stale dialog psychosis
The day this show ends is the day I'm going to find the greatest glee I've ever felt. It's at it's best now, straight up as a show which straight up wants to stab me in the face. People openly ask me responsive questions to my thoughts making it so obvious that I'm in a show and yet i enter the greatest psychosis for the character of Kade/Skylar in Silver Tiles.
So it's funny, because at times I'm like what the fuck, then I enter Silver Tiles and I'm still like 'what the fuck' but I'm producing a show that exists on the mental plane that other people can see that we sometimes call the astral plane for conveyance.
It's more or less the lights flashing at me like in the beginning reminds me of Mannahatta and seems as a sign that it'll end soon.
I have to remind myself every so often, more than I do especially when I'm tired how famous I am and why. That I'm this incredible work of science/art/spirituality merged in N.Y.C. and it sucks that i suffered so much for it but I'm so fascinating apparently and didn't even know it. That the whole deal is I never know when it ends just that it's happening.
The show is great but at an entirely other level. It's opened new doorways of the characters openly fucking with me in my own shared arena (as opposed to home). But I've opened Fairfield and this seems to open a certain pathway for me, in particular it opens a need to psychologically hold some sort of wit, like my souls chewing gum and I'm wearing a shirt more witty and stylish than the one I'm wearing. Like I had the 'In Utero' Nirvana t-shirt that was Josh Lindwalls that I think I ended up with. That's what I should be wearing for a show like this. Dirty ass 'dandy warhols' t-shirt i purchased after the concert wth Allie Chase and jeans that are dirty with pen marks (makes me feel writer. Makes me feel closer to art school pants. Something Loren Collarie would wear) is close enough. I'm name dropping and it's my way of reaching out to humanity, to people I know, to people I'd like to chill with as soon as this is over. I feel like they're going to wrap a blanket around me and take me to a helicopter to the top of Donald Trump's tower or Bloombergs secret chamber and be like... you're so famous and you only sort of know it. Here's the show.
Thinking back to how it went on for 2 years, atleast people have an idea of how I really am.
Because now, I'm so crazy from this show my psyche is some sort of strange resemblance of what it was, a twisted thing and I miss all the "programs" that are now vintage footage.
So it's funny, because at times I'm like what the fuck, then I enter Silver Tiles and I'm still like 'what the fuck' but I'm producing a show that exists on the mental plane that other people can see that we sometimes call the astral plane for conveyance.
It's more or less the lights flashing at me like in the beginning reminds me of Mannahatta and seems as a sign that it'll end soon.
I have to remind myself every so often, more than I do especially when I'm tired how famous I am and why. That I'm this incredible work of science/art/spirituality merged in N.Y.C. and it sucks that i suffered so much for it but I'm so fascinating apparently and didn't even know it. That the whole deal is I never know when it ends just that it's happening.
The show is great but at an entirely other level. It's opened new doorways of the characters openly fucking with me in my own shared arena (as opposed to home). But I've opened Fairfield and this seems to open a certain pathway for me, in particular it opens a need to psychologically hold some sort of wit, like my souls chewing gum and I'm wearing a shirt more witty and stylish than the one I'm wearing. Like I had the 'In Utero' Nirvana t-shirt that was Josh Lindwalls that I think I ended up with. That's what I should be wearing for a show like this. Dirty ass 'dandy warhols' t-shirt i purchased after the concert wth Allie Chase and jeans that are dirty with pen marks (makes me feel writer. Makes me feel closer to art school pants. Something Loren Collarie would wear) is close enough. I'm name dropping and it's my way of reaching out to humanity, to people I know, to people I'd like to chill with as soon as this is over. I feel like they're going to wrap a blanket around me and take me to a helicopter to the top of Donald Trump's tower or Bloombergs secret chamber and be like... you're so famous and you only sort of know it. Here's the show.
Thinking back to how it went on for 2 years, atleast people have an idea of how I really am.
Because now, I'm so crazy from this show my psyche is some sort of strange resemblance of what it was, a twisted thing and I miss all the "programs" that are now vintage footage.
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