One of the minor disappointments I live with daily is having no one to discuss the Tao with. The paradox is that this is very Tao. Wanna know what else is very Tao? Y'know how half the food on earth "tastes like chicken"? That's very Tao.
One time I tried to discuss the Tao with "Disco Stew", who looks like he fell through a wormhole in space and now he's searching for a way back to the pretentious hair salon he worked at in his home dimension. Disco Stew stocks shelves overnight at the local supermarket but he waxes poetic about the mysteries of life to me while I shoplift (very Tao).
I tried to explain to him that the greatest misfortune is the self. In response, Disco Stew pushed his fingers up at the corners of his eyes in the classic racist "chinky" expression and muttered some Gump-like truism in an exaggerated accent; it didn't occur to me 'til much later how very Tao that was.
One time I tried to discuss the Tao with "Disco Stew", who looks like he fell through a wormhole in space and now he's searching for a way back to the pretentious hair salon he worked at in his home dimension. Disco Stew stocks shelves overnight at the local supermarket but he waxes poetic about the mysteries of life to me while I shoplift (very Tao).
I tried to explain to him that the greatest misfortune is the self. In response, Disco Stew pushed his fingers up at the corners of his eyes in the classic racist "chinky" expression and muttered some Gump-like truism in an exaggerated accent; it didn't occur to me 'til much later how very Tao that was.
I've been spending an unhealthy amount of time playing Civilization V - literally all day long.
On a more positive note, I appear to be losing weight - which I didn't think was possible on a strict diet of beer and pretzels.
On a more positive note, I appear to be losing weight - which I didn't think was possible on a strict diet of beer and pretzels.
I splurged on a new monitor (24" LCD!!) to compliment my new PC build. I love this thing. I also bought Win7, which I didn't really care for at first... but it's growing on me. Shit, man - my profile pic looks awful now that I can see it (why didn't somebody tell me?) I should do something about that.
The weather is perfect... and I feel pretty good about my life for a change.
The weather is perfect... and I feel pretty good about my life for a change.
Ugh. I have an appointment with the doctor today.
I was thinking about asking her to hook me up with a headshrinker.
I was thinking about asking her to hook me up with a headshrinker.
I kinda like the cold, probably most native Arizonans do too. But it was fuckin' crazy cold today. I think I'm gettin' sick. Anyway, I'm looking forward to the heat of summer, which I kinda like too.
Hey kids!
After a lengthy sabbatical, and by sabbatical I mean meeting the bag o' weed of my dreams, I'm back with a renewed vigor and some semblance of commitment. "A commitment to what?" you ask, well, how 'bout a commitment to... um... ah, I forgot what I was going to say right there. Anyway, I'm ready to serve you. Really, I promise... bwahahahaha!
After a lengthy sabbatical, and by sabbatical I mean meeting the bag o' weed of my dreams, I'm back with a renewed vigor and some semblance of commitment. "A commitment to what?" you ask, well, how 'bout a commitment to... um... ah, I forgot what I was going to say right there. Anyway, I'm ready to serve you. Really, I promise... bwahahahaha!
We never chat anymore, do we?
Let me tell ya 'bout my hair...
When I was a wee lad, I totally rocked the 70s. Which is to say, I looked kinda like the psycho killer from "No Country For Old Men", as a matter of fact, a lot of kids my age did. Oh yeah, I wore bell-bottoms, too. They were hand-me-downs from my cousin - a girl ...! And to tell ya the truth, I miss that look. Things went terribly awry after that.
During adolescence, my hair went through a "Muammar Gaddafi" phase. I was powerless to avert it.This was Nature's Way of fucking with me. It was a dark time. It was a confusing time. I still got laid (which is sort of the confusing part - I mean I looked like a dictator for chissakes). Nonetheless, depression set in (oddly enough - I still got laid).
In my twenties, I aped the "Slash" look. Yes! It was long and curly. High maintenance. Kinda... itchy.
I thought I looked good. I felt good (I was really high most of teh time). But ya see, I'm a short dude.
So, really, I was making a mockery of a dude who was already a bit of a joke. Does that make sense? I could blame it on the dope... but I think I just wanted to be accepted.
In my thirties, I was a "professional". Actually, I dressed like a gangsta and I did a lot of gangsta shit. But I adopted a clean cut look. This was my "Christian Scientist Jekyll and Hyde" phase. I fooled a lot of people, I fooled myself; I had some difficulty fooling the cops. Everything changed when I got cancer. Life didn't get more "real" - it got weirder... I got weirder.
My forties are shaping up like some kind of Home Ec 101cooking catastrophe. My hair... I don't know what the fuck's going on. I'm in a "Kim Jong-il" hair-phase now. People on the street casually ask me how I am, I say "I'm feelin' kind of Kim, today" and they nod knowingly. Deep down, there's a little bit of Kim in all of us. Sometimes we're wrong and we act like we're right.
Let me tell ya 'bout my hair...
When I was a wee lad, I totally rocked the 70s. Which is to say, I looked kinda like the psycho killer from "No Country For Old Men", as a matter of fact, a lot of kids my age did. Oh yeah, I wore bell-bottoms, too. They were hand-me-downs from my cousin - a girl ...! And to tell ya the truth, I miss that look. Things went terribly awry after that.
During adolescence, my hair went through a "Muammar Gaddafi" phase. I was powerless to avert it.This was Nature's Way of fucking with me. It was a dark time. It was a confusing time. I still got laid (which is sort of the confusing part - I mean I looked like a dictator for chissakes). Nonetheless, depression set in (oddly enough - I still got laid).
In my twenties, I aped the "Slash" look. Yes! It was long and curly. High maintenance. Kinda... itchy.
I thought I looked good. I felt good (I was really high most of teh time). But ya see, I'm a short dude.
So, really, I was making a mockery of a dude who was already a bit of a joke. Does that make sense? I could blame it on the dope... but I think I just wanted to be accepted.
In my thirties, I was a "professional". Actually, I dressed like a gangsta and I did a lot of gangsta shit. But I adopted a clean cut look. This was my "Christian Scientist Jekyll and Hyde" phase. I fooled a lot of people, I fooled myself; I had some difficulty fooling the cops. Everything changed when I got cancer. Life didn't get more "real" - it got weirder... I got weirder.
My forties are shaping up like some kind of Home Ec 101cooking catastrophe. My hair... I don't know what the fuck's going on. I'm in a "Kim Jong-il" hair-phase now. People on the street casually ask me how I am, I say "I'm feelin' kind of Kim, today" and they nod knowingly. Deep down, there's a little bit of Kim in all of us. Sometimes we're wrong and we act like we're right.
Big Fan of the Holidays, are ya?
I was too, briefly. When I was a little kid. Then it became a real downer. All the usual reasons would seem to apply; but in retrospect I was probably just F'ed up in the head. I can't count how many Thanksgivings I spent out of my mind. I mean, I could, but I don't want to.
Now, I go with the flow. I'm sort of good with my immediate family. Sort of. They can't F with me as much 'cos I'm old. I'm seldom seen in the daylight so I often go unrecognized at family functions, and that works for me. I don't feel any strong craving for drugs. That's different.
Anyway... do people change? Of course they do.
I was too, briefly. When I was a little kid. Then it became a real downer. All the usual reasons would seem to apply; but in retrospect I was probably just F'ed up in the head. I can't count how many Thanksgivings I spent out of my mind. I mean, I could, but I don't want to.
Now, I go with the flow. I'm sort of good with my immediate family. Sort of. They can't F with me as much 'cos I'm old. I'm seldom seen in the daylight so I often go unrecognized at family functions, and that works for me. I don't feel any strong craving for drugs. That's different.
Anyway... do people change? Of course they do.
"ApostropheNow versus The For-Real Birds"
My alarm clock is haunted, which isn't a big deal, really, because I sort of stole it. I've been asked why I don't just junk it and buy something that works. The answer is, I'm loyal. And kind of cheap. Anyway I like being jolted from a sound sleep in the middle of the night by random voices; it helps me with my multiple personality disorder.
Nevertheless, I'm dependent on The For-Real Birds to wake me up before noon.
The For-Real Birds boldly assert that there is no discord, no dissonance that cannot be beautiful when correctly harmonized... "FOR-REEEALLLL ... !!" (Yeah. That's what they actually sound like.) I've got wolves that speak to me, too. Well, one wolf. It usually says... "YOOOOUU ... !!" Kinda scary. Perhaps the message inferred is "To be feared is to know fear".
Hm.
My alarm clock is haunted, which isn't a big deal, really, because I sort of stole it. I've been asked why I don't just junk it and buy something that works. The answer is, I'm loyal. And kind of cheap. Anyway I like being jolted from a sound sleep in the middle of the night by random voices; it helps me with my multiple personality disorder.
Nevertheless, I'm dependent on The For-Real Birds to wake me up before noon.
The For-Real Birds boldly assert that there is no discord, no dissonance that cannot be beautiful when correctly harmonized... "FOR-REEEALLLL ... !!" (Yeah. That's what they actually sound like.) I've got wolves that speak to me, too. Well, one wolf. It usually says... "YOOOOUU ... !!" Kinda scary. Perhaps the message inferred is "To be feared is to know fear".
Hm.
ApostropheNow.....!!
You do not know this man. You may have looked at him, but you did not see him. He is the wind that blows newspapers down a gutter on a windy night -- and sweeps the gutter clean.....
"The world is a deadbeat dad."
Unexpectedly, my return home has been seamless and hassle-free. I've resumed going to the gym, I wondered if I would be received differently because of what's transpired over the summer. Sure enough, a few of the elderly white folks have taken to eying me suspiciously, rumor has it that brown people are out to destroy America. Muahaha! But in spite of the hyperbole I feel strangely at peace. Call me the breeze.
I've mentioned before that some consider this place to be on the cutting edge of hate. I have to tell you that I don't know. I'll leave judgment to ones supposedly smarter than me. This is undoubtedly a police state. Paradoxically, it's also a great place for criminals and miscreants. (Truly, if you're interested in fucking people over you'll dig it here.) Nevertheless, this is no place for revolutionaries.
I guess no one cares.
My best friend says he wants to move to Oregon. He says he can't stand it here anymore. Secretly, I hope he doesn't. It would be endlessly annoying if he were to end up happy; he's kind of a dick. I tried to explain to him that the best way to fight something is to "just be yourself". I don't know where I got that from, but later it occurred to me that my friend probably doesn't really know who he is.
How can you know what you want if you don't know who you are?
Your Pal, AN
You do not know this man. You may have looked at him, but you did not see him. He is the wind that blows newspapers down a gutter on a windy night -- and sweeps the gutter clean.....
"The world is a deadbeat dad."
Unexpectedly, my return home has been seamless and hassle-free. I've resumed going to the gym, I wondered if I would be received differently because of what's transpired over the summer. Sure enough, a few of the elderly white folks have taken to eying me suspiciously, rumor has it that brown people are out to destroy America. Muahaha! But in spite of the hyperbole I feel strangely at peace. Call me the breeze.
I've mentioned before that some consider this place to be on the cutting edge of hate. I have to tell you that I don't know. I'll leave judgment to ones supposedly smarter than me. This is undoubtedly a police state. Paradoxically, it's also a great place for criminals and miscreants. (Truly, if you're interested in fucking people over you'll dig it here.) Nevertheless, this is no place for revolutionaries.
I guess no one cares.
My best friend says he wants to move to Oregon. He says he can't stand it here anymore. Secretly, I hope he doesn't. It would be endlessly annoying if he were to end up happy; he's kind of a dick. I tried to explain to him that the best way to fight something is to "just be yourself". I don't know where I got that from, but later it occurred to me that my friend probably doesn't really know who he is.
How can you know what you want if you don't know who you are?
Your Pal, AN
