I’ve heard some arguments about why we’re alive. Is it to procreate, to pass on genes indefinitely, and to make sure humans continue as a species?
Are we really just trying to live another day, and if we are, what about it then?
I read a fact a couple of days ago, one that said that fireflies only live 7 days, all of which they spend trying to find a mate. Their entire life devoted to a simple thing.
Are we doing that?
For some, yes, for others, no. [Thats how it is with everything nowadays.]
I figure, that’s why everything except fucking is here. Sure, sex is an art, but what about that feeling you get from crafting something from your own hands, from feeling bleached paper on your palms, and drying ink on your fingertips? What about the smell of wet paint or moist clay? And the taste of dough and spice on your tongue? What about those?
As beautiful and seemingly “poetic” as they may be, don’t be a firefly, you don’t know how long its going to be before you’re light goes out.
nerves are one of the biggest driving forces a person can have.
not only do those butterflies in your stomach make you feel like they fly, but they test you. you have two options from that point. you can overcome them, and therefore, remove them quickly and gain an experience, or you can wait them out, playing a game of wits with your gag reflex.
it wasn’t until i had one shoe on, phone in hand, with her so close, that i felt like i wouldnt be able to stand. it had been what had seemed like an eternity. automatic defenses were ready however, and fought thought after thought of awkward situations, no need to throw myself into a self induced seizure just yet.
suddenly, a familiar face. and just as quickly, an ever more familiar grasp. god damn, i havnt felt that in a long time. but distance was to be had between two bodies with spectators so close, mainly a parental unit. [and here is where the doubt started, what was wrong?]
close your eyes. open them again, and im looking up upon a sacred view that i am more than happy to receive. it’s hard not to smile, but the task at hand is the best way to show how i feel.
on top of the world, we look at a place called home. thats an interesting thought, that what has been comfort for only 24 or so weeks is now the only comfort that is really comfortable. a home of 18 years is almost as awkward and scary as coming here in the first place. [and here’s where the doubt sets in, throwing butterflies and acid alike into the mashing pit, what in god’s name is wrong?]
quick decisions lead back to a sweaty room. hendrix rocks the body while company smooths the soul. i almost want to look for vega. but something is a little different. unlike so many other times, the light in the room seems to excite our bodies, makes them squirm and resist silence. instead of taking it all in, its more like bouncing it all back. [i want to scream it, but words based on pleasure, although the sweetest, are the quickest to go bad.]
and here comes my favorite part, the crescendo. something about stopping someone from gettings dressed is one of the most fun things to do. i am genuinely happy here. i wouldnt trade the world for the precious few minutes that caught us off guard.
fast forward through dinner, and now im frantically trying to hold onto what i had been taking for granted the entire time. this is about the time where you can say “i told you so” because before hand you had told yourself that you should value it more. unnatural emphasis breads resentment however, so ill take the lesser of two evils. kissing a mouth that will be a ghost for another 7 weeks, i muster up all the courage i can to say what i said before in silence. attempt 1: FIRE! no good, nothing comes out. attempt 2: FIRE! no good, only the words “soon” final attempt: FIRE! here the words that want to escape through the mouth circumnavigate it completely and shoot out the eyes. im hoping she can catch, from that glimpse, maybe a scratch of how im feeling.
eh, who knows? maybe eye conversations will be a thing of the future, but here i stand, using experimental technology in an uncontrolled environment, what can i expect?
and later that night, as i lay in bed, everything was alright. it felt good to know that. it felt good to be with you. before you asked me how i knew what $%&# felt like, and i think right then, thats how i knew.
Ever have the undeniable urge to play rock paper scissors, but all your buds are out?
But, in case you’re feeling like a quick game, NY times has pulled through with an article that includes a computer player that will mimic and learn through statistics to kick your ass at rock paper scissors.
“What do you want? Perfection?"
“Or nothing. So, you see, I take the nothing.”
“That doesn’t make sense.”
“I take the only desire one can really permit oneself. Freedom, Alvah, freedom.”
“You call that freedom?”
“To ask nothing. To expect nothing. To depend on nothing.”—The Fountainhead
last night was one of those nights that you have once every few months, at the most.
went to a locker room party at a frat, and drank. a lot. too much. this frat had by far the worst beer i have ever tasted, and after an hour or so, it was everywhere. then came the dancing. the room was literally packed door to door. nobody touched the walls because they were slippery with sweat and alcohol. i felt like i had just jumped in a lake everyone was sweating so much.
then came the walk back. this part is fuzzy. and dangerous. i remember doing some very, very stupid stuff, and letting a side of myself be seen that i havent let anyone see in a very, very long time. i found a new connection to a friend through it all, but looking back, that ordeal was shameful.
now back to safety, the dorms. here i had a panic attack. then started to recover, and then a half high half drunk roommate decided to jokingly lunge at me with a mesh filter in his hand. now i have an awesome looking cut from one of the corners of my mouth to my chin. [step one to looking like a ninja, complete.]
finally, time for sleep. promised a friend id stay up, and then dozed off within ten minutes. woke up feeling a lot better than anticipated, to a sunny day outside.
"there are three words in which no one wants to hear, but they are a painful, painful truth. as much as egos and defense systems would like to disprove, i am nothing but a person, fragile, weak, and human. i hurt, i have connections, and i react and interact according to my beliefs. therefore, you have to believe me when i say," [end]
an uneasy car ride shook an uneasy mind. some things i made clear, some things i muddied. you can take a guess at which is which.
when i said that you took me by surprise, i whole heartedly meant it. but that was probably one of the best surprises i could have received. and im glad i fought it as much as i could. it helped me realize what exactly i feel, helped to clear up a lot of ambiguities a lot of people call emotion. so when i talk in honesty, i mean it in a good way. i mean that you had the power to change a mind. doesn’t seem like such an accomplishment, does it? but it is. to change the way one thinks, to change the entire thought process, is a hugely complicated and almost impossible feat. imagine the amount of hours you spend thinking, and developing, and figuring, and now, imagine trying to change all that. thats like telling an assembly line making chalk to switch suddenly to spray paint. the end is still art, true, but the method of getting there is entirely changed.
what i made clear, i made clear. it was a huge weight off of my chest, something that was needed. regret and what-ifs began to haunt me, a sure sign that action was needed, with or without talk. how do i know though? how do i know what exactly that four lettered thing is?
i havent the faintest idea. thats because nobody’s told me what it should be. you define it yourself. the whole concept is terribly terribly story-book. so decide for yourself what to make of it, but i know youve said it before, and you will say it again. an unleanred word can make for some interesting reactions. [speaking of which, no shock factory intended, if any.]