Justin Hall's personal site growing & breaking down since 1994

watch overshare: the story contact me

30 may, 1996
early morning loadup for a longtrip
barkin' back at them dogs they're finally silence

packin' up, I substitute the bible for the tao and lives of the saints in my toolbelt keep in the i ching

billy reboard at billy stoner semi-constant cough next to me
he's twenty two, a gemini,
his return from a bum door to door magazine subscription sales job that required twelve sales a day to avoid sales class at night

goin' back to kansas, which isn't as cool or friendly as austin where I'm goin' soon
he shows me some sweet leaf cigars he's got in a pouch
you can buy them anywhere, and they beat blunts, cuz you can unroll them easy

billy ain't brought nothin' to read so I lend him ken wilbur's brief history of everything
he reads it with his finger tracing the reading lines

he digs it - wow, this is profound.

hixtalkers behind me

you'll know when you get to texas,
it's like walkin' into a dark room
and turnin' on the laht.


first texas restop orange
hippy chick on her way to the rainbow gathering
inside 12 dollars'll buy you the head of a junior alligator

hungry, long trip ahead, I buy too many pringles and a chicken salad n' white bread sammich

billy sez I should try some V8 - never have before,
seems the only way to ingest veggies here
much sodium! dehydratein' for flavour

billy stones himself

outlying huston is purely car care and nightclubs

I help him throw the i ching, he asks

what's in kansas?
he gets
persistence and constant pitfalls
bus shot every day I eat one big shitty meal, lots of grease lots of bread
like charlie, god bless his heart, he had white bread and american cheese (optional mustard) to get me through all of wednesday, followed up by an evening meal of oyster po boys - fried food on massive buns
otherwise I can eat food on the road means I have to eat in greyhound stations - mass food production provided by any one of a number of grease sugar and salt stomach bombers, anything near the station is something similarly unenlightened, and expensive to boot
certainly my attempts to eat local/regional cuisine have amounted to pretty much fried meat stuff, with flour.
there's never enough broccoli.
I never get more than three hours of straght sleep,
bus shot if I'm at a place where there's a bed, I sleep only a little, cuz there's a phone line and I'm behind in updating my web pages.
otherwise I sleep on the greyhound, so my neck and back are become frozen in any one of a number of unspeakable muscle cramp positions
I can feel my health as a result rapidly deteriorating, painful zits have appeared around my mouth
I'm plagued by intermittent low level headaches
my shoes, worn from heavy walking, are sloped at angles turn me duck footed
I broke my glasses so I'm wearing an old pair means I have to squit to see stuff
I would get them fixed, but I'm never in any one place long enough to deal with it
and even in such an event, I am too occupied with either media making or experience to come down to the ground
except when I remember that I think I'm getting a cyst on my foot
and everybody I hang out with smokes, and so I develop second hand bronchitis

bus shot between my hair, my coloured clothes, my computer, getting off the bus and doing tai chi warmups, people greet me with such quizzical stares I've taken to saying I'm from either jupiter or the internet.

down southeast, seemed everyone on greyhound was black
now, everyone is hispanic

there's a little boy with lots of silver in his teeths

corpus christi houses on stilts, driving over a long bridge to get here

imelda my hostess is wear fly glasses, overalls and short hair
her friend kate with superblonde hair
they're both young, the youngest so far

imelda and kate at eli's

I'm in alternaradland corpus christi
eli's eclectic eatery open mike perfection
this place serves ostrich and emu and water buffalo
sitting poets and broad brimmed guitarisists
me, I'm from out of town
but only some kids pay me mind - it's like so many dramas
it's like just out of high school
I'm sitting with the moderately stoned the indeffable trendy hip
the first four girls I meet are tongue pierced
(imelda was first)
the guys are thrift store shoppers
the goths and punks are over there,
the less cool somewhere else

this event has been profiled in the paper
so like weird people are showing up
adults and beer drinkers and stuff
they're carding cuz an undercover's reported

tempted am I by exotic eats but can't stomach killing them
so I eat tuna with mango avocado and a side of banana molasses ketchup

pretty good, fresh

I meet ismael, friend is seeking spiritual, looking into i ching
he asks me outside to help him throw a question

during dimitri's cover of i would for you
where's the happiness in my life?
water on water is constant pitfalls - familiar from billy
changing lines to happiness

open mike time
why so many poets sit down? read from flatbooks flatly

I cut loose


crowd view crowd viewed

once, introduction, this is a visitor from the internet
I'm wavin' my hands over my head shakin' some dancin' a little screaming definitely about the potential for personal publishing and the wonderful effect the internet has had on my life
people responded well, said they hadn't seen so much energy up there
folks yellin' sayin' teach me!
one, dave offered me a place to stay

grim john punk wanting to talk, john got an edge to him drawn over his flesh head bald and arms with semi-permanent marker
adversarial over technology but amicable in discussion and I think he liked actually listened to shit
young, got like a lot of opinions, and insistent on standing alone, or just out
I encouraged him to channel that energy into publishing - it worked for me.

the most prettiest woman
at least dolled up well was tara
handed me a scrap of paper seeductive
just had her e-mail looking for my web
so I leaneed against the bar and chatted
with a navy entertainment recruiter in a bright powder blue skirt ensemble, one hanging sculp-tress and a convertible
she's a poet - won't feel comfortable get up and read her "erotic" works
she seemed stimulated but it wasn't going anywhere - I felt drawn back to my friends, bye bye
looking over a parting postcard
a nude - she's lovely, she sez
so are you, say I, and I laugh
she looks crestfallen
hey, sorry it was too easy! laugh some more

she's not in on the joke

imelda said like a crazy munchkin second time on stage, drum circle
ismael just dancin' and chantin' speakin' in toungues and keepin' time
askin' where is your soul, readin' some jive from a sheet and then just
sweatin' like crazy
I danced much twichin' and then all of the above
crazy sweatin'

late jam as the evening wound down and eli's emptied
left up on stage were the folks "who couldn't find a place to practice"

the sound of cats having sex in a meat grinder
some kid kevin really likes feedback

enough in the audience with cocktail napkins in my ears, I join them
scream some about dead dads

it's summertime in corpus christi
I'm in an unairconditioned house that sleeps four
tonight it was packed with teenagers and barely beyonds
smoking pot drinking beer playing instruments making plans

trish and dave and pute some of them play with my computer
mike, one of the dwellers plans for 5th street productions
it was he that organized the open mike
wants to plan festivals, drum circles, a newsletter

a web page

chiba chiba now the kitten resident "chiba" is climbing on my keyboard
I'm sleeping on a downstairs couch

there were some cute women at the party tonight

not anything I could broach.

next | may '96 | prev

daze | justin's links

justin's links |

justin hall | <justin at bud dot com>