posted on August 2, 2008 at 3:02 am

sometimes i’m uncertain that i’m truly invisible
i see my shadow on the wall
2 candles flicker and i move like a fly trapped in haze
in the middle of the night gone on all fours
the shadow looms and threatens
my fingers are numb
the stars seem far away
the floorboards are lewdly bare
a picture of some hindu god has fallen down
i cut myself and stare at my crimson blood
i cry and my tears mingle with my blood forming some circuit
i’m back in bed… i’m dreaming
no i’m not…my hand is bleeding
i stare at my crimson blood
i crawl into a room ive never seen before
it all makes perfect sense
i dont expect you to believe me
a self portrait on the wall smirking
the pastel has all smudged like its been in the rain
the rain beats down outside but i cant see or hear it
i love everyone in the world although i cant feel it
i can do anything yet i remain powerless
in the longnight
in the night of fear
in the wee small hours im feeling small
i’m feeling all finished with
i blame myself for everything
what does it all mean i wonder?
in the night without a compass
i cant tell right from wrong
was i a goodman
was i a badman
why did i do this
why did i go against my heart
why didnt i start this earlier
and stop this sooner
why you why
why me why
who are you
who me
yes you
i am you
yes
you are me
yes yes
and thats it
ok fair enough but who do i blame
you blame me
thats me
yes it is
but thats not right….
hang on a minute
im lost
muse :thank the subscribers again
me: another confusing thing….
other me : i am outbound
another me: you’ll never find another me
esteban noche : more magic realism
dr johannes cuspinian : the big red book of spells
illuminati : we dont exist
axegrinder: he dont pay taxes
taxman : no he does pay taxes…just not this years….yet
newspaper :TOPLESS VERONICAS NAUGHTY LOOK
(see page 56 for armenian rail disaster)
donald trump : i wouldnt be caught dead in a cheap-ass blog like this
see i’m channeling everybody
i’m the english channeler
i’m the bass non “straight”
i’m broke but not broken
i’m a molecule of dna in the universes cortex
i’m like a snort of amnesia up all of yer noses
i’m obsessed with my stupid bloody self
and somehow a rat has gotten into my garage
i have no real friends they are all merely accomplices
i am a genius on my own website and i lean on my delete gun
i say this
i do that
what a joke
i have to eat my words
theyre not that nourishing
everyday i spread myself too thin
i whore myself out in participial phrases
i bang my drum down the end of cyberia street
fresh words
fresh words
read all abaht it!
a torrent stream of fresh words
pity i dont get paid a dollar a word
or i would sit here right now and reel off
a cool 5 million
thats right
i’d use words like
embellish
obfuscate
tetra
you see
i never will run out
my words will last longer than the oil
my words will stain the eastern sky like smoke
my hand is still bleeding
my arm feels heavy
quart after quart of precious blood
all moving round and round
my tears and my blood form a circuit
my sweat pumps from my poor pores
in the mirror my hawklike reflection
magic more magic
someone has put a bad bad bad spell on me
lift this curse my reflection would have said
if it could do anything other than shudder
the hindu gods picture has fallen off the wall
i look at my crimson tears
my sweat and my seed form a circuit
the glass moves through the bloodstream
the crimson glass
i sweat
the blood and glass form a circuit
the phone rings
who can it be at this timeofnight
a distant voice speaks
some other language
about the armenian dome collapsing
about the way they pulled hypatia apart
about the peasants who were mascara’d
about gay olde king richard and the blurred crusade
about lyonesse dreaming under the waves
lemuria gone beneath a jungle
bermuda triangle shorts
the instruments have gone haywire
i am kilbey in spades
the time being
these are my occult diaries

15 Responses to “from an occult diary 3”

  1. avatar
    Polydora | 2 August 2008 at 5:09 am #

    I came in search of ole aunt Maude’s rude button, but instead found magic and more magic. Just wondering, can I get that with a little more naughty Veronica and turnip recipes?

  2. avatar
    Anonymous | 2 August 2008 at 5:14 am #

    I’m entering your house of spell. Never obvious. Never. Everything’s a mascara, mask, musk, whatever, these days. Sometimes I feel like an imposter of myself. It’s a stangely familiar feeling but does it always have to stumble upon this feeling? Nothing to discover, he and she uncovered. If there is a busty nymphette free near you, I tell you, don’t use cold hard cash, baby, ‘cos it’s gonna be blood money. Don’t blame the circuit later.
    We’ll be back with our regular show soon.

  3. avatar
    Loran Vesk | 2 August 2008 at 9:25 am #

    hi steve and other psychedelism fans…

    please take a glance at:
    http://mrkillabee.deviantart.com/art/The-end-of-all-songs-93491170

    And thanks for the soundtrack of my life
    Take care

  4. avatar
    woods | 2 August 2008 at 10:01 am #

    Sounds like you’re experiencing the old Greek’s Drimes of August/the Sharp Days? Lots of transitiony stuff going on right now. Hang in there…

  5. avatar
    matthew | 2 August 2008 at 2:15 pm #

    “bermuda triangle shorts”… now there’s a dang good fashionistic merchandising opportunity!

  6. avatar
    kat | 2 August 2008 at 5:44 pm #

    ya sk, i’d like to be paid word by word too.

    alot of what u feel is gilt? save the world kinda helplessness.

    hmm.. well i got CR and p=a poster back. 🙂 will have to snap a pic of them soon.

    happy weekend, fiends…

  7. avatar
    fantasticandy | 2 August 2008 at 5:47 pm #

    why is it your most profound outpourings……
    garner the least comments?
    enjoy your sunday, my cleverest of friends!
    andy L.

  8. avatar
    davem | 2 August 2008 at 6:50 pm #

    Killer – see your mails on myspace. I’ve been unable to log onto my TTB fix for several hours today – what a scary thing.
    I’m sure many of us had the same problem and now at this late hour I’m so stoned I can’t see the keyboard, but it feels nice, hey it’s Saturday. Taken me 15 minutes to type this but made me laugh whilst doing it.
    Love to all.

    xx

  9. avatar
    davem | 2 August 2008 at 6:51 pm #

    Suddenly I can type.

  10. avatar
    davem | 2 August 2008 at 6:52 pm #

    See!!! Fingers!!!
    Nite.
    xx

  11. avatar
    captain mission | 2 August 2008 at 8:47 pm #

    is it that you are truely invisible or is the rest of the world just becoming more denser or is that what invisibility is…

  12. avatar
    Anonymous | 2 August 2008 at 9:19 pm #

    The mirror is an impossible place to live in.

    But we don’t give up of that, do we? Such a tyrant, the heart.

    Here’s me, wishing you find your peace with the mirror in female tense, and not too late. If I had your mirror, I’d certainly bhe as much lost as you, because that’s a tough call. Believe me, I know.

    Love, astral conspirator.

  13. avatar
    lily was here | 3 August 2008 at 12:40 am #

    The mirror ages but not our souls.

    Poor poor Hypatia. She will be resurrected in Agora soon.

    xxx

    ps Davem, my page kept closing down last night, a spell on the TTB?

  14. avatar
    lily was here | 3 August 2008 at 12:41 am #

    Or those instruments gone haywire?

  15. avatar
    ross b | 3 August 2008 at 6:14 am #

    my words will last longer than the oil

    So true – they will live on as the mythical dreamtime of future generations

    oil is uber-dense, physical energy consisting of earth matter compacted & compressed over millions of years…your words, pure spirit!

    Cheers, r.


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