Friday, August 19, 2011


Today was a day. 1. Instead of Filip arriving in the afternoon, Ernie and Kim showed up mid-morning, while I was still in my bed-clothes, and we hung for about six hours. Jesse tagged along, and we picked up Aiden and went skating at the Bar Beach Bowl. Today was one of those rare, desirable days wherein the absurdity of life was subconsciously comprehended to a profoundly total degree; and I felt very little to absolutely no inhibition; skating at Bar Beach, dealing with acquaitences of listening to rude and lude songs with the younger sibling. It was life as I purposed and as it should be, in its most lucid and perfect state. 2. A new feeling of wasted potential in light of my inability to find purpose of desire or direction in life. This was/is closely related to my re-enrolling in university.  3. In conversation with Melissa and a newbie, I felt, not learned, but understanding. On some yet unfathomed level I felt as if I understood the world, and sensed intuitively my progression as a conscious being. Very slow progress, but progress nontheless rewarding. Lastly, in a rather obscure and blase move, - I took a shit in the shower. Mhm. I have a blurred yet sensually vivid memory of taste-testing a stool in a similar situation when I was very young, still aged in single digits, and I had recently felt some weak, grey, but consistent... invitational 'hey' to do so again, minus the culinary aspect, and so, well, I just down an' did it. In such a queer setting. I could only think of it as like an abortion. It was the most surreally out-of-place object, you cannot imagine. Sardonically (synchronicity?), mother, immediately afterwards, told me to exit the shower. (Relatively) Healthy bodies make for no waste. Trying to remove it was like staving flesh of a partially-mummified body with acid-spray. The exoskeleton is wont to stay. You can extrapolate, yes? Maybe no, it is not so pleasant for most. On the whole I was neither really intruiged, nor once repulsed. I am a creature of necessity, it seems; creativity, experimentation or risk are never call for wonder or grand emotive response. I may as well have been buttering toast.

Adiosa bombosa. Dire need for routine.

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