From L.A. Cops investigations, to SF Pot decriminalization. I stare at this

"The reports of my death has been greatly under-publicised. The tabloids has been curiously silent. Why bother bother faking one's death if no one notices?" Ermm....Oh, You're here...who let you in? Well, no matter, now the damage is done...just sit down and listen. You are good at listening, aren't you Sinister One? California is an odd place...one filled with all manner of uneven events. place in awe and some measure of horror. This SF, CA, USA. We have zip codes here, ya know...(like 90210). Mine's 94107...a slight bit of Barbary Coast heaven called Potrero Hill. The only goats here are getting long in the tooth, and short on the truth. So, I have this apartment/flat/humble abode...it looks upon the Mission District and the Twin Peaks beyond garishly adorned by a giant out dated antennae that we affectionately call "God's Roach-Clip". It's a bit ridiculous cause everyone know that God smokes a bong...jeez! As you can imagine I spend a good deal of time looking out the windows...and cleaning wood flooring. Murphy's wax and playing jacks on shiny well-kept floors...somehow It's easier to stay indoors....in my castle where I am despot. Staring down the long corridor of days, I am dumb with something intangible...a general lethargy. A buzzing of flies around my head always keeping me from concentrating. A faint notion that the cosmology I have built is working for me no longer (or was it ever?). I found this supplement called 5-HTP...I took the happy pill on accident one day. Made from some African plant and it took some of the flies away...but I think it's just placebo. It hovers, that cloud of confusion...and I beat it back with reason. Sometimes I do. You see, I write you when the buzzing stops....just long enough to type a short missive from Interzone..(i mean) California. And try to bridge the gap that exists between my brain and the world. Sometimes it takes all I can do to convince myself that the bridge exists...to make it substantial by sheer will. But mostly, I sit and watch the fog engulf the sun and the night cold creep through my window...and the time ticking tocking. And dream of denser days. The Pickle Prince P.S. Gordon scares me no more than looking into any other Mirror. It's difficult to grasp the profundities of self-reflection..but I feel it's much easier and more penetrating when filtered through someone else's experience. IS THAT WHAT SCARES YOU? _________________________________________________________________ MSN Photos is the easiest way to share and print your photos: http://photos.msn.com/support/worldwide.aspx +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+ +---+ Brought to you by the Sinister mailing list +---+ To send to the list mail sinister@missprint.org. To unsubscribe send "unsubscribe sinister" or "unsubscribe sinister-digest" to majordomo@missprint.org. WWW: http://www.missprint.org/sinister +-+ "sinsietr is a bit freaky" - stuart david, looper +-+ +-+ "legion of bedroom saddo devotees" "peculiarly deranged fanbase" +-+ +-+ "pasty-faced vegan geeks... and we LOST!" - NME April 2000 +-+ +-+ "frighteningly named Sinister List organisation" - NME May 2000 +-+ +-+ "sick posse of f**ked in the head psycho-fans" - NME June 2001 +-+ +-+ Nee, nee mun pish, chan pai dee kwa +-+ +-+ Snipp snapp snut, sa var sagan slut! +-+ +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+