Month: September 2011

Greece

I go to the best places. Not this place. But a place like it.

You should know I go to the best places with no warning. I keep a packed bag in the closet by the door. I keep some CLIF bars in the top pouch.

It’s a hiking backpack.

I do that, too. The hiking is not always the best. Sometimes there are too many people and a trail as wide as four men laid end to end. Tall dudes.

Those trails are, quite literally, balls.

The best places are the best because they’ve got people in them, of some sort. But good people.

Like you.

(But not you.)

((Maybe you—do you own a flask?))

I think the real question is: “Is this place real? Could I have sex with someone right here and not give a damn?”

There’s some nice shade. A nice view.

So, yes.

Greece

I go to the best places. Not this place. But a place like it.

You should know I go to the best places with no warning. I keep a packed bag in the closet by the door. I keep some CLIF bars in the top pouch.

It’s a hiking backpack.

I do that, too. The hiking is not always the best. Sometimes there are too many people and a trail as wide as four men laid end to end. Tall dudes.

Those trails are, quite literally, balls.

The best places are the best because they’ve got people in them, of some sort. But good people.

Like you.

(But not you.)

((Maybe you—do you own a flask?))

I think the real question is: “Is this place real? Could I have sex with someone right here and not give a damn?”

There’s some nice shade. A nice view.

So, yes.

I am too base.

I can feed myself, but advanced cooking science escapes me. I cover the basics and essentially consume like a hunter-gatherer. Raw (or fire grilled) is simple, effective, and doesn’t leave behind all sorts of waste (my biggest gripe with anything that is cooked and sold quickly, wrapped in paper and plastic). I only really indulge in a group setting. It becomes a part of the social ritual.

For instance… Yea, I’ll tell you about this. I made a bacon explosion. I purchased the finest of everything. Awesome smoked bacon, sausage from an obscure shop in the city that was recommended by foodie confidants. The BBQ sauce flowed like molasses. I planned each step in spite of the Internet’s numerous sources on how to prepare it. I slaved over that fucker. If a man could pour his soul into culinary creation, I did it. The crowning achievement was not the product of my vision, but the confounded faces of the BBQ goers who had no clue what to make of it.

“You grab a beer. You break yourself off a piece of that. You sit down and thank me.”

And they did. That night became a part of the myth I leave behind.

half-awake notes

It’s interesting that people get excited over obtaining someone’s—anyone’s—number.

I never compliment a girl on her ass unless it is with the utmost, heartfelt sincerity.

It upsets me to be told I should marry a trophy wife. Fuck you.

Trophy wives are anything but.

Marriage is having someone to help complete puzzles in the morning.

Forever. (Forever).

Marriage is creepy, in some senses.

The sense of smell is most alert during sex.

Touch me.

Do you really want to hurt. Me. (Do you).

It’s alright I’m a male shield.

The testosterone is strong with this one.

A Frenchman lives on an island, alone, for decades.

Willpower is utter defiance. Stubbornness.

There must be a disorder for that.

There’s a disorder for everything.

Can OCD be a disorder?

Can a disorder be OC?

Psychology is academic.

People are multi-layered neural organisms capable of atrocities and niceties.

I could stand to learn about atrocities.

Don’t trust niceties.

But I do trust.

Still.

high

Found me a highway pretty in the mornin. No one around but the thoughts in muh head. Runnin like a demon’s got a pretty virgin waitin in his bed. Air’s swellin in, DEEP FUCKIN BREATH. Runnin home to mama who’s waitin in muh head. Didn’t keep her safe from the demon in her bed. Knots in muh leg been tuggin miles long, DON’T STOP RUNNIN. Been thinkin bout the fat I been losin in the road. Knots musclin up and ready to explode. Thinkin bout the pretty pale virgin that I fucked instead. Left her cryin sorry that she lied, HARDER UP THE HILL. Head’s all empty cause there ain’t no man can run faster than the shit he brings and dumps up on his son. Steady as she goes, drive into her deep. Hard to stop an action’s been set upon the road. Still feelin steady got to go, got to. Harder down the path I been followin to sleep, ANIMAL’S BEHIND YOU. No words no nothin but dreamin bout muh hand round ol red room girl’s wrists. Runnin demon’s on me I got to stop soon. Insides feelin as empty as the road. Pumpin harder cryin ain’t comin from me but from every little angel that I bring along to see. Every step down’s takin it outta me. Harder, faster, soon’s it gotta end, soon’s it gotta go, soon’s the air runnin low in muh head thoughts a fog and no stoppin no stoppin sorry lied sorry truth sorry want it sorry take it sorry broken sorry never doin nothin wrong but wantin to be a stone be love when no one’s else’s got any fuckin clue what to do, GOD COLLAPSE.

I never have found humor in self-pity and misfortune. All I see are problems to resolve and issues to eliminate for the sake of stabilization.

Less entertaining, less stressful. A rock to hold onto during a storm.

I never have found humor in self-pity and misfortune. All I see are problems to resolve and issues to eliminate for the sake of stabilization.

Less entertaining, less stressful. A rock to hold onto during a storm.

Age.

I sit it in meetings. Everyone has a say and I want to state “Do what I fuckin’ tell you to do.” Perhaps I am not the group contributor that I thought. Productivity is unproductive. Committee, committee, committee.

It isn’t so much that I stop caring, but more that I learn not to expend energy on the things that aren’t important. My work is important. What I seek to accomplish is important. What doesn’t directly contribute toward this is on the wayside, and what lies on the wayside is inevitably discarded. While there is no direct impact, the passive impact cannot be ignored. Everyone’s got to earn a living.

And yet I sit there, glaze over, and I want nothing more than to sink my teeth into a creative endeavor. Some way to lose my mind, free up space and fly around. My mind is a structured one and I have only so many ways, and so much time, to let go.

Age.

I sit it in meetings. Everyone has a say and I want to state “Do what I fuckin’ tell you to do.” Perhaps I am not the group contributor that I thought. Productivity is unproductive. Committee, committee, committee.

It isn’t so much that I stop caring, but more that I learn not to expend energy on the things that aren’t important. My work is important. What I seek to accomplish is important. What doesn’t directly contribute toward this is on the wayside, and what lies on the wayside is inevitably discarded. While there is no direct impact, the passive impact cannot be ignored. Everyone’s got to earn a living.

And yet I sit there, glaze over, and I want nothing more than to sink my teeth into a creative endeavor. Some way to lose my mind, free up space and fly around. My mind is a structured one and I have only so many ways, and so much time, to let go.