Where to Pocket my Fears

     So back to the fear of pockets. Is anyone else with me? Come on, aren't you afraid of paper cup sleeves or clouds falling down, or a scary president? I'm afraid of pockets. Not sticking my hands into the unknown depths and iffy darkness full of lint and loud candy wrappers, and sharp matches, and loose sticky tobacco, no. I'm very concerned about pockets' ability to hold things. I'm a girl, and I only own two pairs of pants, that limits my interaction with pockets by a lot. I just don't trust them. The design of pockets seems to carry only one function at a time, which doesn't help my matters. There are just "hand" pockets, for example, those diagonal slits that can't possibly hold anything but your hands and a bad posture. Those will lose my money and my favorite scraps of paper with important information of movie titles and names, and quotes. Guy pockets have to be lined with plastic wrap or something, because they hold their whole livelihoods in there, with no fear. I guess this "fear" is only a mistrust. Maybe if I learn to let go ...

photo on an interesting site here: http://www.vam.ac.uk/content/articles/a/history-of-pockets

Make shit up, get paid for it.

     Allow me to entertain myself. Here's a research about how infectious disease predicts gender equality. In short, the more balanced the "equality", the lower the disease levels. Actually, it's the other way around, or is it? Did you even read the article? If you know how to get sums of cash for "research" work, contact me below, it'll set me up for life! As one comment on the article states, "That's a bit like saying a less discriminatory eating practices led to reductions in hunger in Soylent Green..." I can make shit up that can overthrow governments! For the sake of science, of course. 

     

Small observations, great voyage

     Orange and white combination has been popping up everywhere for me, in great amounts and joyous patterns, on all I love.
     Smiling is first and foremost for me, myself, not for other people. For other people second. I want to learn to smile for myself.
     The sky is alive. It's one of those things you've grown up with and pay little attention to. Until it hits you - "Eurika!" I'm alive, the earth is alive, the oceans are alive, the water itself is alive, trees & animals are alive! The sky, therefore, is alive! Talk to me, sky, it's you & I from now on.
     Can't stand it when people don't follow through. In anything. Just finish it already! As in when someone cleans the windows and the spray bottle and towels are left there, forgotten, and unseen when more trash piles up on them. Then it gets topped with a forgotten in excitement shipping box, which lays there until it decomposes. This is where trash sculptures come from, trust me, I know.

Tim Noble, Sue Wester Art. 

Not the sexy kind of love

     Many words of wisdom I've heard over time about loving everybody. Two commons ones are: I have a desire to give myself away to every stranger no matter how dirty or dumb, and to love everyone means loving no one. I respect all opinions greatly, even if just out of fascination with them. Here's my personal. I believe that loving everyone is loving yourself. It's recognizing and being aware of the Oneness. Loving everyone is, ultimately, happiness.

can't find photo credit

Pretentious Thursday

     There's a woman where I live, in the same valley, somewhere nearby, she's the main character here. Her name is Creepy Susan (fictitious name, her real name is Susan). Every time we run into each other, or more honestly - every time she jumps out at me from the crowd - I get very uncomfortable. Besides her persuasions to sell "the plan" to the right people and the talks of transcendence into higher consciousness up the ladder of I'm not sure what (I mean, we all agree, right, we know what's up), she stares at me. At the end of every conversation she closes her mouth & stares me in the eyes. I've even caught her doing that from across a crowded room before! It seems like she's: a) working to hypnotize me into selling "the plan"; b) dissecting me in her mind and swimming in my blood; c) trying hard to telepathically pass ideas into my head. Whichever one it is, it's unpleasant & creepy, and makes me want to deck her in the face. But really, I come from an educated family, we're all civilized here. We don't use fists with force. I just don't know how to deal with C.S. Maybe next time I'll flash her.