as we begin this post, i am sitting in an upright position on my father's favorite leather, brown armchair. my eyes are closed and i am giving in because google tried to give me the runaround when, in fact, i knew my own password the whole fucking time.

i have no word processing software. over the course of my writing this, i expect to be moving around from spot to spot. maybe even opening my eyes for a few seconds, but don't count on it. i know that at some point i will be writing belly-down on the most beautiful andy warhol painting-to[urned-into-a-rug i have ever seen.

there is a movie on about the death of the guitarist for the rolling stones. basically now there is a lot of screaming. i am not v. interested. i should like to write a prophecy tonight.







all of the good in people...all of the good and the bad and the ...everything you need to know about a person is in the first three layers of the skin.first impressions are important, yes, but i'm not talking about job interviews or the first day of school. i'm talking about the magnificence that must exist to allow us--humans, platypus, sheep, pigs, cats, goldfish, birds--to look at one another and size up within 3 seconds if that person is right for them. bear in mind that the word "right" in this context has not been defined.it could mean "good" are they a "good" person. it could mean "right for me" "are they right for me?" "should i marry this person? "should i procreate with this person?" "should i fuck this person?" "should i make it my priority to never speaking to this person for the entirety of the rest of my life?"

we know these things. these things are basic. we hold these truths to be self-evided (duh), yet still we ignore them. i try to go after what i want and i am selfish. i have never been selfish/a bitch/a cunt/a sow before. but i never went after what i wanted before.

so in this entry, this blog has been relegaded from pop culture trivia to "everything else rachel doesn't want to say to people's faces". yes, only you, dear OTHER readers (HA) can read this shit. cuz it's about to get heavy.

it's robot time.

*******

last night (FYI i am now on the carpet), while i was on robot time i was watching youtube clibs of mitch hedberg. funny muthafucka. he was talking about club sandwiches and how that got started: "man, i love sandwiches," "yeah, me, too, man." "i like mine with 3 pieces of bread," "oh yeah? me too, man, we should start a club!" "and instead of cuttin 'em in half. we'll cut 'em into four squares." "yeah. how do you feel about frilly toothpicks?" "i love 'em."

fast forward to this evening (pre-RT) when i was talking to a friend of mine from school who just moved to los angeles yesterday to start his life. and when we got on the subject of creating a club for joblessness (great idea), he said we could eat club sandwiches and talked all about the frilly toothpicks. in love.

the carpet is moving. i can't tell if it's just moving in reaction to my movements or if it is moving of its own volition.but it's alive. i'm scared i'll make it go away. come back ridgy mountains of rug. stained by the hands of a man who wore a white wig.

j
;
errr.

feel the sweet embrace
of satan's hoof against your face.

the drum solo of LIFE.

life is a terrible thing to waste. you know what else is? your own equilibrium.

go. front to front to back. maintain the equilibrium. this was the hardest and most humiliating lesson for me to learn in sophomore year chemistry class. so many people are in here with me.

fat elvis is coming. i want someone to talk to.