The Nojomo prompts today are about what you would change in the past year and what you look forward to in the upcoming one. Some believe that past and future are constructs of culture, that they are a prison that enslaves us all.
"now is the only thing that's real" - Timothy Leary
Real or not I believe that you can direct your future by setting of goals and taking actions to achieve them.
This year I want to get a new band together, maybe one who wears funny hats.
This year I want to have more art published in unexpected places. Like the lower back of easy women or snuck into the Tate Gallery as Banksy did with his work.
This year I want to travel somewhere dangerous and beautiful, somewhere you can get kidnapped for your nationality and beheaded in a 3 million year old jungle.
This year I want to see more live music, in scuzzy venues where you can get the clap from toilet seats and in opera houses with vaulted ceilings laced in gold. No middle ground.
This year I want to buy a house, a Victorian mansion, a place near the seashore, or a townhouse above the living streets, where you can hear the policemen tackle local derelicts at night.
This year I want to own a real piano. I used to break into a church to play on one, synthesizers just can't duplicate the feel of strings and illegal ivory.
Those are the things I am looking forward to. I would change nothing in the last year, you should always live without regret. Or at least be intoxicated enough to not remember your regrets.
Yesterday I talked to a new music producer I may work with, helped a friend find some old lost art and explored a mysterious tunnel underneath our porch which lead to a world where badgers rule and humans are relegated to nothing more than slaves.
Today the water company dug up concrete all day literally right in front of our door. They left an enormous pit filled with rusted pipes that could impale you when you walk out the door. Perhaps this is part of the installation of the solicitor trap I ordered. Perhaps this is a front for the FBI to watch us, making notes about all the minute details of our day.
12:20 PM: SUSPECT A SAT IN HIS OFFICE PLAYING GUITAR BADLY FOR 20 MINUTES BEFORE BREAKING A STRING.
12:42 PM: SUSPECT A HAD ORANGE JUICE AND COLD MEDICINE.
12:44 PM: SUSPECT PEED WITHOUT WASHING HIS HANDS AFTERWORDS
12:46 PM: SUSPECT WALKED UP TO THE WALKED OUT TO THE PIT WE DUG AND HIGH FIVED AGENT CARLSON WITH THOSE HANDS. EW.
So the pit remains, rain fills the agents listening equipment and trickles down into the badgerworld below our house in a glorious litter-filled waterfall. We are all dying and we are all free. We are all planning and we are all fighting the possibility of regret that watches over our shoulder like an ominous perverted shadow. Watch your watchers. Admire your admirers. Be here. Be now. Be free.