SKIPS
Faux br'er ft (or why i am so wise) convenient.
pop's clchr cold shldr jean pull/ richyoull.
always be jealous.
so sigh (and have) tea times up.
Th sin. I. C. ntnsv Lee.
A stationary body levee space. Memeyeself&I.
Poor Mo' Dense-isms on me. in loose torn Deaf Lyo tards.
Twster tny fsts in stale smoke
Feigny masticates broad hips.
So... Sidewalks See? a Flaneur Faux Webby txt. U C.?
(it's for the people)
uh huh...(chew gum hear listen)
BLACK ANTS
Black Ants in jaguars encapsulated human ache 2 oh.spittle.deep pants.He splattered, don't you ever gar bodge your own insects.
Asked her, starf-ish. Or by boat,is it faster to point B. Here and. Don't say the you do it. First,you don't.
Amplitudes reed the bottom. The masses. A drive-by shooting,no matter what you mention,you're digging a hole ultramarine hollow bipolar skin tone.
Atrium distended and hyphenated. The roly-poly way of thinking.
Breathing half full in an argument with god. or God.
And a couple of really thin pages between the lungs.
Gag gallops and rolls the uvula. speak up,she said.
It must all mean something, because, nobody, stops at that stop sign. Turn to the page where it starts to fill the room wet.
Tree tops shy knee, lunch box.
Inclined to cry fingers. and dirt. webbed equestrian kicks.Look out behind you the greasy.
The angles of the fracture cast light from up above.
A patch,a plug for materials less crucial. The telescope aarghs the ablutions and aaghs the compendious plank.Propelled by an echo, the arsenal floats.
A spread sheet short meat thick white narwal. net you. What is a bamboo? Refusal of autonomy.
Lean and lean into the end, it can't reach scrape . It can't wait.The porch horse wailing.A right,handed polar bear.
Hurricane of geometric symbols
Say swim. It tastes loud a rule in. alas,also von it alone.
RIGHTING
The beginning words: Der tingle. Sheesh. God. Tonal. Sarcasm. Cellar. Trust.
Sweet letter legged wasps use large gerunds in tactile measures, are
in laymens terms, Allergic Answers. The correction (of the face off) for the century.Time spent
researching willful decisions, questions so deluxe, given as is.
Tangential to the topic at hand,regarding where it came for.
So it goes into a metamorphosis of the kind, which of course,won't run.
The Holy water is spent,
raging moments further than whatever prophets of words are.
Sadly aching. And the signed cast,the many colored surface that has glass-like trust,.
It can't get a grip on what the ol' belief ridden claw marks are for.
So many people climb the stacks of books, exactly what it is
the juror does not know.The hidden angelic cavern, not unlike the 'fridge, is on the run.
(Six of these,huh?)Figures not so sure about the filling hymns wake for
rest. In 2nd place is painting,and religion. Most of the time,demons have the run
on what cavorts as goodness gracious.Acidic bubbling from bad tracts,which is
what a plotter of paths,characters - attractive dark haired aliens , most are
good for nothing. Grace is beside the manner, when all is left to trust.
Come forth, ascending seriphim from a shadow,a great deal of communicative energy spent.
A time like trial collapsed into something resembling a press run.
Idiosyncratically, a smirk shattered the silence,which is
exactly what the head doctor,the black mask of level water, spent
all his library dues on. In most cases rebellious figures in purple impressionists shades are
salty when it comes to belief systems. Especially politics,which what it is for
can sometimes seem like a transparent icey catwalk, unevened by a lack of trust.
Slumping autumn conclusions ,last pages waking moments and the peruse is
the reason,the ability to stop when everyone else says run.
Like he (saided), the door. Are
you going into the end ? For
those about to write. In god we trust.
Just so you wont fill. Your time was spent.
And then God's golden lights are
turned inward, betraying and trust
chafing lyrics with handshakes. Dogma on, people who do like to run
usually find they are treatlessly wagging what they spent.
Praying,meditating,spaced out,or just not focused, it finds it is
Given the final grand "what for".
NEW COMMUNITY
It is. The keyboard is yours.Itcanoftenbeastringofseeminglymeaningless
STUFF. BROUGHT TO YOUR POWER BY SOMEONE ELSE. [all] [sorts] [of] simple options.
SEARCH. the world is now smaller and faster. you are not [on a line alone]
this banner is a banner that is decor that is taken for granted across the front of your face
To you from me.
TITLE: subject the thoughts with quick correct punctuation.
and so on and so forth and he said that she said the document
said "thanks!" have a nice day please return to sender reply to
copy the polite thing to say with a signature and a curiousity to
efficiency in culture the ever changing work of love and money
communicates
re:you
READING REYOU
Meaning ..................................................................................sew calculus ass tornado cunundrum
aint ............................................................................................pentagram metronome portent talc
what.......................................................................................... shadow self other what the mirror
for ............................................................................................reflexology scribe light stone rote
i ................................................................................................ pat her number after answers clam
tear ......................................................................................... saturday thursday reading now motive
it
apart
perfectly
still
in
motion.
for.
is now
the analysis. the process coming to wars you.
Re dirt the crust with guts and personal surface responsibility. roars across the page to read itself again. the words are what for. the eggtooth is a quill shrodinger phoenix.
sitting there again in itself and hovering within a couple of blue lines,carefully learned for
the reader to carefully sit there and again,read what for the words are not reading themselves they are not alive without the what this is doing write now.
the
reader
is
zombified
with
the water of life, a before and after biscuit giving birth to itself. not an image. no imagined motive must address itself itself.
po(mo)p will clean eate itself, itself .call man sin/se.ntence intents intense $cents$
CANT HALF
can't creating, large.Literally______Read. brks.phses frnds kllng ART tgthr.Sftng procss n-tnt stmch numb,l O O k shvr nspration.wrttn face.Aye tho trough true wlleyd value text.
blnce prcpce -----addaddrssng> . Ntr frly go say flee go .regnlly spk Jstfd rt hnd sthrn. reknng prmtve red drt pttrn. read. Tchnclly callous plms. mtnrrtv stump. recent obsssn words. nthng sun brow. Wll red nxt knew. "Line!"fathead cvr soldier Nasciaraq. kd bg Mcrock wndw.Lngr stll drwn meaning.
THE DOOR/out
war tiptoe verb bodies.
medium breath even steps. eyelids.
forgot the city. the moon.
(i wrestled the waves and succumb under dark rollers.)
glass window pane knives blindfolded.
snuggle ISBN cuddle
the dewey grass.
wish 'll a memory
crowd spend the night in ten years
so lops his uuum.
please attend meeting concern support.
Sunday 25 January 2009
FRIDAY: Can't half G
I can't have others creating, large.Literally______Read.
It barks.up phonemoses,you see? Frowneds!
Kilolonog ART too get her.
Sofotonog procosos in-tent storomoch gonumob,
l O O k sohover noseporayotion.wrttn face.
bolanoce porocopoce -----adodadodorososonog> .
Niter fouroloy go say flee go .regonueloly sopike Jost if i'd rote hunod sootohorn.
Wor.e.k.nowinog poromotove redo dort pottoron. read.
Tochonocolly callous poloms. motonororotov stump. Recent obosososon words. nothong sun brow. Wolol red noxt konew. covor solodier Nasoc iroq. kood boog Mocorocok wonodow.Lonogor stolol doorowon meaning.
tochonocolly mocorocok poloms. omobotionos motopohorocol sloolom toe dorove monomonic
tochonocolly mocorocok poloms. sonodosocoropot totolotinog sonocotomony porototoy ponoy
tochonocolly mocorocok poloms inososot. tonotocoles fologolola mosotocotoe cononodorum porotont.
I can't have others creating, large.Literally______Read.
It barks.up phonemoses,you see? Frowneds!
Kilolonog ART too get her.
Sofotonog procosos in-tent storomoch gonumob,
l O O k sohover noseporayotion.wrttn face.
bolanoce porocopoce -----adodadodorososonog> .
Niter fouroloy go say flee go .regonueloly sopike Jost if i'd rote hunod sootohorn.
Wor.e.k.nowinog poromotove redo dort pottoron. read.
Tochonocolly callous poloms. motonororotov stump. Recent obosososon words. nothong sun brow. Wolol red noxt konew. covor solodier Nasoc iroq. kood boog Mocorocok wonodow.Lonogor stolol doorowon meaning.
tochonocolly mocorocok poloms. omobotionos motopohorocol sloolom toe dorove monomonic
tochonocolly mocorocok poloms. sonodosocoropot totolotinog sonocotomony porototoy ponoy
tochonocolly mocorocok poloms inososot. tonotocoles fologolola mosotocotoe cononodorum porotont.
shoulda been left alone to continue my own development, but no. i had to leave the womb,leave the house, leave the shadow of familiarity. exposure to the differences.have you ever looked at someone elses gig and thought to yrself, "now there's talent"?
it's difficult to trust anything anymore. i see why man invented money. it doesnt lie.a dollar is a dollar.
so...hmmmmm. i went to eyedrum last night for first thursdays music improv. and now im home crunching letters for a few before i split for a jolly day at work. i stayed up too late. hangin' out. not even capable of the first notion of playing an instrument. found myself being interviewed about eyedrum. its 10th anniversary coming up. i wonder how varied the responses the interviewers are getting.
creeping around questions with an honesty that doesnt really know anything. there's nothing to define. it's whatever you want it to be, i suppose. one is allowed to quote, be themselves, unquote, in the strictest and loosest sense. in the most apathetic as well as passionate sense. there's no judgment in that regard, but i say there is. it's about development of yrself and if you wanna go lie to yrself, knock yrself out.nobody is gonna judge you. they'll support you. and be just like any other human being you know when it comes to finding who you are around who or what. or what you say or what you think. it's about community and sharing. the people are left to their own devices to fill in the gaps that build the structure. and those gaps shift and change,but as you know, you might observe over a period of decades, they stay essentially the same regardless.timeless faces.timeless models that when supplied,the rest generates itself. the specifics do not matter,but those very things are what equal it as loving. there it is again. that duality. individuality, but a generality of mankind.
i think, as my own duty goes, if i care about eyedrum, if i figured that you could taint and deface a good thing, it would be in my best interest to be objective and excuse myself.to be an admirer.but silent, because those associations spread. to say there is no judgment is strange. that relies on some idea of an audience. if the audience is a wide dispersed subdued cloud of ourselves, then who cares? its just us. these just us and these just us. these just us and these just us.
personally, i feel i dont have any talent. just a will to be. talk about self important delusions. one reeks of sense of self. years of cultural influence reveal themselves to all on some quite subtle level. it comes out in words and body language and actions. i have a warped sensation of myself and why to share. but i enjoy it more. more than folks who just wanna use it as yet another place to further their gig. which,oh shit, in all reality, thats the more respectable route. removes the individual from their art. the individual comes out in the art. it's about the art. what does "further their gig" mean? where do broke down broke folks who find their only place in life, find themselves and realize inspite of all other factors,their place is to make art.do they go back to the ralizing they are broke and inspire from there? with a will to texplore the existing challenges of life. the rejections and lack of acceptance..is there a place to escape this? or what? where do they go? what do they do to support themselves and who do they... blame? whats helpful to them? what would be the helpful thing for others to do for them? tell them what they want to hear? give to them?
why am i thinking about all of this..analysis of analysis with a dull mirrored blade. i fear i have a virus that kills art. i fear and hesitate.
i sense the pace of your voice. the faltering and the moment of processing. i sometimes here it smooth out and relax and i want to blend to that.it sounds almost like a different buried reality that is evoked during certain situations.around certain people,certain artists. then i wonder about my intentions. then i realize they dont really matter. i hear myself and want to cry cuz i cant focus on the right thing. always elsewhere in the now. and its cuz its what feels right,even though it pays for itself later. theres always later.and that later is another now to be there. the rest is emptiness and anxiety. waiting for something to happen. even if it is something bad. at least something new happened. god forbid you find the will to create change of yr own accord. i see and hear myself. if there was ever anyone who was more full of shit, i don't know who it was.
it's difficult to trust anything anymore. i see why man invented money. it doesnt lie.a dollar is a dollar.
so...hmmmmm. i went to eyedrum last night for first thursdays music improv. and now im home crunching letters for a few before i split for a jolly day at work. i stayed up too late. hangin' out. not even capable of the first notion of playing an instrument. found myself being interviewed about eyedrum. its 10th anniversary coming up. i wonder how varied the responses the interviewers are getting.
creeping around questions with an honesty that doesnt really know anything. there's nothing to define. it's whatever you want it to be, i suppose. one is allowed to quote, be themselves, unquote, in the strictest and loosest sense. in the most apathetic as well as passionate sense. there's no judgment in that regard, but i say there is. it's about development of yrself and if you wanna go lie to yrself, knock yrself out.nobody is gonna judge you. they'll support you. and be just like any other human being you know when it comes to finding who you are around who or what. or what you say or what you think. it's about community and sharing. the people are left to their own devices to fill in the gaps that build the structure. and those gaps shift and change,but as you know, you might observe over a period of decades, they stay essentially the same regardless.timeless faces.timeless models that when supplied,the rest generates itself. the specifics do not matter,but those very things are what equal it as loving. there it is again. that duality. individuality, but a generality of mankind.
i think, as my own duty goes, if i care about eyedrum, if i figured that you could taint and deface a good thing, it would be in my best interest to be objective and excuse myself.to be an admirer.but silent, because those associations spread. to say there is no judgment is strange. that relies on some idea of an audience. if the audience is a wide dispersed subdued cloud of ourselves, then who cares? its just us. these just us and these just us. these just us and these just us.
personally, i feel i dont have any talent. just a will to be. talk about self important delusions. one reeks of sense of self. years of cultural influence reveal themselves to all on some quite subtle level. it comes out in words and body language and actions. i have a warped sensation of myself and why to share. but i enjoy it more. more than folks who just wanna use it as yet another place to further their gig. which,oh shit, in all reality, thats the more respectable route. removes the individual from their art. the individual comes out in the art. it's about the art. what does "further their gig" mean? where do broke down broke folks who find their only place in life, find themselves and realize inspite of all other factors,their place is to make art.do they go back to the ralizing they are broke and inspire from there? with a will to texplore the existing challenges of life. the rejections and lack of acceptance..is there a place to escape this? or what? where do they go? what do they do to support themselves and who do they... blame? whats helpful to them? what would be the helpful thing for others to do for them? tell them what they want to hear? give to them?
why am i thinking about all of this..analysis of analysis with a dull mirrored blade. i fear i have a virus that kills art. i fear and hesitate.
i sense the pace of your voice. the faltering and the moment of processing. i sometimes here it smooth out and relax and i want to blend to that.it sounds almost like a different buried reality that is evoked during certain situations.around certain people,certain artists. then i wonder about my intentions. then i realize they dont really matter. i hear myself and want to cry cuz i cant focus on the right thing. always elsewhere in the now. and its cuz its what feels right,even though it pays for itself later. theres always later.and that later is another now to be there. the rest is emptiness and anxiety. waiting for something to happen. even if it is something bad. at least something new happened. god forbid you find the will to create change of yr own accord. i see and hear myself. if there was ever anyone who was more full of shit, i don't know who it was.
the bury dairy
not here not ever not really,not entirely. always elsewhere. always sort of on vacation. leaving something of your reality,attending to very regular mundane needs regardless. it's an escape that straddles. this strange place. creative passings. a cycle and a routine. purging and cleansing. escapism. experience.
hasten thru the day with thoughts and thoughts to say. and everyone listens more than you think. a quickening of the light across surfaces,a skin rippling crust, a turn and look at the challenge. yrself. mezmerized by design a delightful lovely wagging obedient tail. sinister elegance drapes a skeletal wand like finger over a pineapple bedpost. and tomorrow a walnut sized amalgam of derelict antiquities spews across the placemat. answers only come to those who what?
awake now. a trail of nonsense demands itself in your face. the efforts of others. acceptance and deep sighs are what honest interest become. a thin sheet of bleary brown film subtly widens in perception, a gaseous familiar warmth envelopes and then recedes. it is that area between caring for someone and caring for the sake of what is good. and then trust sends a tangent grasping for more .
more money. why not address it? it is an abstract notion,is it not? whatis enough? to do what. sit around and think and let individual intentions bleed like this second slip extends amplified sarcasms bouncing of chasm wall in anohter hot and sunny country.
the light hits just right on humankinds creations here. everything has a sense of belong and just the right sugary dollop of importance. charlatans stand by with bait like stench from desire and infants as if apparitions crawl and claw at their ankles. history always young and always so smart informs and deforms itself with memories and writings
and editing. feeling. the king editor. feeling even edits god.
columns covered in dust line the intown pearly streets. the counter ticks off the bodycount at a throwback staggering anthropomorphic rate. like vines,green and hairy mammilian quasi-sentient breathes throbbing. feelings are its pollen, sweating the air up with creative impulses.
the strange delay as it gestates into certain laughable random places. and where does the king of abstract thoughts meet to challenge the king editor?
so now feelings face the editor on main street at high noon.
what do you want? stiffens the vine.
a mass of wailing existence does an amazing bunch of nothing all over the airwaves and a moment passes that is simply alive. it is there as if it never was ,never was forgotten. and right now the air itself is aare.
a vine reports this in a vibratory communicative state,an imitation. of an imitation? a real thingis
a grinning deck of cards thrown in the air cant count em' or read yr expression when looking up and its still hanging there. in mid air. all of them. colorful world of bungee seperated oil slick dangerous banana peel rollerskate water grave. the milk man cometh. summer sank across the day, across the rippling surface and smoothed it out.
a guy interpreted it and shared it for no reason. so now its there.
not here not ever not really,not entirely. always elsewhere. always sort of on vacation. leaving something of your reality,attending to very regular mundane needs regardless. it's an escape that straddles. this strange place. creative passings. a cycle and a routine. purging and cleansing. escapism. experience.
hasten thru the day with thoughts and thoughts to say. and everyone listens more than you think. a quickening of the light across surfaces,a skin rippling crust, a turn and look at the challenge. yrself. mezmerized by design a delightful lovely wagging obedient tail. sinister elegance drapes a skeletal wand like finger over a pineapple bedpost. and tomorrow a walnut sized amalgam of derelict antiquities spews across the placemat. answers only come to those who what?
awake now. a trail of nonsense demands itself in your face. the efforts of others. acceptance and deep sighs are what honest interest become. a thin sheet of bleary brown film subtly widens in perception, a gaseous familiar warmth envelopes and then recedes. it is that area between caring for someone and caring for the sake of what is good. and then trust sends a tangent grasping for more .
more money. why not address it? it is an abstract notion,is it not? whatis enough? to do what. sit around and think and let individual intentions bleed like this second slip extends amplified sarcasms bouncing of chasm wall in anohter hot and sunny country.
the light hits just right on humankinds creations here. everything has a sense of belong and just the right sugary dollop of importance. charlatans stand by with bait like stench from desire and infants as if apparitions crawl and claw at their ankles. history always young and always so smart informs and deforms itself with memories and writings
and editing. feeling. the king editor. feeling even edits god.
columns covered in dust line the intown pearly streets. the counter ticks off the bodycount at a throwback staggering anthropomorphic rate. like vines,green and hairy mammilian quasi-sentient breathes throbbing. feelings are its pollen, sweating the air up with creative impulses.
the strange delay as it gestates into certain laughable random places. and where does the king of abstract thoughts meet to challenge the king editor?
so now feelings face the editor on main street at high noon.
what do you want? stiffens the vine.
a mass of wailing existence does an amazing bunch of nothing all over the airwaves and a moment passes that is simply alive. it is there as if it never was ,never was forgotten. and right now the air itself is aare.
a vine reports this in a vibratory communicative state,an imitation. of an imitation? a real thingis
a grinning deck of cards thrown in the air cant count em' or read yr expression when looking up and its still hanging there. in mid air. all of them. colorful world of bungee seperated oil slick dangerous banana peel rollerskate water grave. the milk man cometh. summer sank across the day, across the rippling surface and smoothed it out.
a guy interpreted it and shared it for no reason. so now its there.
SUBLIMINATOR EGGTOOTH-ed
Simplified. complexi-flip. it's simple spacial-sations of a normal observat-ors -simply grumbling by -and around you, a remaining echo. Motorcycle boots and a careworn face, an exterior that says dont eff with this feller. But in reality, he's seems a very careful and mellow individual. Well spoken and steady studying eyes, he carries a conversation with you,with the audience, that could easily suggest endless paths of experiences. But things are kept very normal speech. Seeing things as they are. The sounds he speaks and simplifies in an overlap,throughout the middle of it- is a raw voice simply talking, but it talks through and around you. These sounds also bare inorganic structures, they use basic elements to collapse and expand in the air. Handed in a disarming way, a way that has a regularity that almost brings you too close to a specific and personal individual, this very thing is also an inexplicable strength. simplification. layered and ripped into flat transparent waves of filmy smoke, it continues. a single thing handed to you somewhere between music and other. thoughts of taking the vocals beyond and into different categories tease and sometimes seem to yearn for erratic tangential dreamy spontaneous patterns, but they do not. they stay here in the waking walk. where the wheels meet the road. if anything else were put to this it would be recognized as a place in which it belongs. this uncategorizable thing indicates endless potential,but only for those careful enough to realize what to leave out and how to leave just yourself in. and deliver that with feeling. Floating somewhere in between. often potentially trance enducing, strange digitally manifested creatures will wriggle across the top abruptly. the individual chants across the center of the storm with introspective simplicities that all can relate to. oscillating between inaccesible vehicles swinging three fisted subtle thoughts straight up, and a numb bluntness that smoothly lands in your lap.
hell ,as far as what his intentions are..no effing clue. for all i know he's one of those lizard people that certain conspiracy people talk about. ya know, he could be insane, but i doubt it. prolly just likes trying to make cool sounds. im curious to see where he takes it.
eggtooth ist 1492-1776-2012
Simplified. complexi-flip. it's simple spacial-sations of a normal observat-ors -simply grumbling by -and around you, a remaining echo. Motorcycle boots and a careworn face, an exterior that says dont eff with this feller. But in reality, he's seems a very careful and mellow individual. Well spoken and steady studying eyes, he carries a conversation with you,with the audience, that could easily suggest endless paths of experiences. But things are kept very normal speech. Seeing things as they are. The sounds he speaks and simplifies in an overlap,throughout the middle of it- is a raw voice simply talking, but it talks through and around you. These sounds also bare inorganic structures, they use basic elements to collapse and expand in the air. Handed in a disarming way, a way that has a regularity that almost brings you too close to a specific and personal individual, this very thing is also an inexplicable strength. simplification. layered and ripped into flat transparent waves of filmy smoke, it continues. a single thing handed to you somewhere between music and other. thoughts of taking the vocals beyond and into different categories tease and sometimes seem to yearn for erratic tangential dreamy spontaneous patterns, but they do not. they stay here in the waking walk. where the wheels meet the road. if anything else were put to this it would be recognized as a place in which it belongs. this uncategorizable thing indicates endless potential,but only for those careful enough to realize what to leave out and how to leave just yourself in. and deliver that with feeling. Floating somewhere in between. often potentially trance enducing, strange digitally manifested creatures will wriggle across the top abruptly. the individual chants across the center of the storm with introspective simplicities that all can relate to. oscillating between inaccesible vehicles swinging three fisted subtle thoughts straight up, and a numb bluntness that smoothly lands in your lap.
hell ,as far as what his intentions are..no effing clue. for all i know he's one of those lizard people that certain conspiracy people talk about. ya know, he could be insane, but i doubt it. prolly just likes trying to make cool sounds. im curious to see where he takes it.
eggtooth ist 1492-1776-2012
i perfromed art?
ART ("F" U) dahlgren/
EGGTOOTH's performance at eyedrum went.
The division began between himself and you,the artists. The individuals yearning to express themselves, earnest desires to share. The division viewed from certain angles exists. The eyes of others,the intent of others. The words flowed from a point, from a place in time.
Somewhere between self absorbed and caring about others.
Please take note of the room you are in right now. Listen to the sound of my washing machine in the background that you cannot hear. Please be aware of the moment I took to write this and judge it for what it is. my moment. There truly is an amazing no-significance to it.
=Welcome to the internet=
Welcome to a gallery space. In the flesh. Art is where you find it.
Where real people with real names approach you and say hello.
Let me divide myself, let me flow and then saw myself in half. Edit myself and perfect myself for you. It is my own challenge I have exposed in this day and age, I've met you or walked past you, perhaps sat next to you in traffic. Perhaps typed you an anonymous e-mail or read the same book as you. Perhaps i remembered and forgot the same things you remembered and forgot in the same books. Perhaps the intent I brought to your writing mirrored mine. We read and write,speak and talk, mutter to ourselves,or pets, our family,our phones,our electric devices.
Acetate clearly ripples around my heart, I beat on it and cower from the perceptions I have of myself. Oscillating rollercoaster, I am my own number one fan. I have fans and they blow.
Through me and across the front, my heritage shows, the path I took to get here - is covered in my writings.
My own words follow me and shove me into being who?
Am I a character of myself for you? How do I give you who iIam? There's only one way. It has to be clunky. It has to be awkward. No shield between the two. Only the moment created to observe and that perception is mostly defined by you. not me. Creating in this day and age, is very much like any other. Of course. But the individual. aaah. The Individual..at once elevated as it is a blur. a release of emotion. For who to care..I mean,truly? I know better.
And i give it to you freely.
And then my own hostility exposes me in a tiring loop, the cycle that brings me back to self love. Doing what you do because you enjoy it.
Unlike right now, I seek the usb cable to connect my camera to this computer,this computer that does not belong to me, that has connnected me to so many. This extension of me, these keys I pound, the mild yellow hostility I cannot control, freaking desires I must let go of,due to knowing my own will, my own limitations, my own weaknesses.
My ultimate strength will be to admit that I am just me. Swinging and having moments where it is happy. But my god, they seem less and less the more I think I know as some sort of aged creature.
I cannot find the connection, the visual to give you, to put in your head. I cannot find my own visual, and when i do see myself, i prefer what i saw in my own mind. This stage is as real as my mouth. The standing toe to toe actionof communication. If I were beautiful, it would be easy to just strut and smile. Is that so? I stand here and stare back at you.
How to focus all of my devotion on caring about the intimacies of others creations,or the surface moment of just the act itself.
I dont know,but I will work on my technique and I will continue to call myself an artist as much as I am just me.
Just Eggtooth. Just Jeff Dahlgren. I seek to share nothing more than my own mundane explorations,in a day and age when the mundane,the normal, that is the thing to breath an invisible famous life of obscurity into. Of a perceptioon of yourself that is about community,family and love. To Share and inspire..is to challenge one another? and measure that challenge?..or is that because I watched too much television?
Is it thinking too much if it is turned into an single action? A performance. A thing. A moment.
as sacred as Refrigerator art with your mother - a society that gave birth to you. It has love to give you if you sense it. You just have to be willing to give it back. To everyone.
I did not perform. You did.
But you know this all to very well.
EGGTOOTH's performance at eyedrum went.
The division began between himself and you,the artists. The individuals yearning to express themselves, earnest desires to share. The division viewed from certain angles exists. The eyes of others,the intent of others. The words flowed from a point, from a place in time.
Somewhere between self absorbed and caring about others.
Please take note of the room you are in right now. Listen to the sound of my washing machine in the background that you cannot hear. Please be aware of the moment I took to write this and judge it for what it is. my moment. There truly is an amazing no-significance to it.
=Welcome to the internet=
Welcome to a gallery space. In the flesh. Art is where you find it.
Where real people with real names approach you and say hello.
Let me divide myself, let me flow and then saw myself in half. Edit myself and perfect myself for you. It is my own challenge I have exposed in this day and age, I've met you or walked past you, perhaps sat next to you in traffic. Perhaps typed you an anonymous e-mail or read the same book as you. Perhaps i remembered and forgot the same things you remembered and forgot in the same books. Perhaps the intent I brought to your writing mirrored mine. We read and write,speak and talk, mutter to ourselves,or pets, our family,our phones,our electric devices.
Acetate clearly ripples around my heart, I beat on it and cower from the perceptions I have of myself. Oscillating rollercoaster, I am my own number one fan. I have fans and they blow.
Through me and across the front, my heritage shows, the path I took to get here - is covered in my writings.
My own words follow me and shove me into being who?
Am I a character of myself for you? How do I give you who iIam? There's only one way. It has to be clunky. It has to be awkward. No shield between the two. Only the moment created to observe and that perception is mostly defined by you. not me. Creating in this day and age, is very much like any other. Of course. But the individual. aaah. The Individual..at once elevated as it is a blur. a release of emotion. For who to care..I mean,truly? I know better.
And i give it to you freely.
And then my own hostility exposes me in a tiring loop, the cycle that brings me back to self love. Doing what you do because you enjoy it.
Unlike right now, I seek the usb cable to connect my camera to this computer,this computer that does not belong to me, that has connnected me to so many. This extension of me, these keys I pound, the mild yellow hostility I cannot control, freaking desires I must let go of,due to knowing my own will, my own limitations, my own weaknesses.
My ultimate strength will be to admit that I am just me. Swinging and having moments where it is happy. But my god, they seem less and less the more I think I know as some sort of aged creature.
I cannot find the connection, the visual to give you, to put in your head. I cannot find my own visual, and when i do see myself, i prefer what i saw in my own mind. This stage is as real as my mouth. The standing toe to toe actionof communication. If I were beautiful, it would be easy to just strut and smile. Is that so? I stand here and stare back at you.
How to focus all of my devotion on caring about the intimacies of others creations,or the surface moment of just the act itself.
I dont know,but I will work on my technique and I will continue to call myself an artist as much as I am just me.
Just Eggtooth. Just Jeff Dahlgren. I seek to share nothing more than my own mundane explorations,in a day and age when the mundane,the normal, that is the thing to breath an invisible famous life of obscurity into. Of a perceptioon of yourself that is about community,family and love. To Share and inspire..is to challenge one another? and measure that challenge?..or is that because I watched too much television?
Is it thinking too much if it is turned into an single action? A performance. A thing. A moment.
as sacred as Refrigerator art with your mother - a society that gave birth to you. It has love to give you if you sense it. You just have to be willing to give it back. To everyone.
I did not perform. You did.
But you know this all to very well.
SUNDAY: killing festoon pork barrel orgy lets be clear
john say it straight to him i just determined to get you
i just fundamentally accountable not just crisis hire lobby
is the police officer financial crisis extra debt
pay attention policies,so do you agree? we gotta fix the system mainstreet greed wallstreet theres no doubt long way to go stricter regulatory their job this crisis but i have a fundamental inthegooodness productive innovative thru our best days are ahead of us you begin. fundamental approach what you would do ist thing out of control its gone size of governemnt the great society. hes also right special interests introducing lets be clear earmarks accoun to for
18 billion dollar 300 billion in tax cuts to wealthy 100 million americans grow from bottom up tax cut the ordinary paycheck comes home extra gas computer for the kid killing him recipe for growth eh eh eh senator
mccainPork barrel pork barrel 932 million dollars in requests i hear this all the time earmark corrupts porkbarrel it has ot be cleaned up fought against it,the sherrif i didnt when miss congeniality 800 billion dollars myself and senator i wanna cut spending is
lets just be clear. shipping over seas
government changed us tom called earmarking out of control spending governemtn pork barrel bears in omntana 3 million dollars brought under control
ive got a pen veto make them famous you wont know their names i paid ofr every dime of it.absolute line by line to make sure we are not spending money unwisely middleclass back on track neglecting the struggling continuation oif the last 8 years respond.lemme give you objectionable busines tax what are the looking ot the side and laughing about? festooned! i mean billions! you gotta look to our records? the best thing for america tax system is fair. let's simplify 2 tax brackets and two dividends
or we have to start making some decisions
we alienated 20th century mindset hes our dictator pakistan spent 10 billlion dollars failed state lemme tell ya this business about bombing iran a brand new united states reagan lebanon voted against it couldnt make peace several hundred 300 died the first somalia gulf war bosnia collegues genocide what was necc. in kosova a record i opposed peace keeping capable of i have a record
i have hu hu highest young men and women wolf borrow harms way 22 yrs old kille din combat and i said
i will wear his bracelet but promise me one thing not in vein we will win this one
lemme just make this point ryan david greenbay can you please make sure no othermother goes thruwhat i went thru
are we making good judgements precisely into enormous step the point i originally eye off afghanistan video tabes nobody is talking about becauseof that it is not true you are at one point we could muddle thru the central fron muddle muddle tal lee bon you might think that obama would hav,by the way whenim sub committe chairman wiz ear uh stan i know what our needs are we ill prevail
the important thing is the important thing is lousy painful lousy oil revenues i am convinced
he said cuh lamb it us
the bad new sis my five minute things have run over two mintures to you
the threat from iran. if iran has nukes,it an existential threat to israel and other countries in area will want nukes. no 2nd holocaust foreign
lets be clear. lets be clear a group common control world's economic power
john say it straight to him i just determined to get you
i just fundamentally accountable not just crisis hire lobby
is the police officer financial crisis extra debt
pay attention policies,so do you agree? we gotta fix the system mainstreet greed wallstreet theres no doubt long way to go stricter regulatory their job this crisis but i have a fundamental inthegooodness productive innovative thru our best days are ahead of us you begin. fundamental approach what you would do ist thing out of control its gone size of governemnt the great society. hes also right special interests introducing lets be clear earmarks accoun to for
18 billion dollar 300 billion in tax cuts to wealthy 100 million americans grow from bottom up tax cut the ordinary paycheck comes home extra gas computer for the kid killing him recipe for growth eh eh eh senator
mccainPork barrel pork barrel 932 million dollars in requests i hear this all the time earmark corrupts porkbarrel it has ot be cleaned up fought against it,the sherrif i didnt when miss congeniality 800 billion dollars myself and senator i wanna cut spending is
lets just be clear. shipping over seas
government changed us tom called earmarking out of control spending governemtn pork barrel bears in omntana 3 million dollars brought under control
ive got a pen veto make them famous you wont know their names i paid ofr every dime of it.absolute line by line to make sure we are not spending money unwisely middleclass back on track neglecting the struggling continuation oif the last 8 years respond.lemme give you objectionable busines tax what are the looking ot the side and laughing about? festooned! i mean billions! you gotta look to our records? the best thing for america tax system is fair. let's simplify 2 tax brackets and two dividends
or we have to start making some decisions
we alienated 20th century mindset hes our dictator pakistan spent 10 billlion dollars failed state lemme tell ya this business about bombing iran a brand new united states reagan lebanon voted against it couldnt make peace several hundred 300 died the first somalia gulf war bosnia collegues genocide what was necc. in kosova a record i opposed peace keeping capable of i have a record
i have hu hu highest young men and women wolf borrow harms way 22 yrs old kille din combat and i said
i will wear his bracelet but promise me one thing not in vein we will win this one
lemme just make this point ryan david greenbay can you please make sure no othermother goes thruwhat i went thru
are we making good judgements precisely into enormous step the point i originally eye off afghanistan video tabes nobody is talking about becauseof that it is not true you are at one point we could muddle thru the central fron muddle muddle tal lee bon you might think that obama would hav,by the way whenim sub committe chairman wiz ear uh stan i know what our needs are we ill prevail
the important thing is the important thing is lousy painful lousy oil revenues i am convinced
he said cuh lamb it us
the bad new sis my five minute things have run over two mintures to you
the threat from iran. if iran has nukes,it an existential threat to israel and other countries in area will want nukes. no 2nd holocaust foreign
lets be clear. lets be clear a group common control world's economic power
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