AUGUST, DAMN MAN I SLEPT

i have completely begun from the last rung, the end in so many ways is the beginning.

these marks suggest a pathfinder had crashed here, totaled. and a jeep and another pathfinder.

this is some of the glass that hadnt entered my feet when i ran out of my lady's house to help rescue the folks trapped in thier pathfinder, while it was on its side

this is the GW just before witching hour

the GW about witching hour, anyway i was thinking it looked good, a full moon almost fever
and a bridge went out on the way to minglewood

my bike carried by my truck, but really my truck carried my bike

fuck wallpaper

so much of my day, me and my dad, well we hung, but the paper fell

i need this whip for my oil pick ups

i was thinking about jamal shabazz

fucking LPR, he took it off

timmy

matt 138 he is talking to kenya before the summer slam races. hey boo

getting clean does not entail being green

me and hue moving through his land

building a shed for the biodiesel shining hues land, thanks greg leslie hue sam

easy on the carbon cut, diesels get scared like a skunk. this truck will smoke like a habbit. hues land. the north country

HOME ALMOST HOME

like a rolling stone,
and its all right ma
i 'm just breathing

there has been much in the way to speak i just havent in some time, know?

SUPER FRIENDS

There are a few mentions and
I would like to take the moment to do so, yo...

1.
Chickenjohn




and



his name came up sitting in Tiapol last weekend speaking with my pals cali and
andrei (whom i should say may have had the very first blog bitches) we were speaking about the make good with wood, altered fossil fuel engine...
Google this shit...gasification


2.
Callie
whom i was having lunch with and had mentioned chicken john and told of her recent mississippi river run...






Miss you nick. Man.

And here at 3. with Puma a project my art collective's efforts help inpsire , more
Re-bicycling



and

under link show
under link rebicycling

NEW NEWS IS NOT NEW

this week i have heard so much more than i have ever listened to.

the family in Cheshire CT murdered, the father beaten survived
the students in Newark NJ executed, shot and stabbed, one survived
a tornado grows in brooklyn, climate's change
student murdered in Manhattan NY, killer/boyfriend tried to kill himself
mississippi morns
here comes another flash flood NY
still there is more
and its the this surrealist horror that keeps me thinking about the shoes that protect the feet that pressed the gas pedal - of the mom who accidently ran over her child in Long Island NY
She was moving her car and didnt see the toddler until she parked it, right under the passenger wheel stayed the young son. her terrified shriek still haunts them - said neighbors.

i can not get over the pain abominable and eternal heartache she will endure.
i wonder if she has another child and a husband and how those relationships continue to grow under such pressure and imagined guilt.
damn it, i think applies.

everyday i imagine a non-fiction book is published, a movie scripted or advertised the wonderful continuum of our american murderous magic. all these aforementioned events have weighed heavy on me this week as i traversed NY and NJ from the saftey of an air- conditioned toyota. i have not been apart of the heat's maelstrom from corner to corner, side walk to side walk, all life in the streets. Shit it would almost be In Cold Blood, again located in Cheshire, no?

well here is something most horror show, the same day i heard of the said Long Island events, in Harlem I drove by this doll stranded on the side of the rode... fucking bonkers- such cosmic and dark coincidence