Digital Archeology

These are excerpts i extracted from emails to one boy, over the years. I like what he inspired in me.



My phone died yesterday. The screen got darker and darker progressively throughout the day and then: done. Dark as the blackest nights in space. I guess it followed the light at the end of the tunnel. It probably knew I was about to break up with it, and it just couldn't bear the pain. I'm labeling it a suicide. I've moved on to a rebound phone, which I don't care for as much as the other, but i need something to fill the void.

There will be a wake at the dump, in remembrance of the times that we shared, and in commemoration of the strong impact that it had on the environment. All those memories in jpeg that we shared are now left to the ether.

I'm in the process of imploring Bill Gates to give the Eulogy. It may be a mass burial, for all the bits of technology that have died in the past year. And I hear the plasma screen is on its death bed, so if you have anything you'd like to say to plasma before it passes into the next dimension, you should get it off your chest before it's too late.

Plasma, I'd like to say "you will be missed" but I just don't think that's true.

After the service, the funeral procession will be hopping on a boat straight for China. They are currently in the lab figuring out new medicinal technologies for reviving such tragedies. There are mad scientists making zombies out of our discarded communication devices, microwaves, and tape decks. May god have mercy on their souls.



I've been in my head for the past couple weeks, floating away into the nothingness. flying away past the atmosphere, ionosphere, on and on...

and now i'm trying to get my feet back on the ground. My head is still trying to float away, but i'm digging my toes deep in the concrete, or soil when i can find it, making space for myself amongst the AIDS and broken glass. My head may be in the clouds, but my grip is steady.


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I've been slowly sifting through your library, getting rid of stuff and digging out lost amazing files. I feel like a digital archeologist.

Instead of a little brush to clean the information with, i use electromagnetic space as manipulated in its physical form with keys and code. The information I hunt is sound: the physical manifestation of invisible waves.



We, as humans, are the manifestation of communication on this planet. Our motherland is Africa, and Africa hosts the throat chakra center for the planet: Egypt. The throat chakra is the center of voice and communication. If it weren't for humanity's ability to communicate with one another and work together, we never would have made it this far. Our entire civilization vibrates, radiates, and pulses. We've swallowed our planet with radiowaves, microwaves, and infrared waves in the name of communication. And the rest of the electromagnetic spectrum is either on its way, or in quarantine. The more we communicate, the better we get. It is the key to the next step in our evolution.








Stardate 0819277465:

We have just passed the Gargamel Nebulae.
An astroid belt swims starboard.

Beware of space bergs...


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(in frustrated regards to teen americans during my study-abroad in Perugia, Italy):

"Amish no-shoe-wearin-livin-in-the-17th-century-minus-the-fuckin-random-dudes-every-night-low-self-esteem-american-bimbo-fleece-wearin-skiing-every-weekend-callin-mom-for-money-so-you-can-get-plowed-every-night-and-disgrace-your-country bimbo whores!!"


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i am writing with 1 finger on 1 hand
that took me more than a minute to write

My collarbone is like fresh produce, snapped for refreshment. i wish it was a week old: limp and forgiving.

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I don't think you're a fallen one. I think you are the SEEKER, chasing the molecule. Only the trouble is, you don't know what the molecule is. You're chasing a shadow.
You see it cast and know its donor is something marvelous and fantastic. You chase it, but never see more than the shadow. The object you desire is always around the next corner. At each turn, you are foiled. Your life is a quest for beauty. But when you find your beauty, it's not enough. It doesn't feel like you thought it would, which sends you off chasing another shadow. I hope you find what it is you are looking for.

h

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I'm watching the construction happen outside my
window. The equipment they have is crazy. There's a huge drill that appears to be drilling 50 feet or more. It just spins and
pushes its way in. I am watching the rape of the earth. Should I call a neighbor or just close the curtains? Someone aught to get that girl a whistle!

Strange and fantastic beasts made of metal and steel, awkward and precise, lumber like giants. They crane their long necks and take greedy mouthfuls of dirt, just to turn and spit it out immediately after. Bulimic robots.

It's neat.

I'm hungry like theoretical physics.
I feel weak like Stephen Hawking.

but i'm poor like Orphan Annie.

I got asked out last night by this guy that i know through the 321 Arts Collective. He was looking at me with those desperate and needy eyes that were reminiscent of so many eyes i've seen before. I told him i'm in love and he's sweet, to which he replied, "I only have so much love to give. I only have
so much love to give...and I want to give it all to someone. Just one." I nodded in agreement, "yeah, that's the way it should be." He asked me if he could make me dinner. I told him maybe some other time, but I've gotta find my lover right now.

It kind of made me sad.

I keep thinking about those desperate eyes. When I recognize them, I have a hard time looking into them. They're not even human, those eyes. They're more like a
wild animal's. A wild hungry animal that hasn't eaten
for days and it's reached the point that it'll rip the
first flesh apart it sees just to ease the pain in its stomach.

Those eyes scare me.



i would really like a hug. i could live in
one, i think. like a babe in womb.

you're really important. don't forget that.

h

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you are my special pickle pear who fell in the dirt
and is covered but you're still so sweet and
satisfying but you're pissed cuz you're on the ground
now and no one will pick you up and eat you. they
will, pretty pony, they will."

"Dearest sweetest boy,
ye who falls in love daily with a new petite flower
ye who can make any woman feel like she is the reason the sun rises in the east and that stars twinkle. You shine so radiantly and glow upon these unsuspecting innocent eyes that they fall into you and then don't know how to get out. All the while you feed off of their beauty, and they let you through their own budding narcicism. Sometimes I wish I was the object of which you adored, for your adoration makes flowers bloom. It opens the sky and shows you its secrets. But then I realized that your eyes are so fickle that the shadows would give me goose bumps. And my face cannot stand the test.

but you still make me smile. And I love the way you do. You make me laugh with such glee, I shine for days.

And I watch you fumble like a toddler on new legs, grasping at all these shiny objects around you, but when you grab each mysterious and beautiful bauble, you anger when it twinkles just as brightly for others as you. And you crack it open, hoping to find something so sweet and marvelous, you'll know that THIS is the reason why you search so long and THIS is the one that will fill you up so completely that you'll never feel empty again. But you open it up and it isn't magical sweetness at all. It's not the universe. There's no secrets. Only metal.

and this sends you again on your quest. crackin each egg open and finding not the thing you seek.

I hope you find that thing you seek, boy.

For you are a beautiful creature that has so much love to give, you would explode if you kept it all inside of you. And I understand that. just be careful about where you put it. For not all petite flowers can withstand such weight. And don't blame them if they crumble under it. It's not their fault.

they just can't withstand

I love you, my dear

hailey"


"I spent 3 days in orympia with gorgeous gorgeous
people and it was so nice. i am covered in bruises.
we sat in underwear by the river and did cartwheels on
a golf course. we climbed trees and played leap frog
in the park. We made a pyramid out of people and I
was on top. We climbed into the root hobbit hole of a
tree on the beach at dusk and drank champagne and then
skipped rocks with our silouettes. I was wearing
running shorts and a funny wig.

It was the most gorgeous weekend. I was mobbing with
10 of the funnest craziest olympians ever for 3 solid
days. I stole 5 bottles of champagne. Do you know how
hard it is to steal 5 bottles of champagne? It's
really hard.

i'm not lying. it's real tuff.

i'm tuff. like the incredible hulk. Me and joshua got
drunk and boxed and i'm covered in bruises. It was so
fucking fun. We beat the crap out of eachother. I
like tough love. I like it when boys aren't afaid to
box with me. I can hold my own. Just don't hit me so
hard I die or fly.

i don't want to fly or die.

You are a lonely man who looks for love in all the
wrong places.

I am a lonely woman who sees love in all the right
places, but i'm shopping and don't have any money.

window shopping. besides, everyone's happy without
me. and i have funny hair. and crooked teeth. no one
likes that.

not even me.

I guess I should be a filmo. cuz film people always
are socially inept and ugly.

well, 85% of them. the ones that make it anyway.
think of george. man, what an ugly guy."


"

why don't witches wear underwear?

so they have a better grip on their broom.



that one is funny. I just did a handstand and now my
eyes are witnessing funny balls of light flying around
me like molecules. it's probably blood cells bursting
in my brain. made to seem like i can see into the
molecular structure of any given object.

like sunsets in LOSt ANGELESt...they're only pretty
until you think about why they're so pretty. Smog,
pollution, and the dissintegrating ozone layer. not
so pretty anymore, is it?

okay, yeah, it is kinda pretty still.

whatever.

As an artist, i live for hipocracy (all the while
bashing it) and so,

i must go with that."

"you are my right eye. my crooked sacrum. my unspoken
words.

And sometimes I wish i made more time for such
maladies as sitting. as sadness. as lost causes.

but there's just too much to do. i miss being ahead of
the game. now i'm just riding on it's back.

and i don't really know what to say other than



you, i like you."




"

This is part of an amazing series that Isabella Rossellini wrote and stars in called Green Porno. They go into the sexual habits of various insects. It blew my mind. Watch all of them

Uh Oh album cover for Huh-Uh

Uh Oh album cover for Huh-Uh, originally uploaded by hailingcomets.

This is the whimsically tragic cover-in-progress i'm working on for the new Huh-Uh album, Uh Oh!