3/31/2011
Dismissive Cleopatra
The Empress of her Kingdom decided to pick and choose which of his words suited her best. And he, the loury slave to her intent...(CENSORED BY HER MAJESTY).
3/30/2011
Telos
Sociologically, psychologically, evolutionarily, what if a belief in god (whether he/she is fiction or not) serves a purpose? And what if this purpose is not unlike human's innate want for sex? Our far too over zealous want for sex is what propagates the species, yes? So what if a belief in a higher power helps keep the species alive as well? What if its goal is to give us hope? What if this 'hope' is an evolutionary trait?
...
March 30. Clearer thoughts have run through my mind. Like a buffalo in the land of birds. Today's outcome will again be forgotten.
Tragedy Comedy
19 14
Tragedy Comedy
19 14
3/29/2011
Blue Milk Crates
I peaked over the fence to catch a glimpse of the good life...when the crate I had been standing on fussed and tipped under my toes.
Hookerdom
Rejection is as old as prostitution. In fact, I do believe, it's what inspired whoredom in the first place.
The Straw and the Camel's Back
The moment perched herself on the back of the camel, pulled the 'last' straw from out of her knapsack and crippled that cud-chewing mammal 'til it could stand no more...
3/28/2011
O and P
My Optimism and Pessimism share a house.
O occupies the room just down the hall; and P rents the room just passed your shoulder. They share the common areas (the kitchen, library, living room, etc.). But mostly they keep to themselves.
O is a genuine and happy sort, but often absent minded. P is neat and particular--some would say overly so.
Yesterday, O left the mustard out, forgot to do the dishes, and even left the fridge wide opened. He trotted off to bed without thinking twice about it.
P, in retaliation, covered the toilet in cling wrap.
Oh the hijinks these two get into.
O occupies the room just down the hall; and P rents the room just passed your shoulder. They share the common areas (the kitchen, library, living room, etc.). But mostly they keep to themselves.
O is a genuine and happy sort, but often absent minded. P is neat and particular--some would say overly so.
Yesterday, O left the mustard out, forgot to do the dishes, and even left the fridge wide opened. He trotted off to bed without thinking twice about it.
P, in retaliation, covered the toilet in cling wrap.
Oh the hijinks these two get into.
The Audience
Never write for an audience. They're insidious, self-serving halfwits hell bent on disappointing you.
(X) V. (Y)
Essential to existence (to all life) is mitosis; that is to say, division. And from the stand point of human cognition...once division occurs definitions are essential; the original cell is A, the new cell is B, so on and so forth.
On a molecular level...for the greater good...cells work in harmony with each other. Cell A functions in a particular way that Cell B does not or perhaps Cell A functions in a certain way simply because of Cell B. Either way, Cell A does not boast how much greater it is to Cell B. And Cell B hardly has the time to boast how much greater it is Cell A.
Perhaps this is because cells (in and of themselves) are not conscious of their division or their definitions. Functionality (it seems) does not require consciousness.
Detrimentally, however, human socialization is guided by consciousness more so than functionality. And so it is...that when we divide, let’s say, Human A from Human B... the harmony of ‘division’ is thwarted.
Consciousness, funnily enough, adds a third element to the equation. In addition to: 1.) division and 2.) defining, consciousness includes 3.) opposition. Group B is not just a division from/of Group A. Instead, Group A (from A's perspective) is far greater than Group B. And strangely enough (it is boasted) Group B (it believes) is far superior than Group A.
On a molecular level...for the greater good...cells work in harmony with each other. Cell A functions in a particular way that Cell B does not or perhaps Cell A functions in a certain way simply because of Cell B. Either way, Cell A does not boast how much greater it is to Cell B. And Cell B hardly has the time to boast how much greater it is Cell A.
Perhaps this is because cells (in and of themselves) are not conscious of their division or their definitions. Functionality (it seems) does not require consciousness.
Detrimentally, however, human socialization is guided by consciousness more so than functionality. And so it is...that when we divide, let’s say, Human A from Human B... the harmony of ‘division’ is thwarted.
Consciousness, funnily enough, adds a third element to the equation. In addition to: 1.) division and 2.) defining, consciousness includes 3.) opposition. Group B is not just a division from/of Group A. Instead, Group A (from A's perspective) is far greater than Group B. And strangely enough (it is boasted) Group B (it believes) is far superior than Group A.
Human Vegatarians
I wonder if the brontosaurus ever mocked, criticized, or snickered at the T-Rex for being a meat eater...?
Thankfully, the benefit of evolution is social condemnation.
Thankfully, the benefit of evolution is social condemnation.
Maternal
His now disfigured mother, at 17, made a 'talented' living as a go-go dancer while in Montreal.
In 1945 (at the age of 22), his grandmother, terrified and sobbing, was raped by a platoon of Russian soldiers en route to their 'liberation' of Berlin.
His grandfather was an airplane repairman for the Third Reich, a Jewish sympathizer who abused his wife. He had a weak chin (if at all) and bedded every floozy this side of Frankfurt.
Before he was twenty, one uncle spent over a year in an iron lung paralyzed by polio. And the other, 40 years later, drunkenly fell down the stairs of his dilapidated home and landed so awkwardly against the wall that he asphyxiated himself.
In 1945 (at the age of 22), his grandmother, terrified and sobbing, was raped by a platoon of Russian soldiers en route to their 'liberation' of Berlin.
His grandfather was an airplane repairman for the Third Reich, a Jewish sympathizer who abused his wife. He had a weak chin (if at all) and bedded every floozy this side of Frankfurt.
Before he was twenty, one uncle spent over a year in an iron lung paralyzed by polio. And the other, 40 years later, drunkenly fell down the stairs of his dilapidated home and landed so awkwardly against the wall that he asphyxiated himself.
Sigh
(X): 'Is there anything more comedic than a 'curious' wife blaming her pregnancy on divine intervention?'
(Y): 'Sure, being the husband who believes her.'
(Z): 'Ba dump bump.'
(Y): 'Sure, being the husband who believes her.'
(Z): 'Ba dump bump.'
The Nervous Control Freak
Why he was here surprised no one. Why he refused to leave...that perplexed us all.
My First Night at the Americana Motel
The Americana Motel was like ten feet away. My passenger, having puked already (a couple of roads back), was well on her way to doing it again. We needed a stop. And we needed it now.
Once I Had a Little Game
I have played Conversational Chess for a number of years now. It's an exercise in tact and courtesy, altruism and diplomacy; but mostly it's a performance in keeping the monster in me miles away from the fool in you.
Advanced but Primitive
She reminds me of a mentally swift and easy-going neighborhood dog...who miraculously knows how to talk. Yet spends the entirety of the night 'humping' your leg...without ever breathing a word.
The Reason
God isn't dead, silly. She's crippled. Or grounded. Lying in a ditch some where. Or maybe she's being molested by that creepy uncle of hers...
Either way, the universe's (ultimate) Fancy Pants is busy. and has no time for you. So get over it.
Either way, the universe's (ultimate) Fancy Pants is busy. and has no time for you. So get over it.
3/27/2011
Déjà vu
Déjà vu is your mind recalling the elements of a dream; the atmosphere of that experience.
The ethereal quality of the dream, the lack of specificity in the memory, and our immutable desire to be far greater than what we are...forces us to view this moment as a spiritual awakening. Shamefully so.
The ethereal quality of the dream, the lack of specificity in the memory, and our immutable desire to be far greater than what we are...forces us to view this moment as a spiritual awakening. Shamefully so.
3/26/2011
'Dramatic'
What profit do you gain from uttering that word? I suppose one could argue that it is just a word and therefore no harm had been committed. But here were are, yet again, and here we shall remain, yet again...questioning just what it is that inspires you to open your foolishly snippy and abhorrently simple, incontinent and caddish mouth.
The Day I Met Ophelia
I had scarcely begun remembering her name when she started in telling her story.
3/25/2011
Salute
Good luck to the man who knows how to play to your weaknesses. I mean you do, right? Over and over again, obsessively so and without remorse.
Reductions
(Pronoun) (auxiliary verb) (verb) (definite article) (noun) (preposition) (noun); (verb) (adjective) (noun) (noun). (Conjunction), (pronoun), (adjective) (noun) (preposition) (definite article) (noun), (pronoun) (auxiliary verb) (verb) (preposition) (definite article) (noun) (preposition) (adjective) (noun).
3/24/2011
Loyalities
I had no intention of abandoning my post. None at all. My post, however, had other things are her mind. And loyalty was not one of them.
Loyality
I learned everything one needs to know about loyalty, luck, and love...from a back issue of Mad Magazine.
Lemon Wedges
She uses her judgment like a weeping whore uses her tears,
Who does so to gain little more than a momentary upper hand in a situation she never should have participated in to begin with.
Who does so to gain little more than a momentary upper hand in a situation she never should have participated in to begin with.
3/23/2011
Hardly Aware of What She Does
She sits in her room rubbing perfume & self-help books all over herself. Sinking into the abyss of her decay.
...
March 23. There is little left to learn in completing another (capable) man's chores.
Tragedy Comedy
18 14
Tragedy Comedy
18 14
Absinthe
Her Honesty finally collapsed...to the kitchen floor...into the maelstrom of all it shared.
3/21/2011
3/20/2011
Scoundrels
I was approached by a succession of scoundrels today. One by one. One after the other; each shaking my hand, praising me for the immoral feat I had just accomplished.
Until, finally, the last scoundrel approached, promptly smiled, tilted his head and in a low guttural voice...perniciously muttered:
'Join us, James; join us.'
And I did.
Until, finally, the last scoundrel approached, promptly smiled, tilted his head and in a low guttural voice...perniciously muttered:
'Join us, James; join us.'
And I did.
...
March 20. It is found at times...that a torn tendon, internal bleeding, and a rather unflattering disposition will inspire even the most well intentioned physician to mutter the word 'Cancer.'
Tragedy Comedy
17 14
Tragedy Comedy
17 14
Oregano
Oregano is the putrid whore of the spice world. And what's worse...she's quite content with that distinction.
An Infant Rebellion
The revolt began with a whisper...in a crowded room...on a morning meant more for lullabies than a boy's coming of age.
The revolt began with a whisper...in a crowded room...on a morning meant more for celebration than political plot.
The revolt began with a whisper...in a crowded room...on a morning meant more for celebration than political plot.
3/17/2011
...
March 17. The burden of Sisyphus hangs to my ear. Push to one end of the spectrum only to fall to the other. Rejection/Praise/Praise/Rejection. The gallantry of mediocrity has never seemed so necessary.
Tragedy Comedy
17 13
Tragedy Comedy
17 13
Roaming...
A number of thoughts are roaming through my head. Some felicitous, others bright. But none with enough stamina to make it through the night.
21st Century
21st century socialization is a cold and uncomfortable room with far too many revolving doors and twice as many odoriferous guests.
Publishing
Burdened by having to make the necessary gestures, to thrust my way past the overcrowding of doubts.
3/16/2011
...
March 16. There is little in this universe more uplifting than a participatory activity without meaning. The lyric of the day will be forgotten. Hopefully.
Tragedy Comedy
16 13
Tragedy Comedy
16 13
Ethnically Diversifying the Social Milieu
Needed: 1 oppressed South African, 2 eccentric Norwegians, 6 Brazilian models, a smathering of Russian bourgeoisie, and, umm, 1 or 2 real-estate savvy South Koreans. No! 3 real-estate savvy South Koreans!!! 3! That should make for a good enough start.
My Dear Ophelia...
My Dear Ophelia:
It is in our most quiet and reflective moments, where we are guided by constitutional reserve and intelligent virtues, where our stubborn countenance is born again, stoic and fixed, that the stalwart marrow of my heart still gnashes and gnaws its caged limbs, its voice though muted, smothered and subdued, still calls out your name, your unparallelled frame, indelible embrace—its want to propagate our spirited story.
So, today and in the days to come, uncouth and silently prowling our great moon-lit stage, let us live, Ophelia, not like a weary stifled witness, but like mad starving children, wildly roaming the city streets—purging the calls of our histories, giving our lives form!
Humbly yours,
W.C.
It is in our most quiet and reflective moments, where we are guided by constitutional reserve and intelligent virtues, where our stubborn countenance is born again, stoic and fixed, that the stalwart marrow of my heart still gnashes and gnaws its caged limbs, its voice though muted, smothered and subdued, still calls out your name, your unparallelled frame, indelible embrace—its want to propagate our spirited story.
So, today and in the days to come, uncouth and silently prowling our great moon-lit stage, let us live, Ophelia, not like a weary stifled witness, but like mad starving children, wildly roaming the city streets—purging the calls of our histories, giving our lives form!
Humbly yours,
W.C.
3/15/2011
...
March 15: The cluster cycle has subsided. A laborious lesson in patience. The benefits of western medicine.
Tragedy Comedy
15 13
Tragedy Comedy
15 13
Consumption...
She is purging the calls of history; giving new life form. And I, four rooms down the hall, I am gorging on the feast of old friends.
3/14/2011
3/13/2011
The Breakfast of Champions
Assholishry is an impatient sport.
Assholishry is a quality play for the asinine sort...
Assholishry is a dying art.
Assholishry is a quality play for the asinine sort...
Assholishry is a dying art.
Roles
So long as human beings identify themselves with what exists between their legs...half the population will have no reason to relate to the other...
3/12/2011
Period...
This is a sentence about the upside of death. It's not the greatest sentence; but it's still a sentence. And now...now...this is a sentence about bowling. This sentence is slightly better than the first one, but by no means categorically great either.
3/11/2011
Biomechanics....
I am often perplexed by how shameful the human body looks when it slips on ice and flails its arms about...
Groping the air hoping to catch some invisible friend.
Groping the air hoping to catch some invisible friend.
Women...
Watching an inherently strong woman's vulnerability peak out from behind the shadows...is, by far, the most attractive and ingenious display of character...anyone of you will ever muster.
3/10/2011
...
March 10. The Love Ghosts are on the move again, Gentlemen. We received the telegram, late this afternoon...from the eldest of the two.
Tragedy Comedy
14 12
Tragedy Comedy
14 12
Just Play...
Were she able to sell the deeds of her youth (a penny a piece perhaps) to gain the good fortune of smiling again...
I imagine she would.
I imagine she would.
3/09/2011
A Summer's Ghost...
It is a rarity finding someone in this universe who can slap you with a stop sign like she can...
What is more, and even more uncommon...is finding someone who wish she could.
What is more, and even more uncommon...is finding someone who wish she could.
Pride...
Pride's greatest foe is Experience. Naw, it's true...pride told me--in that rare moment of honesty (we all go through).
So, let's tickle Experience, shall we? Coo che coo, Experience; coo che coo.
So, let's tickle Experience, shall we? Coo che coo, Experience; coo che coo.
3/08/2011
Appreciation V. Achievement
All human errors are dependent upon the want to achieve. That is to say, dissatisfaction...with what one has already gained.
Loquacious Honesty...
Her Honesty appeared dizzy and woozy; sickly and pale too. It swayed to the left and then to the right. But I'm proud to say, it hung to the task of catching itself. And it did. Until it puked.
3/06/2011
3/05/2011
Work in Progress
Oh, to have been a rebellious angel watching the desperate, poor, and confused lick the heels of hope the legislators of the Celestial City carelessly designed and comically set out...
3/03/2011
Reincarnation...
Should it ever be discovered that reincarnation exists, the merit of time travel will become absolute.
The Night...
She tied on her disguise like a child would a bow. And sought out to drink as much as she could throw...
After a night of drinking and the hiking of her dress. She was found warming the floor with her cheek and her breath...
After a night of drinking and the hiking of her dress. She was found warming the floor with her cheek and her breath...
Photography...
Photography (like music) is quick and proficient. Photography immediately strikes the senses. Literature, however, saunters and limps; she tardily takes her time en route to delight.
3/02/2011
Ideas...
The joy of coaxing an infant idea to climb out of the abyss, to tug on your ear and whisper her story? Immeasurable.
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