Dude, is that even english?

     I believe to have lost the last grūmus of social skills I used to have. It happened about a year ago, and yes - I did try looking for it. 

     A lot of things have happened in that span of time, and out of fear of not being understood, I simply mirror people; but as I open my mouth, they just keep staring at me, as if waiting for me to finish the sentence, yet I've placed the period seventy-three seconds ago... 

     When I was younger I used to be a great entertainer! People laughed at my jokes. Today? I've lost the art. I also talked a lot. Today? I hum and haw. Maybe in third or fourth grade I had a girl as a best friend. She was somewhat better than me, she thought; she used to initiate the game of "who can stay silent longer" on the walk home from school. She had puffy, white, smooth hands; mine were always cracked and bleeding. She was wiser, of course. Today she lives in China, and we have nothing to talk about. Maybe it's because I've lost all social skills. 

     And so it seems it's easier to find a book to read than someone to talk to. Yet again, as some cool cat had said: "Dialogue is like intercourse - you must first excite the other person into it, otherwise it's forced."  

photo: opengeek.net

Intellectual Bliss & Its Desires

     “'Name the colors, blind the eye' is an old Zen saying, illustrating that the intellect’s habitual ways of branding and labeling creates a terrible experiential loss by displacing the vibrant, living reality with a steady stream of labels. It is the same way with space, which is solely the conceptual mind’s way of clearing its throat, of pausing between identified symbols." 

Gives a new spin on an old & tattered "Ignorance is bliss" saying, eh? You can spit in my chai, I don't care.

Carmel Jenkin

Imma fly

     Change the frequency to increase the wave of light to decrease the blue to manipulate the gravity field and you'll fly. Into space, if desired.

For the love of consequences

     Какое страшное слово - consequences, unpleasant, to say the least. А по-русски обычное слово - последствия, и ничего, переживём. But shouldn't consequences be loved? It is, after all, the force that brings change, opens up eyes and doors, and minds; it's something that makes you think, understand. And let me tell you, most of the time people (read "I") only notice what is called to be "bad" consequences, hence the negative vibe, no? And no one (read "I") wants to accept that they've brought it onto themselves. I fight myself all the time - "I didn't do this, not my fault". But it is! And it's magnificent! Look around now - the dust is lifting, the air is moving, things are becoming alive! Life is in motion. Look up the old fart who was sadly bedridden because of arthritis, and then started dancing. Google will tell you. Meanwhile, I'll tell you a story that might not have anything to do with anything, but then it does. It's like a loop, if you will. Or won't. I was sitting there one day with my best friend, drinking tea. She'd been a vegan for a while at that time, and I had just started to give up certain foods out of curiosity. And so she tells me, "After sometime of not eating meat, you realize the absurdity of eating meat, it just doesn't make any sense." I didn't say anything but I thought to myself, "what a load - I'm vegetarian now, and I don't think as you think!" Then I forgot all about it. Today, as a vegan, I understand what she was saying. But you must come outside of the thoughts, of the bubble, of what you're used to, outside of patterns, outside - because you can't see a different point from the inside. Unless you experience it, live it, you can't talk about it. Honestly, do something first, love the consequences (because it's not all that scary), and the world will only keep opening up to you. I think that's pretty cool.

Bodies in Motion Photography

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