No big deal is still a deal. Its okay if there is no sales tax, and you get your electronics and mp3 player at a discount. I went to the love of my life and had nothing to say in regards to worry. I am just going crazy in my memBRAIN. My life is content driven. I can’t drive. I am bologne to my cheese.
Archive for the 'life' Category
10
Feb
No Big Deal
Just recently in this new decade animal voting has become a concern for animal rights activists. The U.S. Presidential election could have been swayed to a third party given the chance of uninformed voters such as pets, stray critters, and zoo friends. The first start towards advancing suffrage for animals would be readily available identification cards. Collar I.D.s and neck tags have become popular as well as microchips, but none of these can be used at ballot booths.
A controversial aspect of this is measuring the intelligence of various species. The IQ test is skewed with cultural bias toward homosapiens. Yet no other cognitive aptitude has met the success of this pressing issue. Some extremists are insisting on amoeba and bacteria representation for elections and voting events of the government. It is about time someone has stepped to the plate to discuss these matters. The mass media has stifled this movement for years and it is finally getting press in local independent and DIY newspapers, magazines, and articles.
It’s about time elephants and donkeys actually have access to their voice in how things are run. Keep an eye on your nearest king of the jungle about the US amendment to instate animal suffrage.
06
Apr
Friends don’t mix
social interaction
interactionary involvement.
I am the universal anti-monger
surrounded by internal affairs,
conflicts of interpersonal environments,
where insecurities describe splits among people.
who we choose to be with should be an equal push-pull.
Fragility sometimes causes imbalance.
weights are self-handed to weak fingers.
when all of those you know divide
and get conquered, all you have
is yourself, to trust at your own discretion
To rebuild steps.
08
Nov
passed futurism
talk about furutism…
The artistic movement “futurism” is past tense.
I was thinking of this painting (can’t remember artist or title) of a (wheel?) in motion.
There are things not seen with the naked eye but with photography and film we’ve been able to “slow things down” (not literally of course).
And “flying rod” exobiological theory. They’re essentially rods that fly….*you can only see them on slowed down camera footage*
There was something I thought of about the reasoning of the people that want to believe in flying rods that is similar to the ideals of futurism. Perhaps both parties (the flying rodders and the futurists) are nostalgic for the future?
I am sinking into this hopeless bliss. Everything couldn’t be more unsettling. I can’t accomplish a thing without paying a figurative fee to society. I have no interest in my behavior. I don’t realize my facadistic impulses until someone brings them to my attention deficit disorder. I don’t care if my lifespan doesn’t match the posthuman. What have I that will hack my existence? Most of my parts work like when they were new. Devoid direction is my mapless conquest. I am soothed by the unexpected. I claim to live in it with ease; I now put it under reconsideration.
Reconstructing the dream sequence involves going back to sleep and when I say “back to sleep” I mean sleeping back then/not on your back/not returning where you left off. Sleepful content is had when learning happens, when learnedness is applied, and when there the uncontrolled yields a potential quality. This sleep is life to me. But I am also literally tired of sleeping and waking. Let it be one or the other. I now can handle both with equal interest, but trouble through shuffling the deck of nights and days. Tonight might be a face card where I get too much sleep or deuce to depravity.
What kind of precision can you achieve if you arbitrarily make a compound miter cut (CONFUSE MYSELF)? The final products are invisible to me and is there a good angle or a technique that works or does it even matter? I can help from being a rear-view filmmaker. I don’t need to record my life. Replays aren’t where I can live. Boy am I glad I am not finished with the filmography. Girl am I sad that I can’t focus on the current production. Nobody is the devine director.
Emotions are like magnetic fields, attracting its opposite. The element of reality known as NOW is rhetorical surface tension.
07
Aug
Hooking up unhooks
If a partner in a hook-up begins to care for the other, the desire for commitment may drive the other away. Reasons for embracing a hookup could be to (1) fulfill a sexual desire without responsibility, (2)
compromise emotional security to satisfy desire for intimacy, or (3) submitting to incompatible partners instead of seeking an enduring relationship.
The common ground found is that people are afraid of engaging on a deeper level. Why? They know it can be dangerous. They don’t want to break hearts. They don’t want to have a heart that breaks. They avoid the heart instead. Heartless acts are cold. So the intentions are more detrimental on a hidden level. I hope I am never selfish enough.
23
Jun
Lookism and the Soda Age
Server to middle-aged couple…
says:What can I get for you to drink?
Subconscious Implication: Have whatever you want.
Server to young lively group indecipherably over 21…
says:What do you want to drink? We have Coke, Sprite, Rootbeer…
Subconscious Implication: You only option is soda tonight!
Fresh 21 year olds have designated drinkers who donate the driving to less responsible alcoholics. Even if this occurs before your best friend’s birthday who is already 21, you may still get the mandatory soda option.
The power of lookism will make you organize predispositions without taking into consideration the recognition of variations. So I got mad that I was verbally limited to those drink selections. I could easily order a beer in spite of her but I didn’t need to defend myself.
It’s funny how I was misinterpreted about being older than I really am in some cases, but the challenge of being seen as under 21 was still in effect. A public directory had me a year older than I was and Kid A believed me to be that age. I had to defend myself that I was actually younger. So the power of the look was overcome by media, then by word of mouth. The word of mouth defense then gave lookism another chance to question my youngness after media was wrong by overaging. Media (Marshall McLuhan never realized) creates another force that fights internal prejudice, but therefore stirs into the pot a more dangerous external prejudice.
I don’t give care if I look 18 or 25, because I’ve been seen as both on first impressions- 1st impressions before being skewed by behavioral and mental interaction. And still lookism prevails on last impressions. I saw you for the 100th time and you still think I’m 19. Maybe that’s why you won’t have an adult conversation with me. I don’t read coloring books anymore.
It’s a paradox to kill love. Divorce doesn’t do anything. Death doesn’t nullify anything except a marriage certificate. Splitting up doesn’t set anyone free. Grown out of love? Is love some plantable life that can be destroyed? I’d like to think of it as an immortal plant. When it dries from lack of water, it just feels the hurt of dehydration, enduring the abandonment. Disregarded by the sun, it has nothing to see except itself… alone. No longer basking in the comforting warmth that is present everyday. But when the sun is part of your galaxy, you still know it is there when covered by clouds.
she couldn’t understand how you can just not love someone anymore
Communication. Is crucial for understanding. The question is not of love, but how complex intricate abstraction is intercepted between two people. Maybe ideas of hope were mistaken for love.
I love communication; although it falls short of expressing definitively unanimous thoughts, especially when the surface (the fundamental idea[s]) is the perimeter and there lies a voluminous mass of multi-dimension to be explored. It’s the fault of arbitrary division within a continuum. Language has no way of explaining itself outside its system, and to chunk things into categories destroys the nonlinear motives of the mind. Decay, decoy. Relay, recoil. Somehow we get by. Aristotelean methods are survivable.
Laying it on you easy with a euphemism contradictorily shows you are masking a deeper issue, which is harder on the euphem-ee.
I now ponder whether it is possible to love more than one person? But then I go into the communication problem of whether I understand what I say to myself. What is love? Sure, there are probably many varieties. I guess I love everybody. And I already knew that; Questions seem to be more understandable than answers. Why?
Instead of antentae, humans got stuck with emotional feelers.
I have a lust and disgust for time. I need more of it, but I’d love to rid myself of it (not in a life-ending way, don’t worry!). My life now exponentially feels fuller and quicker. Time flies when you are having anything, not just fun… Time drags when you don’t think, or when you think of things you are not interested in. I haven’t felt so thoughtful in my entire life. Things are flying: through rain, snow, sleet, hail, fun, letdown, and opportunity.
I’ve lost a lover. He was a rare kind. Time ran me by and I got thrown off my feet. He ended commitments three months after discovering each other on a personal level. A short time, but an endless package of feelings and gatherings to replay for lifetimes. Companions are for life. Couples have breakups. I think I had both whether a couple of people constitute a couple, we up and broke our romance. We have companionship left over. That’s most important… I could use more ships full of company.
I am struck by his decision to hold back on “us.” If it’s a hiatus, things will straighten out together on its own. If it’s the ending punctuation mark on the sentence of love, then both of us must know that a piece of us and our experience will linger stiffened in the past, unchangeable, but retrievable. The ending period doesn’t stop anybody from reading what’s written before it. The authors can revise and append the story of love or they can leave the sentence abandoned- the orphan.
I feel like I have reasons for having feelings, rather than the isolated individual perspective of submersion in apathetic teeter of melancholy and euphoria.
disappointed but grateful
detached but realistic
blank but hopeful
fragmented but understanding
confused but content
empty but growing
I feel a physical manifestation of ambivalence.
16
May
I maded horchata
all by myself! The horchata tastes ok. I let it sit too long and get too strong. It was pretty easy to make and I got excited making one of my favorite drinks. It is not as good as the Rice Dream kind though. The horchata I made has a slight aftertaste. Despite the rice imperfection, today was prettay nice. I attended a birthday of a friend and had a free dinner that was superdelicious. It took place at her house and a small handful of her close pals were there. Good conversation, plenty of laughter. The day eased any of my concerns of family toils I’ve been having, and Oh, I forgot to write down that I got a new job right after my debacle over half year ago. Shortly after I screwed my secretary career, I scored a well-paying job.
New job title: auto broker.
New mood: nirvana.
Life is almost too good. For twice, I can say I am content, everything is working out, and nothing could be better. I am content, everything is working out, and nothing could be better.
I feel guilty. Being so happy shouldn’t be legal. I know too many people on the other end of life… and with good reason. Where has all my hell and drama gone? I know it’s right behind me.
