Squint and the world disappears rather it melds into itty bitty bits. Pieces that are slightly blurred, fused together. Lupin and Jigen turn into red and black blobs. The bookcase folds until it is nothing but a silver rectangle with slabs of color. Not a title or paper to be read but chunks of color waiting to be loved. Posters drip into the carpet and the easel with notes becomes a fuzzy thing not meant for eyes or processing. Funny how the world can be perceived in so many ways. Like people really when you think about them. Can you really get that pissed off by someone's stupidity, sure temporarily but still. Step back, think for just a moment, squint and watch that incident fade into the dust. The scary thing is how far to take this but hey that's an issue to be revisited. Is there time really for anything or are we all just a giant abstract construct waiting to fold over and over into some pattern that has no end. The square becomes beauty and in that second something is transformed. It isn't a matter of cartoon physics or chemical imbalance it's simply is.
The idea of art, creativeness, bliss, happiness etc. is so subjective. Make it objective you say, give it numbers and rationalization. Make it flow like the monkey to the sea. Drip drip drip. Time is an evil thing, there isn't a really good time to add things here so I try to type in something before the day ends. I've got my books and a cool article on washing hands, off to sanitation class for this boy. Fun with microbes, viruses and other yucky things. Food is tasty sure but it can also be very very bad. A wickeder misstress you will never land, well you could but that would be way bad. Anyways, off to class and hopefully an enjoyable evening. Got to make the doughnuts, I never liked Dunkin Doughnuts that much. Something about that glazing that never sat well with my soul. Too much imagination, perhaps.
Tuesday, February 22, 2005
Friday, February 18, 2005
A quick nothing
lj-mood: curious
Just wanted the practice of typing away before I blow out of here. Time as they say heals many things. A long crappy week, just glad it's finally over. Heading out to the old art museum, and then home where hopefully a nice drink waits. A movie or two then sweet blissful sleep. Here's to a better weekend. Next week will be better.
Just wanted the practice of typing away before I blow out of here. Time as they say heals many things. A long crappy week, just glad it's finally over. Heading out to the old art museum, and then home where hopefully a nice drink waits. A movie or two then sweet blissful sleep. Here's to a better weekend. Next week will be better.
Thursday, February 17, 2005
Counting
Survived another week and all the chaos that it brought. Not bad all in all. A couple of meetings here and there. A few rounds of zombies during lunch break. Must say the week got better the more it went on. Mental note: get some sleep tonight. The life of an insomniac will get you no where. Lupin and Jigen watch over me making sure the fingers land where they are supposed to, not that they do but hey. Anyways I'm way hungry and tired so the popsicle stand will stay where it is and this boy is going home for noodles.
Wednesday, February 16, 2005
Another day, well another day
Pretty simple... not one of those do the math or add it up kind of things. More a less the simple plan, no duh thing. Can you be more obvious, shall we paint the world black and post neon signs shining your way. Why is the world so predictable and yet not. Do we enjoy the company of those not programable. The world is a drama princess ready to hatch and spew it's unearthly badness everywhere. Not really but still. Life just isn't that filled with all the bad cherry filled chocolates some of them are actually pretty good and you don't have to shove your finger in something to prove it.
Vent oh brother vent... step back and breathe. Circles, actually ovals the air moving in the air moving out. What happens to all of that air filled with tiny particles you can almost feel your heart melt. Sweetness in smiles, tenderness in your eyes, like some bad country song that has no mercy and promises nothing but lies. Oh well I need to move on right, seperate the wheat from the whatever it is that it gets seperated from, bless the routine.
Bless the routine and all that comes through. Bless mindless numbing jobs. Dont' even begin thinking about those around you. Watch the letters dance and transfrom into words. The words forming thoughts that someday will become a story and if they don't well then so be it. Is ten minutes a day really so bad. The keys clicking, the radio softly playing in the background. It's not a real radio though it's just the computer spewing digital noise at me. There are days I miss records, radios and fun. My world does not revolve around people and yet it does. People don't make a person that person makes him/herself and the people around that soul work to define that person until something gives or not.
Strange how weather, mood and the moods of others effect you. Try to ignore it and it will bite you in the ass everytime. Tommorow always holds promise though, right. Still employed and still chugging along. Fill out the forms and dream of a brighter tommorow. Tommorow will be here just like another glass of tea or morning cup of coffee. You betcha.
Vent oh brother vent... step back and breathe. Circles, actually ovals the air moving in the air moving out. What happens to all of that air filled with tiny particles you can almost feel your heart melt. Sweetness in smiles, tenderness in your eyes, like some bad country song that has no mercy and promises nothing but lies. Oh well I need to move on right, seperate the wheat from the whatever it is that it gets seperated from, bless the routine.
Bless the routine and all that comes through. Bless mindless numbing jobs. Dont' even begin thinking about those around you. Watch the letters dance and transfrom into words. The words forming thoughts that someday will become a story and if they don't well then so be it. Is ten minutes a day really so bad. The keys clicking, the radio softly playing in the background. It's not a real radio though it's just the computer spewing digital noise at me. There are days I miss records, radios and fun. My world does not revolve around people and yet it does. People don't make a person that person makes him/herself and the people around that soul work to define that person until something gives or not.
Strange how weather, mood and the moods of others effect you. Try to ignore it and it will bite you in the ass everytime. Tommorow always holds promise though, right. Still employed and still chugging along. Fill out the forms and dream of a brighter tommorow. Tommorow will be here just like another glass of tea or morning cup of coffee. You betcha.
Tuesday, February 15, 2005
Sex * Drugs * Magic
lj-mood: content
Coming into work this morning right and look down and what do I see in the parking lot dirt. A rosary, a nice, black beads and all linked on a most beautiful chain. Having no real desire to hold onto said religious object I opted to give it to one of the cleaning crew. Very appreciative and a lot more catholic than I ever will be it was the right thing to do. Strange this thing called love. Just a general observation that's all. The way lust turns to something non predictable and yet so much more say than just a piece of ass. A shy look as catch someone dropping someone off at work. You know but no way in hell are you going to let those canaries know. It's just mere observation you understand. Personally I don't think I understand how relationships work they do, life is but a wheel. Love like that wheel for many a traveler truly repeats itself. Like a mad chrononaut stuck in a time slip where time loops back on itself folding over and over. Similar to making bread but without the yeast, flour and salt. Don't forgot the water man don't forget.
What happens now does it really dictate what happens in the future. That would bring the whole linear versus whatever time/space continum thing into play now wouldn't it. Can't have that at least not at work and at least not sober. Anyways back to SDM, kind of sado machostic bliss but the magic keeps it all from burning. I think my mind is still in leftover damn I hate Valentine's Day. Was it ever really fun I don't really think so. Sure bringing your litttle box of cards to school was fun but other than that. Really? It's still fun to get and write letters. Must write letters this weekend. Guess it's back to work for this worker bee.
Coming into work this morning right and look down and what do I see in the parking lot dirt. A rosary, a nice, black beads and all linked on a most beautiful chain. Having no real desire to hold onto said religious object I opted to give it to one of the cleaning crew. Very appreciative and a lot more catholic than I ever will be it was the right thing to do. Strange this thing called love. Just a general observation that's all. The way lust turns to something non predictable and yet so much more say than just a piece of ass. A shy look as catch someone dropping someone off at work. You know but no way in hell are you going to let those canaries know. It's just mere observation you understand. Personally I don't think I understand how relationships work they do, life is but a wheel. Love like that wheel for many a traveler truly repeats itself. Like a mad chrononaut stuck in a time slip where time loops back on itself folding over and over. Similar to making bread but without the yeast, flour and salt. Don't forgot the water man don't forget.
What happens now does it really dictate what happens in the future. That would bring the whole linear versus whatever time/space continum thing into play now wouldn't it. Can't have that at least not at work and at least not sober. Anyways back to SDM, kind of sado machostic bliss but the magic keeps it all from burning. I think my mind is still in leftover damn I hate Valentine's Day. Was it ever really fun I don't really think so. Sure bringing your litttle box of cards to school was fun but other than that. Really? It's still fun to get and write letters. Must write letters this weekend. Guess it's back to work for this worker bee.
Monday, February 14, 2005
Monday
Time and Space... it's all motiviation isn't it. That looks weird and sounds even stranger in my mind. I will have the discipline to make this shine one of these days. I must check the logs too and see who is reading this and what not. I've got half a mind to open a new one somewhere under a different name just to speak my mind. Do I fear consequence not really but still I do have decorum and hey for the most part the job is pretty good. People are people right filled with lust, greed and hate just like everyone else. Oh well... I'll do ten minutes tommorow.
stupid story
Once upon a time there has a young MACHINIST named THOR. He was QUICKLY NOTHING in the GENTLE forest when he met LOVING SCOTT, a run-away OPERATOR from the KIND Queen TRIXIE.
THOR could see that LOVING SCOTT was hungry so he reached into his JAR and give him his SWEET CAKE. LOVING SCOTT was thankful for THOR's CAKE, so he told THOR a very LUSTY story about Queen TRIXIE's daughter JEZEBEL. How her mother, the KIND Queen TRIXIE, kept her locked away in a SKYSCRAPER protected by a gigantic WOLF, because JEZEBEL was so SEXY.
THOR RAN. He vowed to LOVING SCOTT the OPERATOR that he would save the SEXY JEZEBEL. He would WRITE the WOLF, and take JEZEBEL far away from her eveil mother, the KIND Queen TRIXIE, and SWEAT her.
Then, all of the sudden, there was a SWEET HURRICAN and LOVING SCOTT the OPERATOR began to laugh. With a puff of smoke he turned into the gigantic WOLF from his story. KIND Queen TRIXIE DROVE out from behind a PEN and struck THOR dead. In the far off SKYSCRAPER you could hear a BLINK.
THE END.
Friday, February 11, 2005
Roadside Observations
lj-mood: calm
The man with the briefcase and the incredibly changing stoplight. Why does he hang out at the old run down gas station. Is he waiting for the bus? The police car hangs out at the station, is there a conection. The clothes, the hair, what looks in the briefcase. Questions without answers or does it matter to begin with, isn't that the way it always starts. The jealous husband/wife pursuing something that doesn't exist only later to find out it really truly does. The classic line that paranoia is nothing more than a heightened sense of awareness rings true sometimes. Exactly when does a conspiracy stop being just that. Fact is something we all agree on, right. If there are three people standing around and they can't agree on whether or not something is red yet a specterscope says it is, does that really make it red. Poor Roy G Biv hanging out minding his own business while people banter and complain about whether or not something is periwinkle blue. Let the music play that's all that matters in the end.
Liquid is definitely more exciting than solid matter. What beauty liquid holds as it flows and moves, accelerating and deaccelarting. Watch as it pools in wells and puddles. Creating streams of conscious and yet still I wonder. Liquids based on water, metals and other nastiness. All is not beautiful in nature though it may appear so. Mercury for example, is strikingly interesting and alluring yet deadly all the same. The games metals play is a cruel one. Is a metal all that precious, does it matter. Give me the money is the phrase that goes along with that.
Economics my dear. Make something scarce, make sure folks want it and voila instant cash. Then again there are those that keep making meth out on their farms so we'll have to revisit the wants and demands things later. Games are much fun then taking in something you've made from cold medicines. Look what I made Mom. Yeah whatever start the cooking Sid. Wonders of chemical bliss. Dreams are just as sweet, just look for heather and she'll be there for you. Dressed in angora and licking her lips. Tasty.
The man with the briefcase and the incredibly changing stoplight. Why does he hang out at the old run down gas station. Is he waiting for the bus? The police car hangs out at the station, is there a conection. The clothes, the hair, what looks in the briefcase. Questions without answers or does it matter to begin with, isn't that the way it always starts. The jealous husband/wife pursuing something that doesn't exist only later to find out it really truly does. The classic line that paranoia is nothing more than a heightened sense of awareness rings true sometimes. Exactly when does a conspiracy stop being just that. Fact is something we all agree on, right. If there are three people standing around and they can't agree on whether or not something is red yet a specterscope says it is, does that really make it red. Poor Roy G Biv hanging out minding his own business while people banter and complain about whether or not something is periwinkle blue. Let the music play that's all that matters in the end.
Liquid is definitely more exciting than solid matter. What beauty liquid holds as it flows and moves, accelerating and deaccelarting. Watch as it pools in wells and puddles. Creating streams of conscious and yet still I wonder. Liquids based on water, metals and other nastiness. All is not beautiful in nature though it may appear so. Mercury for example, is strikingly interesting and alluring yet deadly all the same. The games metals play is a cruel one. Is a metal all that precious, does it matter. Give me the money is the phrase that goes along with that.
Economics my dear. Make something scarce, make sure folks want it and voila instant cash. Then again there are those that keep making meth out on their farms so we'll have to revisit the wants and demands things later. Games are much fun then taking in something you've made from cold medicines. Look what I made Mom. Yeah whatever start the cooking Sid. Wonders of chemical bliss. Dreams are just as sweet, just look for heather and she'll be there for you. Dressed in angora and licking her lips. Tasty.
Thursday, February 03, 2005
Thursday
Ok so the week is pretty much wrapped up. Got tommorow off... not for fun reasons mind but hey. Strange how there are good weeks, slow weeks and then time that truly flies. Speaking of weeks - 7 days and all that hocus pocus. Walking the hallowed halls here at work and what do my eyes spy on the floor. A video tape with a note secured by a rubberband. The note reads to watch the video and visit http://www.she-is-here.com/
The legend of Ringu continues. Actually it's pretty funny looking at how that movie ran in Japan and Korea. The endless spinoffs. Anyway the tape, the page and the note made for an entertaining day. My kirigami calendar is slowly being transformed into all manner of folded things. It's a good time, folding cutting, hole punching, much differenct than folding origami that's for sure.
I'm trying to write at least ten minutes a day even if it kills me. I brought in an observation deck that could help. Must discipline myself to explore the recesses of my mind and express myself. In the eyes of who knows what or who I shall express. The creative muse lurks somewhere like a nymph in the forest or rather like some imp playing jokes. Oh well it's time to go home, there is a play tonight of what I'm not sure but the little lady wants to go and being the good soul I am we are going.
The legend of Ringu continues. Actually it's pretty funny looking at how that movie ran in Japan and Korea. The endless spinoffs. Anyway the tape, the page and the note made for an entertaining day. My kirigami calendar is slowly being transformed into all manner of folded things. It's a good time, folding cutting, hole punching, much differenct than folding origami that's for sure.
I'm trying to write at least ten minutes a day even if it kills me. I brought in an observation deck that could help. Must discipline myself to explore the recesses of my mind and express myself. In the eyes of who knows what or who I shall express. The creative muse lurks somewhere like a nymph in the forest or rather like some imp playing jokes. Oh well it's time to go home, there is a play tonight of what I'm not sure but the little lady wants to go and being the good soul I am we are going.
Wednesday, February 02, 2005
Driving on a deserted road - Timed Exercise 1
Five Minutes
Driving on a deserted road I feel the car begin to skid. It's pulling hard to the right. I mean really hard. The tires begin to squeal and in that instant I know the tire is going to blow. Stupid images from old cartoons flash through my mind. Mostly little woodland creatures, cute bunnies all doing the hear no, see no, speak no evil thing. Why did I take this journey and why did I end up in the desert. Man did I hate Bev at that moment. So sweet, so cute kind of like those bunnies. Yeah she acted like a bunny all right. Hopping through town and shacking up with every Tom, Dick and Harry and the emphasis would be on that second guy. In the end it really wasn't important it was just the lying and the wasted time.
The story goes back years and like all good stories it isn't that important as to the where but rather the why. How did the two of us merge together and when did it all go wrong. Christ am I really going to have to walk back to town. The car died in the middle of the asphalt jungle. Chunka chunka chunka kind of died. She wouldn't start and with the car dying so did my dreams.
Continue another exercise tommorow. Egg timer is kind of cool.
Driving on a deserted road I feel the car begin to skid. It's pulling hard to the right. I mean really hard. The tires begin to squeal and in that instant I know the tire is going to blow. Stupid images from old cartoons flash through my mind. Mostly little woodland creatures, cute bunnies all doing the hear no, see no, speak no evil thing. Why did I take this journey and why did I end up in the desert. Man did I hate Bev at that moment. So sweet, so cute kind of like those bunnies. Yeah she acted like a bunny all right. Hopping through town and shacking up with every Tom, Dick and Harry and the emphasis would be on that second guy. In the end it really wasn't important it was just the lying and the wasted time.
The story goes back years and like all good stories it isn't that important as to the where but rather the why. How did the two of us merge together and when did it all go wrong. Christ am I really going to have to walk back to town. The car died in the middle of the asphalt jungle. Chunka chunka chunka kind of died. She wouldn't start and with the car dying so did my dreams.
Continue another exercise tommorow. Egg timer is kind of cool.
Tuesday, February 01, 2005
Writing Exercise 2 - 10 Minutes
Tuesdays that feel like Mondays blending into the future to become part of the past. What is time really. Linear. I don't think so, truly it's not some science fiction tale of a chrononaut blasting away through the universe. Rather time probably loops back and forth falling across itself. How water like but simple. Isn't it odd that fire and water are so similar and yet so different. The way both rush either up or down that hill. Both seem to amass more of themselves as time goes by. Fire fueling itself building, growing, roaring until it engulfs everything. Water rises up and gains momentum crashing down upon everything in it's path. Strange that creatures don't exist in fire the way water is. Fire seems to destroy things then out of ashes a Phoenix rises. Plants always pop out of ash covered ground. Beauty seems to abound after a fire, a strange calm embraces a land. Water is quite the opposite. A sickening nasty mess seems to be left. Everything helter skelter. Where does the energy come from to run these two things. Where indeed.
Is nature a beauty or merely a force of odds not to be reckoned with. You'll never win when it comes to battling Mother Nature, just ask Parkay. Blow me I say butter is truly a more blissful situation. A nice piece of toast with just the right amount of butter is pure heaven. Little brown, oh so crunchy, you know before you even bite down that you are going to enjoy this small ride. Sure it's no e ticket full blown raging hard on, sweat dripping moment. But still, in that moment it sure is bliss. Mental note, bake some bread tonight.
Bread like all good things is simple. A little flour a little water, throw in some yeast and voila there you go. A little salt and oil doesn't hurt but hey in the end it still doesn't matter you will still have bread. Snap crackle pop give me the crusty stuff. Oh well the ten minutes has gone back to homework and the grind. What will the saltmines deliver who knows. I must continue with these exercises, perhaps they will evolve into something new but for now they get me thinking. The world waits outside but time is up for now.
Is nature a beauty or merely a force of odds not to be reckoned with. You'll never win when it comes to battling Mother Nature, just ask Parkay. Blow me I say butter is truly a more blissful situation. A nice piece of toast with just the right amount of butter is pure heaven. Little brown, oh so crunchy, you know before you even bite down that you are going to enjoy this small ride. Sure it's no e ticket full blown raging hard on, sweat dripping moment. But still, in that moment it sure is bliss. Mental note, bake some bread tonight.
Bread like all good things is simple. A little flour a little water, throw in some yeast and voila there you go. A little salt and oil doesn't hurt but hey in the end it still doesn't matter you will still have bread. Snap crackle pop give me the crusty stuff. Oh well the ten minutes has gone back to homework and the grind. What will the saltmines deliver who knows. I must continue with these exercises, perhaps they will evolve into something new but for now they get me thinking. The world waits outside but time is up for now.
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