Monday, September 8, 2008

finale

It's the final episode of The Visual Axis. You can catch the 4 tape movie companion from here.
4 Tapes and the producers appear. Harvey Weinstein and whoever else.
This has been the largest show and greatest scientific expirment on the human mind ever made.
I have been a test subject, a genius and a spiritual guru within the course of a year.
My thesis year led me to the development of my dream of keeping Williamsburg as an arts district.
Including which is my dream of a club.

I have no idea how this will turn out. I'm dcently disturbed and concerned. I'm told at any point if I act as though I'm not on a T.V. show it's all over I'm cracked into and the walls come tumbling down around me and I go crazy and end up forever in the looney bin @ woodhull hospital. If I succeed, then I get the club. One of 2 possibilities in reality.
It's really freaky, right now it's hard to write and they're already fucking beating the shit out of my psyche.
My day is going to be weird, strange, painful, embaressing, enlightening and when everything succeeds in art star style it's going to come together as one finale leading to the ultimate freedom/the ultimate dream/the celebration of N.Y.C.'s love for their little Jesus Christ Art Star.
Supersonic waves and barely sane it's the last time I'll say adios.

Sunday, September 7, 2008

elimination round

What the fuck, there's machines around me that see my aura and belief in my ability and those of the indigos? That they're waiting for me to stall and give up on this show or something, this fell thing, and then go after me? Working on the 4 tapes.
I'm told then it will end. I have belief in good Harvey Weinstein. This shit is hard. Check the movie.

Saturday, September 6, 2008

oddity commentary

It's a strange world to live in. Literally, this shits essentially jumping back and forth, like when I "time travel" it's really like that.
I imagine it's Rosicrucians behind this, the people who run this show know their shit.
The key to finishing this is being out on the streets of N.Y.C. 4 tapes, consumed mostly with Williamsburg.
So I'm going to do that and wrap up the series. The Visual Axis movie.

TVA: the movie

So essentially, the vlog I'm making right now is becoming the evolved version of this blog.
I'm segmenting it into 4 tapes.
4 characters or mixtures of character acting elements and stuff like that.
You'll get the deal.

Elimination round finale

I have no idea what that means, I'm just throwing shit out there.
I'm still kinda dealing with the situation of them being ahead of my thoughts.
What the fuck are in the lasers? Subconcious images? Kindly buy me a Teany sandwich when all this is over, despite the fact that I'll/we'll be in the Domino Refinery. I want all of this to look good, so I'm semi thinking about how I'll appear to directly the Dekalb girls and yes always Caitlin, I'm also pondering if hesitating is a good thing.
Entering the gallery I realized how insane I have to be to run through this whole thing.
It sucks to be trained to appear defeated or do these weird fucking hand gestures.
Everytime I see one of those lights flash I'm like shit, I've been dealing with that forever.
Damn layer one gets confusing.

a light, a creepy character and semi subliminal maniupulation

Capricorn is a color duck now. This is the kind of creepy shit I hear in my head when I close my eyes after being hit with an awkward light in this show.

Holy shit. This is the kind of shit they put in my head daily. Holy fucking shit. Holy fucking shit.
I need to get the fuck off this T.V. show now. Today. A.S.A.P. Fucking now.
I need to create this vlog and get off this show. I realize the affect this must have constantly on me. How many scary things they must say to me daily. Holy shit, I'm disturbed, I'm disgusted, I'm freaked out and I need to get off this show now.

branched words before the psychotics arena

It's now sept 6th. It's 3:12 A.M. we've reached the point beyond pretend. This shit is starting out like star trek. Let me start over.
Fuck man, those lights with the lasers pause my mind to think nothing. Do nothing. Live in a bubble of suck.
I miss my own internal monologue and the excitement of everything that used to happen inside my head.
I'm in agreement with the producers, the way out is artwork. Just vlog and blog the thing and they're going to let me off this insane show. Pretty obvious it's a show again, like in the beginning I see the lasers and try to dodge them. They really, really fucking hurt.
I wonder how this show will work. I wonder how on the outside world this shit is broadcasted 24/7. I live in a dazzle of arrays on attempts to create a bridge back home to Williamsburg. To reality. I want to get my shit done tonight w/indoor matters so I can jump out tomorrow. It's fucking absurd/annoying to deal with the lasers on the inside this apartment. Yesterday when "paul" (cause none of these people are using their real names) came over and bended over with the "katrina" and "miguel" characters it was disturbing pretend Brady Bunch ass fucking adventure theme of the myspace/facebook picture generation.
I need to escape. I know when I'm looking directly @ the camera, or the fucking light psycho therapy that it's getting to be an issue. Battery takes an hour to charge. Eat breakfast now.