immoderate household gelatin molds

quote:
There is strong shadow where there is much light.
~Goethe
sometimes there is an itch in the brain, impossible to scratch, that begs one to bend thoughts towards it in hopes of overwhelming the area with so much electrical synergy that it might spark a soothing black-out. this is how one ends up talking in circles, being forced to talk in circles. everything is connected back to one focal point, regardless of the expanse of material covered, at times, every single phenomenon might simply suggest one truth: spanish conquistadors created the foundation of capitalism today; family is a state of mind; vampires really do control the night. all of these truths are valid reasons to try and drink so much water that you might drown your brain and the pull of the moon will create a tide that will eventually squall the focal point. but the mind still trips on the consonance of the bermuda triangle.

~fresh

pommes frites . pompeii

quote:
The philosophers have only interpreted the world, in various ways. The point, however, is to change it.
Karl Marx

Last week, on my way out of a local Burger King in the morning, (I have long been obsessed with their breakfast menu), I noticed a Burger King employee was outside the front entrance on a ladder, where I park my bike. Usually Burger King people don't leave the building, or if they do, it seems they have the sense not to be in uniform, and at least the sense not to be in uniform on a ladder. I couldn't help myself but look up at the employee on the ladder in the morning as I unchained my bike. As I looked up I noticed the ladder was next to a flag pole, and the BK employee asked me,
Do you know how to put this up correctly? (referring to the flag).
I took a minute to acquaint myself to my milieu (I use this word instead of "surroundings" obviously because anything outside a burger king is very fancy) and realized that a man in a pick-up truck, just past the drive-thru window was yelling at the employee on the ladder about how the flag should be put up properly. It was at this point that I decided this situation was definitely worthy of my time. As it turns out, he refused to pay for his food until the American flag was properly hoisted about the building. The great part is, someone in Burger King decided to actually try to satisfy his request. To my knowledge the flag looked pretty normal, though it was a bit saggy, perhaps from a lack of wind. I shrugged in reply to the employees' request for help, at which point he continued,
I don't know how to do this 'properly'. It's not like I fuckin' killed people for this country.
I watched a few more moments of the man in the truck gesturing and yelling out the window, the employee struggling and cussing in full uniform, and rode off.

I wish every morning could be so educational.

fresh

idyllic poppy-seed caked shoelaces

quote:
Man cannot do without beauty, and this is what our era pretends to want to disregard. - Albert Camus

A few nights ago, in a gesture of radical disregard (something we need more of) for sleep and scheduling (as if they deserve a place at the table, grumph), after spending the night jumping from one responsibility to another, my day-planner beamed!, brushed its shoulders off, (work, salsa dancing, choir), i spent a fine hour or so, irresponsibly sitting on the trunk of a grey toyota camry (the car that everyone has, which is perhaps a justification for why i once totaled one - an artistic flurry against sameness and suburbia), in a mostly empty parking lot, being slightly rained upon at times (looking up at the angle of rain is fascinating - glistening armies of thoughts obliquely directed before touchdown), staring at a terribly ugly apartment building (so ugly it can't be described), playing guitar and singing (when possible), through an almost-lost, raggedy voice that sounded as if it had been put out to dry on the clothesline 15 years ago and forgotten about since, stiff fringes fraying in the wind (i am standing resolute in the final battle against a week-long cold that at first seemed more of a passing murmur and sneakily turned a trumpeting forte), and everything about this tiny decision, the dewy, humid, not-cold not-hot temperature, the way time froze like raindrops in street lights, the random location in the world and transformative nature of words and music: turning grey trunk to concert hall, finger pulls on metal strings to emotions and wordless feelings , parking lot to private place of beauty (however you imagine it, wherever you imagine it(i keep mine to myself so you don't loiter there)), no longer affixed to longitudinal latitudinal location or time or scheduling or sleep, or sentence structure, grammar, the english language, typical blog posting form, normative values, mustaches, receding hairlines, sky-writing, and jenga; gum stretches so magically between ground and shoe sole, so it seems.

mind-numb-dumb-aplomb

"How sickness enlarges the dimension of a man's self to himself ... ... of staying healthy. It's a question of finding a sickness you like." - Jackie Mason

After spending a weekend partying in coffee shops, aligning beer bottles and shot glasses next to each other, and hardly donating a minute to the cause of sleep, I ended up sick. Not a surprise. I did achieve, however, in my waking weekend moments, turning bittersweet chocolate into something fondu-able for my friend Ted's birthday, throwing a smashing going away barbecue for my mate, Eileen, who has now left for San Fran, reacquainting with a super old pal, and acquiring some random sickness that fills my head with heat and intercepts any notion of spacial awareness.

I then had a very busy early week at work and so had to work through the sickness, which of course made it worse. At the height of sickness, while running a large event with lots of people, including the Treasurer of Chicago (random), I had to communicate with quite a few people, but I could not tell how loud I was speaking nor could I tell if anyone could hear me, nor did I have the capacity to speak louder, as I had lost my voice. Instead of being frustrated with this isolating communication incident, I actually kind of fell into it, like one might into a room full of pillows. There was nothing I could do more than what I was doing and so, in this very exciting way, I actually relaxed into a complete sick mess of human-being. And then I luckily took the next day off to recover. In this way, I really like the quote I open this blog entry with (and I know I'm usually not so literal in explaining the point of the post, but I'm afraid the point might be missed). If we allow ourselves to fall into a sickness (which might be replaced with the word "unique traits"), then I think we might ultimately find our happiness - which for each of us is unique, right.

Not to go too philosophical here, but if we choose to say join a knitting club and go full-tilt knitting, even at a ripe age, because we love it, and don't fear the perceptions (which it seems many 20-somethings are obsessed with (i cite wicker park)) it's probably a good formula for fulfillment.

fresh