "religion" is nature and the machine and Xmas once per year. Though this year I might be a punk and just light a candle or throw a bash with the family. I think Moins Joli by Iliona will be something I will listen to every Christmas from here on out. Even if it's only me listening.

Adieu.

Y in Cyberia 21,843 BCE. Mammoth Bone Disagreement.

There was a disagreement, over poetry of course, Was a naturally occuring fermentation of something sweet involved? Most likely. The correct alpha bet. They went to work somewhere. Gnawing on the mammoth Bone yanking on it in a tug of uhg. The permafrost is thawing. Methane emissions. One more damn thing to worry about in a warming world. Water, where will you go?

I will go to Le Monde. Avec un stylo ou un tet. Mon tet est une motie du monde.

FutureBall. Socker. Kicked like A Ball. MN Aurora do you have NA Beer? I admit I haven't been to the stadium yet. TV or radio will respond. Illiteracy is what % of the MN population? Too high but not medieval hi.

Soccer or FootBall? Kix or Kicks.. Y. Social media, I will return eventually.

Musique:

Soccer practice. The following is a link to a rough recording of my latest version of Kicked Like A Ball. The song might be useful for a game. I need to get some $ and do a record one of these seasons. Or get a record label. I will watch a rerun of the Grammys today or tomorrow. I'm not sure about awards for artistry. But it's an accomplishment some enjoy. The same people usually win. I don't listen to what's currently hot. I usually wait for time to do the filtering for me. It's subjective of course. Word of mouth, YouTube (ie the Internet) and Spotify are where I find what I listen to, but the radio is an option I sometimes take for granted. Vinyl is pricey these days but still cool. POD. Minneapolis is/? an influential music town. Twin Tone was a label I interned at for 1 day, Maybe I should have stayed longer, but I probably had bills to pay. Two record shops I miss are Northern Lights where I saw Nirvana, and Let it Be, where I used to shop for books and records.

I'm sure this is close to the final arrangement:

https://youtube.com/shorts/FJvHbaV8fPo?si=lvF10iJxPs87tSHE