“You are so beautiful to me…”
“Oh yeah that’s just great,” I think as the song continues to flow in to the women’s changing room from the pool.
I swiftly march back to the locker where she’s putting on a shirt and asks me “what?”
Anyway, Valentines Day is no big deal. I don’t really understand why people get all “I’m all ALONE and on this specific day I realise I am all alone even more than I will tomorrow.”
It’s just a day. You’ll be alone just as much tomorrow as you will be today…or, you know, not alone depending on the person. So why stress about it more for certain days?
Okay, well, I’m not sure who I’m trying to convince here. I’m sure all my “oh so loyal readers” are not only loyal but well adjusted people not really affected by this silly day.
Anyway…Happy Valentines Day
Monday, February 14, 2005
Saturday, February 12, 2005
So hypothetically speaking...
For someone to be really good at something and I mean really good they have to be really bad at something else - or better yet really bad at a whole lot of something else’s.
Some people are okay at lots of things - a lot of little things. But, because they're okay at most things it means they're not horrible at many things which in turn means they're not really good at anything either.
Some people throw themselves into weird bizarre situations they're not comfortable with or good at - and the kicker is they force themselves through it for weird reasons. Reasons like, it shouldn’t be hard, other people don’t find this challenging, it’ll get easier, the last few hours weren’t really *that* bad, rewards will come - or other silly excuses.
It all depends what all the “something else’s” you are really bad at are and what the one thing you are good at is – if you happen to not be one of those people who are okay at everything.
Usually not being able to ride a sheep dog, water hedges upside down or focus on the space between the breath is not that big of a deal – it won’t ruin most people’s lives. A person not good at those things might be really good at appearing to be confident and at ease which is a trait desired by most.
But what if there was a person who was really really good at focusing on the space between the breath and in turn really bad at confidently selling bits of things to consumers and bad at a lot of other things too.
It’s just not fair that’s all. A person shouldn’t be punished for being really really bad at a lot of *normal* things because that person is really really good at something else. Because at least they are really good as something because being really good at something is rare - most of us zombies are just okay at most things.
Do you ever just step out of the moment just for a second or two and say “okay, yeah, this has to stop.” But what you want to stop are large chunks of your life and it seems completely crazy and unreasonable to want to cut out something that isn’t just part of your life but *is* your life. Your trained little mind doesn’t know what it would use to fill those voids because there wouldn’t be voids there would be just a lot of collapsing. (Apparently though, the vagina, when not in use, is collapsed…take it over leave it I don’t mind.)
So you just keep on trucking intending on stopping when someone suggests a filler for your “could-be” void but that never happens because no one’s ever desired, thought of, or fathomed that there ever would be a void to fill.
Some people are okay at lots of things - a lot of little things. But, because they're okay at most things it means they're not horrible at many things which in turn means they're not really good at anything either.
Some people throw themselves into weird bizarre situations they're not comfortable with or good at - and the kicker is they force themselves through it for weird reasons. Reasons like, it shouldn’t be hard, other people don’t find this challenging, it’ll get easier, the last few hours weren’t really *that* bad, rewards will come - or other silly excuses.
It all depends what all the “something else’s” you are really bad at are and what the one thing you are good at is – if you happen to not be one of those people who are okay at everything.
Usually not being able to ride a sheep dog, water hedges upside down or focus on the space between the breath is not that big of a deal – it won’t ruin most people’s lives. A person not good at those things might be really good at appearing to be confident and at ease which is a trait desired by most.
But what if there was a person who was really really good at focusing on the space between the breath and in turn really bad at confidently selling bits of things to consumers and bad at a lot of other things too.
It’s just not fair that’s all. A person shouldn’t be punished for being really really bad at a lot of *normal* things because that person is really really good at something else. Because at least they are really good as something because being really good at something is rare - most of us zombies are just okay at most things.
Do you ever just step out of the moment just for a second or two and say “okay, yeah, this has to stop.” But what you want to stop are large chunks of your life and it seems completely crazy and unreasonable to want to cut out something that isn’t just part of your life but *is* your life. Your trained little mind doesn’t know what it would use to fill those voids because there wouldn’t be voids there would be just a lot of collapsing. (Apparently though, the vagina, when not in use, is collapsed…take it over leave it I don’t mind.)
So you just keep on trucking intending on stopping when someone suggests a filler for your “could-be” void but that never happens because no one’s ever desired, thought of, or fathomed that there ever would be a void to fill.
Sunday, February 06, 2005
maybe I am maybe I'm not
I was working on Saturday, as per usual, and at around 3:00 p.m. an attractive woman peaked her head around the corner and said something about looking for me and wanting to see me near sesames. I told her I was allergic but maybe some salad would be nice - just no sesames. She agreed and I walked out and told Erin that I was going out to look for some greens. Erin didn’t even look at me, of course, for she was wrapped up in a man. I couldn’t see him but his voice seemed smooth enough that it might have engulfed me if it wasn’t for my new found friend and our mission. I don’t like phones anyway.
We walked out from the store and the people with their little tent were juggling bright orange balls advertising a new company. They seemed happy – a little too happy. “I wonder how much they’re getting paid?” my new friend asked. I was about to say “not enough” when the power went out just for a second or two but it was dark long enough for one of the company girls to be jarred out of her happy state and scream. At first a smile larger than life with orange balls rotating then suddenly changing to wide eyes, balls dropping and a shrill scream.
I don’t think we were under attack. I think she did.
Then the lights came on their pop music suddenly started up again and she sprang up like an almost forgotten puppet with a smile that looked like it hurt.
Pulling my eyes away from that girl I looked for that other girl, what was her name? – the sesame one. Anyway she was gone. No where close sells salads anyway.
Procrastinating like I’ve never procrastinated before…
Lines from blogs that make me smile…or just blogs that I read and the lines that come from them...
I feel as hot as an icecube in the fucking north pole. I don't think she heard me. Probably because I didn't say that out loud. Of course, this isn't possible since I live on the eighth floor and I don't know anybody that tall. He had disconnected the computer from all of the peripherals and threw it in the firepit in the back yard, where he proceeded to beat it to bits with a sledge hammer. Still broke still fucking sane. Snap your fingers you smelly beatniks.
We walked out from the store and the people with their little tent were juggling bright orange balls advertising a new company. They seemed happy – a little too happy. “I wonder how much they’re getting paid?” my new friend asked. I was about to say “not enough” when the power went out just for a second or two but it was dark long enough for one of the company girls to be jarred out of her happy state and scream. At first a smile larger than life with orange balls rotating then suddenly changing to wide eyes, balls dropping and a shrill scream.
I don’t think we were under attack. I think she did.
Then the lights came on their pop music suddenly started up again and she sprang up like an almost forgotten puppet with a smile that looked like it hurt.
Pulling my eyes away from that girl I looked for that other girl, what was her name? – the sesame one. Anyway she was gone. No where close sells salads anyway.
Procrastinating like I’ve never procrastinated before…
Lines from blogs that make me smile…or just blogs that I read and the lines that come from them...
I feel as hot as an icecube in the fucking north pole. I don't think she heard me. Probably because I didn't say that out loud. Of course, this isn't possible since I live on the eighth floor and I don't know anybody that tall. He had disconnected the computer from all of the peripherals and threw it in the firepit in the back yard, where he proceeded to beat it to bits with a sledge hammer. Still broke still fucking sane. Snap your fingers you smelly beatniks.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)