#sometimes when im typing down that james is lame i don’t even mean it. like i’ll be thinking as i type it that’s not true. not at all. and

[loverscrossmp3]

the worst thing about james i think is he’s just…. objectively cool. he’s got the looks, the humor, the likability. the money, even!! tough for him though bc lily and i see right through it and will continue on calling him lame despite what literally all the other signs point to xx

[aramkrikorian-blog]

10-9-2018

waking up. tired. rain. rain on the boots. the boots are torn. shoes. are wet. leather shoes. uncomfortable shoes. comfortable shoes. the daily walk. walking in uncomfortable shoes. ears clogged. not sick. ears jammed up. sticking fingers into ears with toilet paper when in the bathroom. library. salvation army. need to take a piss. need to take a shit. bathrooms. looking for bathrooms. embarassed. look like shit. haven’t showered in a bit. lighters are dead. no flame for cigarettes. the rain. it ruins the cigarette shorts i collect off the ground. talking to myself. not really. lots of people doing real life following. they want me to participate in interactive games with the audience. im not a star. im not taylor swift. she shouldn’t do politics yet. she doesn’t know what she’s talking about. democrats. republicans. green party. lame . parties. people. birthdays. rain. dogs. leashes. masters. slaves. negative conditioning. positive associations. flashbacks. larissa. lory. jessica. ashkhen. hasmig. who and what happened and where am i. did the babies really get aborted. are people messing with my mind. the information. is it true. not true. ears clogged. i can barely hear sarcastic remarks. god is watching over it all. proverbs. Better to live in a desert than with a quarrelsome and nagging wife. peacock in the desert. seattle. pike street. pike market. prospect park. GAR cemetary. ducks. weird tattoo store. weird tattoo aesthetic. cornish college. security guards. smoking cigarettes. asking for cigarettes. not comfortable. SEATAC. orcas. the oceans. pier 70. pier 66. starbucks. starbucks reserve. st james church. gospel mission. millinair club. tweakers. not that many. many or not. not known. know nobody. alone. thoughts. suicide. Virginia Mason hospital. lutheran church. food. food under the bridge. housing help. library on 4th street. newspapers. news. 90 minutes of internet time. homeless resource guide. backpack stolen. all work gone. no more work to look over. wanted a house on frontenac. didn’t get it. went to ferrari dealership - you say you’re a gangsta but you never popped nothing. you’re a real wanksta. songs. curses. nirvana. cause i’ve found god - rethinking what i said about kurt cobain. he is dangerously not well in Lithium. sounds llike the psychiatrists put pills in him and he blew his brains out or heroine or the pain of his wife... she breaks mirrors. weird flashbacks. lorys brother was administerered lithium wh en i was administered seroquel. psychopharma DEATH TOLL. bodies keep stacking. kurt cobain. lithium. lake washington blvd - curt cobains house. i didn’t know. i did a free navigation of the city. i felt things, bro. now i regret what i said about kurt cobain. lady was wearing a nirvana song list tshirt. bruce lee and brandon lee’s graves. crows. bible... scarecrows. 3-6 mafia lord infamous used to call me scaRECROW what is this... where am i. same motifs. same symbols. used by different people at different times. 1 big symbolic soup. trying to make sense of it. untangle it. which came first the word crow or pigeon. beautiful pigeons. appearance of pigeons in ones timeline over time. typing in the library. ‘the kind of kind guy that won’t take no for an answer’ - wanting to buy a house on frontenanc and give it to brent and tim ... tim gave me an umbrella. brent hooked it up with cigarettes - lighter. they were good guys. lyft people circling around. feel guilt and shame resentment everywhere. saved by the dell poster. PRIVATE PROPERTY everywhere - including the seattle sports stadium ... safeco field? seahawks lose to larams - kendrick lamar. lemurians of mt shasta. greyhound... buses. the animals. a great dane takes a fat piss on 700 7th ave...  the courthouse night, doing a speech. finding weed on ground smoking it. speaking at the school ... getting more weed. fed a larabar. ara. ara gets funding again in march. rosenstein is out? cohen is out? melania is in africa - visits a former slave in ghana. beautiful work. thank you mr and mrs trump. kushner? scooby dooby doo. airbnb ... valuations. memories. pains. people. upgrades and promotions. growth. new ideas. scholarships. college. essays. schools. making sure the kids are going to be safe. at least putting a line on the older ones and going to go back and ensure the road is well paved for the younger ones. newspaper room 6th floor. bathrooms on floor 7 of library also on floor 1... and maybe on 3 and 4.. .but not sure. haven’t been higher than floor 7 as far as i recall. lady in front of library - obese with lighter and cigarette - i ask her for a light she says “why are you chasing me?” - not a question. it is a question. it is something inside of a question. an accusation. a false accusation. a controversial, extremely controversial false accusation. it implies more. profile equivalent of a stalker. im not a stalker. a chaser. but i will become one if she wants me to. if the shoe fits ill wear it. or ill just wear it once and throw it away anyway. copy and paste this text and put it into a text to speech application and just listen to it ... let me know if it sounds good. borrow phrases from it. let it brainwash you. because it’s all real. really really really really real. kim and kanye. blessings. armenians. what the heck. little children in library walking around... happy looking. global warming. will it kill all the little children that look so innocent to my eye. and to my eye the world looks ok. but to the instruments... they’re reading something else. that’s how gas kills doesn’t it... it didn’t smell. it just killed. mount olympia. sculpture garden at the pier has a lot of gardners but a lot more dog shit. its impossible to sit in the grass. there was SO MUCH dog shit there. mcdonalds sued for a million dollars. dont do it. all these ridiculous articles on Medium. i joined medium but i cant even press a button to write. ridiculous. double daniels. daniel lives here. so does erin treg. ill try to not mention too many names i guess. maybe they can comment on posts and take them out. fuck ilya golub. fuck olga. fuck all those people. nikolai and m8s and ara and etc etc. let them live their lives but these are weenie people. someone should keep a permanent weenie hat on their heads. stop stuffing dicks into everyones head aram. stop it. note to self. exercise more discipline in the language that i use. lockwood... he was an author who blew his braINS OUT. but he was typing like an animal in the family garage. he released a book. i wish one day i can get back to literature reading again. i miss pynchon. i miss delillo. did they write any new books. are they still alive? im going to check google right now and trust the answer. dellilo alive. i heard roth died. 5-22-2018. wow . the number 22. number of hebrew characters in the alphabet. the number of arab league countries. 22 is a heptagonal number. which means 7 sided polygon number. who knows what that means. its just important. who knows. philip roth died on 5 - 22 - 2018. wow. i miss his work. american paradise or something or portnoy’s complaint. who was that guy. i remember being in oregon 4 years ago and digging deep into literature. is my brother dead? did shant eat a heroine shot? people on the bus were saying weird things. is my father dead? i don’t even know. i remember jolie writing things on the wall. like prophecy that turned into reality. maybe the whole thing was a joke. the name. keith. she used names. she said things. JR JR JR> what is JR.. it’s on the inside of larissa lip . who knows. maybe real or not. nick. wtf. heroine. fresno. people talking to me. gangs this that. greatful dead family. where are we. what is this. acid. meth. heroine. crack brillo pads. what is all this. what happened. where is everyone. dope shooters. not a lot of people left around - “ Cage The Elephant - Shake Me Down - YouTube “ urban dictionary. JR> some caring guy. larissa’s boyfriend. hope they’re still together. been talking out loud to her. sometimes i feel her. saw a lookalike of Lory. or i actually saw lory. maybe when larissa and i were in santa cruz.. we were being watched and played for fools. she kept saying she saw nicole. the aramark logo. the mark from seattle. the people out there. here. chris while. erin triggie. daniel ex of jessica. who knows what people do. say. where am i. what has happened to me. how am i homeless. what is this. what happened to me. i used to be an OG. lol. what am i now. can i even handle it. unlikely candidate. why do people even half respect me. what is going on. scholarships. colleges. high school kids applying for colleges. stanford early application this year is november 1... and the regular is january 2. i remember 2004 applying for fafsa and all that. scholarships. this that. getting accepted. man. SAT scores are still going. its insane how out of touch you get despite trying hardest to stay in touch. eventually the kids evict you themselves. couple library rats tried to trade me bluetooth headset for some molly in front of library and for some crystal. i said no to both. i saw mad guy tweaking dancing fuckin hard at millionair club today - i looked at him and said “brother i love you so i dont want to see you here, like this, ok?” - where is HOMIE RESCUE TEAM - what are we going to do? should we just laugh at this guy. should we just let him die off. should we kill him? what do you think? i have to read news... china and america. usa. and china. and korea. and russia. and some games and calm down and 110 billion dollar pump into USA. turkey and saudi arabia ... and pushing and shoving and ghana and america visits and angola 500 million president running to london who knows... where are we.. like flies buzzing around on The Blue Marble. what happened to sitting at home and enjoying one another in peace. where is my wife. why do i call her my wife. im forgiving people. im rescuing people. im saying im going to quit cigarettes. people look so shady. they look so protective over their assets. ive lost more than i think or know or can count or i dont know whats going on. 

i wanted a ferrari 812 a portofino i saw was pretty i like the color rosso and i wanted a 488 spider and a home on frontenac and i wanted a powerboat like 70 footer or 77′ and i wanted to go to bahamas or caribbean and have sex with my wife and procreate and have children and relax and sleep and rest and have a home on 18 acres in snoquamish and all that stuff and have a Dodge ram 2500 

just read about Satyrs for the first time. rams and satyrs and greece and dionysus and debauchery and Pan and apollo and challenging gods and losing and winning and secretive & lustful and wanting to fuck and permanent erection (piss boner) - very interesting. 

also very interesting is the PT Barnum effect ... basically .. .have you ever had a boner? have you ever wanted to have sex with many women? have you ever flirted with a woman? h ave you ever challenged someone bigger than your own size (like David?) - who knows. Ram. Aram. Random Access Memory. bighorn ram. it was in a shooting game i played on hunting game on computer a long time ago. 

gods .. shoot downs. being destroyed. FLAYED Alive. the Flaying of Tarsus. hubris. arrogance. humility. cold. hot. 

there is this fucking idiot laughing in the library. this fucking tool idiot. he is in the library and he laughs like a clown. i wish joe pesci were here so he can jam and smash on the guy. but he’s not so if i do it. in front of the cameras. it will pr;obably get me into some sort of toruble. who knows. anyway. 

iris murdoch. philip roth. thomas pynchon. all these people. time passes. pynchon delillo still alive still kicking. 

birth days were the worst days. slowly getting over the doldrums. what is it called. weighing yourself down . idioms. expressions. the power of idioms. lists of idioms. lists of ethnic slurs. lists of sociological terms. lists of profiling terms. lists of lists. endless lists of words and referrents and objects and feelings. 

Jimmy hendrix park seattle. the numbered avenues. Ballard. the draw bridges. the seaplanes. the boeing. the SAM . art museum. the fountains. the trees and parks. the lake washington. the lake union. the puget sound. the alaskan viaduct project. 4 months. all the little pieces of seattle. the 4 seasons. the goldfinch bar. the bars. the loyal inn. mark matthews park. he was a presbyterian minister. here we are. some guy still laughing so i told him to shut up bro that hes fucking annoying. then another guy joins in... he does a little goat laugh. so i fucken do a sheep laugh too. fuck these guys. play whack a mole all day. 

seattle is amazing. minus these idiots in it. can someone genocide them. or get rid of their bodies tonight and feed them to the orcas k25 and k13 ? .. k13 is dead. k25 is getting skinny. 

The latest official count is 77 orcas among the three pods. That reflects the death of K-13, a 45-year old female named Skagit.

the count of orcas is 77 orcas. i wanted a 77 or 70 foot yacht. i wanted to call it Septuagint. there are al ot of 7s in the bible. 

oh Gosh. oh man. david reigned for 7 years 6 months. 76. 67.  6s and 7s. 42s. wow. and 7 male descendants of Saul hung before the lord. 7s. the 7 times 77 forgiveness.. yesterday the sevenfold punishments in leviticus. i like stuff like this alot. 

7 for all mankind - i remember such days. the time is 12:12 Pm on 10/9/2018. 

who knows these things ... the Lord is playing on all tracks concurrently. im less annoyed. i see all these defective personas in one day. i dont know why. but its getting better. people getting chin checked. a lot of people getting tagged. 

the rats are getting smashed on worldwide. Meng. etc etc. interpol. this that. internationally. locally, domestically. the Great Awakenings. when we enter into slumbers and turn into zombies turn into psychic vampires. we need to clean the algae every once in a while or else there’s just bodies and piles of bodies of humans. we dont really care about the dead of the past. we really dont’ give a shit or dedicate any time to remembering or researching the dead of the past. a list of wars by death toll. largest natural disasters by death toll. 

to have faith. to try to pray to God. to say im not here to destroy the catholic church. people say and come up with the worst and weirdest things. if you can only see this writing post you will see i hop around so many places. 

a poison dart frog, a dog, a porcupine, a snake, a cow - i’ve been compared to such animals. after a while all the terms of endearment eventually get to me.. its annoying its not cute. people speak they did the worst things to me and im pretty done for trying to recover. maybe i will maybe i wont maybe someone will kill me or ill magically die.. it wont matter - i see that kurt cobain and bruce and brandon and jimmi hendrix theryre all dead and the stars are all dead the “stars” ... revelation says 

Revelation 6:13 and the stars of the sky fell to the earth, like unripe figs

and the woman and the dragon and the red dragon ... and ir ead revelation and imagined myself as satan last year but i dont think so. i think the others are satan becasue they twisted my brains in and out.. and i cant wait for the rest of revelation to be carried out so that i can witness the end of the world. im very tired of how twisted and disgusting things have become.. im not just angry or wrathful.. i would like to actually see the end of the world... i would like to see Jesus im going to try and be ok until that happens. .. and its so sad that people are just.. .its so sad. 

https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Revelation+12&version=NKJV

love, 

aram krikorian

[cashmierathoughts]

Riley ‘Nem pt. 6: The Meeting

I got to work promptly at 7:45 that morning. I went over some figures for one of my private accounts then flipped through Riley’s team’s presentation proposal. I’d gone over it so many times that the staples were loose and dangling from the top of the page. I always had my assistant contact Riley’s assistant days prior, in hopes of getting my hands on a copy of her notes. I don’t know why but I felt entitled to knowing everything there was to know about her – especially before anyone else.

I entered the boardroom and first noticed all the whites in the room and then acknowledged all the blacks in the room with a subtle head nod. it was like the secret handshake into the ‘blacks only club’ in any setting. It was to let other blacks know that we were in this together. I took a seat at the head of the table and scanned the room for her. There she was. She was on her way to take her seat near the front of the room with the rest of her cohort. Dougleman’s fat ass rolled in, talking fast and not saying shit, as usual. He began passing out the handouts with his stubby cheeto-colored fingers. When he approached me, trying to slide me a copy, I politely but firmly declined, and signaled to him with my hand letting him know that his gesture was unneeded. 

Pause. I know what you’re probably thinking, “why did he just kill that nigga like that?”. Just know, there’s a reason for everything I say and do. 

I looked over and caught her glance. Her almond colored eyes quickly turned away and looked back down at her pages. Damn, did she think I was ugly? Was she annoyed that I was looking? It wasn’t the time or the place and I had a lot of shit on my mind so I refocused my attention to the account. 

Before I knew it; I was thinking about the hit from the other night and missed the whole presentation. When I came to, they were exiting the front of the room and heading back to their seats. 

“Would you mind going over those figures again from last quarter?”, I interjected. 

Tom got up and started for the podium. What the hell was he doing? I was hoping Riley would take the bate and use this as an opportunity to show the rest of the board members how valuable she was. I wasn’t sure if she was aware of this or not, but the board was thinking about giving Emily the promotion next quarter. Emily was the new, fresh, white face that just so happened to be Dougleman’s niece. 

“Uh, actually, I was hoping that Riley would take the lead and brief us on this one, Tom.” The words left my mouth before I could even calculate how this would make me look. I never spoke up for anyone around here. I was sort of a one-man show.. I looked down the aisle of faces and stopped at hers. Her eyes were wide with surprise and she quickly looked away from me and back down at the stack of papers in front of her. As she swayed past Tom, I couldn’t help but to let my eyes trace the silhouette of her shape as she made her way to the forefront. 

Just as she began to talk, my eyes zoomed in and halted at her mouth; I lost myself in the sound of her voice. Her lips were full but not big, juicy but not smothering. They were two shades of brown, her top lip being a deeper shade than the bottom. She definitely had my attention, as well as that of a few others in the room. I looked over and saw that nigga Tom giving her the same look as I. He didn’t stand a chance. Hell, I didn’t even know if I did, but I knew for a fact that nigga didn’t. He paid her way too much attention and from my experience, women only go for those type of guys after they’ve been fucked over a few times by Mr. Wrong. Never really understood that logic, but it definitely saved me some time and effort along the years. 

Me, on the other hand, I wasn’t looking to fuck her over, but I also wasn’t about to let her think she could sucker me. I had to find that balance because I was definitely curious and I usually get what I want. And I wanted HER. 

I tried to stay concentrated on what Riley was saying up at the podium. I mean, shit, I did ask her to go up there and I hadn’t heard a word the girl had said. Occasionally, I would nod my head or flip through the handout, pretending to be following along with the rest of the group, knowing damn well that I was lost than a mothafucka. As she pointed to the projector screen with the infrared pen, she reached up and her skirt kind of bunched up, cuffing her ass. Damn. It was a nice cuff too, not too much ass, but enough to play with. The kind of ass that would probably intimidate those who were un-southern, but enough to make you wanna bite it – longterm. My mind started to wander… I wondered what she smelled like. I bet she smelled like a warm field of lavender and honey. I wondered what she tasted like.. I bet she tasted like nothing I’d ever had before. 

I gathered my thoughts and attempted to jot down notes concerning the presentation. I only got down two bullet points before I started to just scribble shit. I wrote and rewrote my signature a few times, then I started to loosely sketch asses. Big butts, small butts, cute asses, fake asses; it didn’t really matter, I just had an affinity for ass. 

A buzzing in my left suit jacket pocket distracted me from my already distracting thoughts and I quickly glanced at the phone and ignored the call. “The fuck was she doing calling me in the middle of the day for?” Luckily, Riley was finishing up with the quarterly figures segment. For what seemed like a grip, she was paused and was just kind of staring into space – I wondered if anyone else in the meeting caught it; outside of Tom. I don’t know what the hell she was looking at but she cleared her throat and quickly finished. 

The meeting was coming to a close and I wanted to get her attention. Say something to her. Anything. But she grabbed her belongings and booked it for the door so fast that I didn’t even get a chance to speak. I tried to gather my things as well and make a discrete exit, but I was cornered by the VP and a couple other faceless big wigs and was forced to participate in “white folk” corporate banter. 

“…You should come out and hit the course with us sometime, Jake.”, offered Dougleman.

I adjusted my head and neck to make sure that he knew I had to look down on him to make eye contact and replied, “ Golf isn’t really my sport. I’ll have to pass.” 

I don’t know why he was showing out in front of the other executives. He knows damn well that I don’t golf, furthermore, he knows I don’t fuck with him and he knows why. Inviting me to “hit the course” and shit. Pssshid. Nigga please. 

“How about basketball, then?”, Dougleman combatted in a pompous tone. 

Pause.

No this nigga didn’t. Did this nigga really just ask me to HOOP!!!? First of all,  I would obliterate this nigga on the court. I was trying to keep myself from playing the race card when another one of our superseding counterparts chimed in, “Don’t cha just love that Lebron James, Jake? You know, you remind me of him. I was just telling my son that the other day.” 

Aw hell nawl. It was time to go. Typical. Just because I’m a brotha who likes to hoop, which let me remind you, is NOT an anomaly, I remind this nigga of Lebron James? Fuck outta here. I kept my Malcolm X rant to myself and laughed off the comparison, 

“Oh I wouldn’t want to embarrass you, Hank. Ha ha ha.” On that note, I exited. 

I felt corny as hell. And on my way out, Tom slithered by me and said, “Good meeting…Lebron.” I laughed it off and made a comment about how he and Durant must have the same barber. Tom was he kind of hatin’ ass nigga that would be cool with you in your face but throw salt when you weren’t around. A real lame nigga. So I tolerated him because it was my job to do so, but he would never get away with that shit outside the confines of this high-rise. 

Finally, I made it back to my office. I checked my phone, thinking I’d see an alert about the liquor license for the party I was throwing this Saturday. Nope. Nothing. So I sat there and waited. I text my contractor/my nigga since the third grade and asked him what the hold up was. 

“Wassup with the license, Germ? Hit me back ASAP”

Bored as hell and not in the mood to actually start “working”, I scrolled through the company instant message list to see who was online. Scrolling…scrolling…scrolling…Adams, Arnold,….scrolling..Biggs, Bonds..Bowerman, Bradley! Bradley comma Riley.

I peered intensely at the small icon that everyone at the company was forced to take for photo identification. It was a corky picture of her, I’m sure like most people, she hated it; but it was something about her that made me look past the picture. I clicked on her name and opened the IM tool. Our conversation history was blank. We’d never really had a conversation but I was dying to know how she thought..what she thought..

I thought about sending her a message, but decided against it. I grabbed the miniature orange Spalding ball from inside my desk and shot it at the rim that hung on the back of my office door. (The irony. I actually did love ball. I just wasn’t about to let Dougleman use it as a stereotype against me.) I made a small wager with myself: If I make three shots in a row, I’ma write the girl. If I don’t make these shots, I’ma leave it alone. 

I put the first shot up. Swish. Second shot, too easy. Third..BRICK! 

Welp, that sums it up. I guess it wasn’t meant to be. I spun around in my chair a few times, tossing the ball in the air and catching it. Then I scrolled the TL for a few minutes, stopping at every Plies rant and catching a few quick laughs. That nigga was a foo. Checked my phone, still no word from Germ. I wasn’t surprised though. He was a “last minute” type of nigga. Germ always waited until the last minute to do everything. Waited ‘till the last minute to tell his folks that he was few credits shy of graduating college. Literally, they were parking their car in the arena lot, getting ready to enter the ceremony. This nigga even had on a cap and gown! Knowing damn well he wasn’t hitting the stage. He waited ‘till the last minute to get his license.. (last minute being three years ago);  although, he was the first one of us to have a ride. Worst of all, Germ waited ‘till the last minute to pull out; which explains why I have four god kids. 

Besides all that, the man had remarkable luck. Any contest he’d ever entered in, he won. Won the Roosevelt Jr. High Spelling Bee and hadn’t even looked at the vocabulary list. It got to the point that the radio stations were calling HIS ASS to let him know that he’d won raffles that other people had entered him in. How that shit works, I have no idea. And although we were very different, that was my best friend. He was the only person outside of my folks that I’d ever trusted. To say I had ‘trust issues’ is played, but y'all know how it goes. 

My reflection was interrupted by a chime alerting me that I’d gotten a text. It was from Germ. 

“Yea, nigga. I got u. Its handled.”

“Bet.” 

Bet. Now I could contract the liquor in bulk and get everything set in stone for this damn party. 

I don’t know if I was on a high because everything was falling in place with the party or what, but I clicked on Riley’s IM icon and saw that she was still online, so I hit her up. 

“Good job today during the presentation. If you would like any assistance on the next one, let me know and we can” ..do it? work together? Na..”..we can get together”. 

“Getting together” implied that it would be work related but not strictly business; a little fluidity was allowed. I waited nervously for a response. The little bubbles at the bottom of the message arose, letting me know that she was typing something back. Then they disappeared. What was the hold up? Shit. Either you tryna get together or you not. I was pressed. Damn. Just as I was trying to hold on to my last fuck to give, I heard my desktop ping. The alerting sound drowned my ego back into its shell. I took a deep breath, hoping she’d accepted my advance and quickly scanned the screen, reading her reply. 

“Thank you. I’d like that.”

“Thank you. I’d like that.”, I repeated aloud to myself, trying to figure out what her tone might have been. At first glance, it seemed mundane, but she definitely accepted my bid so that left room for possibility and possibilities are endless..