| 7/31/2003 12:00:00 AM |
[ come out! don't shiver there! ]
lost in the maze of an open field, they quiver and quake to awake, never-knowing what use, let alone what good, their fears will render. as if the mere glimpse of that fateful stamp: return to sender, would blind the mind and pierce the eye, with plank or fly. slowly and surly, they are always changing.
rain rain, go away. little yoyo wants to play. yup. so i bean thinking. about motzi and ma'adim. i'd very much like to go there. hehe...mo tzi. mono lake. ma'adim. mua'dib. i'd like to go to them all. mmm. hrmmm. i guess i'm muddled on all the other fronts, though. even if they are just a whistful whistle away. |
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| 7/26/2003 12:08:00 AM |
[ stop searching. happiness will find you. ]
that was the wonderful wisdom someone left on my path to naphood. i think it might just have been a futile attempt to make me realize there was no cookie to match the fortune... insidious. nothing to be done though. oohoh, i just got back from some random concert. we saw kill hannah, evenout, and maroon 5. but for some reason we left before everclear. because everything is already wonderful now? yeah, maroon 5 was pretty good. live, at least. and they had an awesome guitarist! i was like, "duuude, you rock out!" and he was like, "yeah, i know"... well, that's what the guitar was screaming at least. if only i had seen him when i was 7. then i'd definitely be a rockstar instead of an aspiring... ian. but alas, there is no cookie. and my mind is still on fire. feels like i'm on fire, dancing myself out of the womb... is it strange to dance so soon? |
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| 7/20/2003 02:08:00 AM |
[ entropical breeze ]
it seems like anytime i try to find some deeper answer to what life's all about, things end in resignation. i read something which talked about how fictitious writers are always fighting the tides, while the nonfictitious writers are always playing volleyball. but maybe that's only true of writing, because everyone's gotta be swimming at some point. the problem is just seeing that sometimes you can float or possibly even stand. sometimes you look up and you're in a pool. no diving. no running. all adults must be accompanied by a child under 20. i talk to all of these people. and nobody knows. not what they're looking for. not what i'm looking for. all they know is that it's no good. it might not even be the finding that's needed. maybe it's only finding the reason for looking. 'ah yes, my keys! that's what i was looking for. so i can drive. to the store. to pick up some dumplings. and orange sherbert. and another loaf of bread for good measure. yup, that's what she said we need. and i otta pick up some soy milk too. for that experimental lassi.' then i can hop in my cerulean subaru and drift down to the hollowed out wall with a fruit mosaic balanced precariously underneath a fade-striped awning, yawning. and toss a wave and a smile to the wrinkles behind the counter as i reach for a homewellwornmadehand basket. wrinkles. he knows my name, and i know his. we are related. it might as well be the same name. whip van wrinkle, rip van winkle. he notices the soy milk and asks about my lassi. she's stronger than ever, i says. he nods and knows and rings up the world. i hand him my work. and grin because anywhere else would have mandated change. not here though. here all formalities have been pitched away. for the sunglassed matron saint with too-thick lip-stick there will be change. for the well-brushed adonis combing through shampoos there will be change. for the fine-tuned madonna, saviors in tow, in whisps of tow, there will be change. but not here. not in front of the milk, not in front of the dumplings, not in front of the icey cream of the crop, not in front of the rising and risen. twenty years. twenty years and change. or change-less. twenty years minus the change-less. one-hundred quarters and not a dime of time. it's all nothing but a dream.
heheh, i feel surprisingly better now! and garp-like? yes, i enjoy hyphenating--- i want so much to help. and hyphens are like tiny threads of my self tied to motes and emoted away to you, world at large. like stairways to slumber:
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| love
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| ever up
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| up |
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| 7/19/2003 01:33:00 AM |
[ a spotlight caught in a deer ]
And Thseng-sie desired to know:
"Which has answered correctly?''
And Kung said, "They have all answered correctly,
"That is to say, each in his nature." yeah yeah! i got this puzzlytoymagig in the mail today. it's cooool. i can build all kinds of tree-d shapes. good practice for imagineering...
and i wish i could finally see... |
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| 7/16/2003 09:56:00 PM |
[ brave sir il and the dali llamas ]
the key and the kite
the wind glances up,
from time to time,
a precious interlude
... from lifting.
it hangs,
breath held,
while leaves and waves
rock themselves to sleep.
what would the world be without wind?
basking in stillness.
frozen in time.
recuperating.
from all that blows your hair back.
oohooh, i was thinking about dragons in the shower this morning. yes, i know my pomme is lacking a certain ceci n'est pas une pipe. err... je ne sais quoi. but dragons beat pipes anyday. so yeah, i was thinking how widespread the idea of dragons actually is. and how they're such great little fire-breathing embodiments of change. somehow the western idea got corruptified though, so that change is feared and heroes are those who can prevent change... from devouring pitch-fork wielding peasants. there's always this double-sidedness. good and bad wrapped up in wax-paper and served for 79c/lb. and that's the view i like... on pumpernickel. there's nothing you can do but look for the best. in all things. like my repetitivativeness. :)
unfortunately, all that spare change got me thinking of nature-nurture. it's a dark day in showerdom when the idea of nature-nurture appears. i've got this unconscious fear of snakes... even if it is always quickly replaced by curiosity, i always go fight-or-flight when i hear things slithering. so i'm wondering if that's at all related to a fear of change. oh yeah, so the idea of dragons being inherently related to fear comes from monkeys. they have these automatic, inborn, responses to snakes, hawks, and leopards: up, down, and, oh shit. now the dragon is sorta all threee of these demons, which leaves only the oh shit response. and uh... it only seems nurtural that dragons are related to change? anyway... snakophobia...serpentophobia... yeah, the thing where four limbs good, no limbs oh shit... i wonder if that reflects some deeper fear of all that changes... i guess it's a whole different pomme. one we all ate long ago. one i'm still munching on. |
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| 7/13/2003 11:28:00 PM |
[ zapping the zeitgeist ]
well, i planted some day lilies today. it's pretty cool how their bulbs look so much like fingers clutching the earth. then when one of the bulbs breaks off, i can trick my mind into thinking it was a pinkie and run around screaming. but no matter how i try the tangerine always ripens, the under toad always sits on the stairs. sweet jesus, something to say would be prodigious... well, nothing but water and love. |
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| 7/12/2003 01:57:00 AM |
[ nothing but a giggle ]
nowhere fast. said the man to his past... it's pretty funky to waltz to my car after work. collapse over the steering wheel. and before i know it some wonderfully unknown music is pressure-washing away my exhaustion. so i honkingly back into traffic and meander home, trying to peel a gigantic orange with one hand... it all seems so impossibly hard. well, the peeling of the orange aaaand life in general. there just seems like so much junk. so much apprehension. so much masking and not enough basking. nobody knows what there looking for?... mostly. but i'll try and i'll try and i won't give up. and i'll sigh and i'll sigh and... then i'll sup? there's so much worth trying and sighing for and i can't help it one bit. and pity the foo' who mistakes exhaustion for resignation, for then shall fortune feel my wrath? my ever-so-sleepy and infinitely sarcastic wrath! you'll never defeat...*yawn*... the...*yawn*... i guess fortune can have a reprive until tomorrow. but come sunrise... or maybe high noon... then we'll see some comeupin's... hehe, in several ways. |
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| 7/10/2003 01:49:00 AM |
[ ripping off the pizza... er...piece o' chains ]
nooooooooo. hrm. so blogger ate my dream. *shakes fist* i hope it was tasty!... oh well. it was vivid enough that i'll remember. but now i must make more. i have to prepare for my career as a professional dreamer. good night, world. be well, love. |
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| 7/08/2003 01:00:00 AM |
[ beware the rubber ducky ]
far from forgotten,
fielded in blue,
the lifeboat awaits.
to sink
under fearless feet.
to float
under hopeless heels.
well, need more words. it just wasn't flowin. hehe, it's strange. i was at my friends house and somehow they were doing karaoke. *shakes head* it was in chinese. they taught me some characters when we went to the beach, but the karaoke apparently didn't appreciate those particular fiends. there was one that i recognized, though. tao. it took me a while (i was distracted by the immense urge to dance for having known something), but i'm glad that that's a character i recognize... now if only i could reproduce it.
i have no idea how it is. but i'll take the water over wine any day. and there's no way (hehe)... there's no way i won't listen and try to see. and i'll dream a dream. even if i never know what it means. |
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| 7/06/2003 11:06:00 PM |
[ braking the cycle ]
curioser. well, i went, i swam, i was severely burned. and all without lassi. darn my memory! it wasn't all bad though. i swam really far. i swam until i couldn't touch the bottom. then i swam some more. the ocean looks so... interesting... when you're trying to touch the bottom, at least when it's cloudy. after swimming my guts out i just tread water for a while in a futile attempt to catch my breath. then the waves tell me- try it, risk it all, grab some of that silty solidity in your toes my friend. so i go for it. after a couple pulls dizziness starts to creep in around my eyes and my brain starts screaming obscenities. then right before some tiny switch flips and tells me, "although you share many characteristics with your gill-bearning ancestors... WTF are you doing!!!! you crazy fool! you can't die here!!!" yeah, right before that, i open my eyes and look up... at infinite shades of brown, darkening coldly at the edges, flashing frightfully at the center. that's when i forget all about not having touched the bottom. suddenly, everything i need is at the surface. in no uncertain terms, i realize that the bottom is always only semi-solid. and even if you can't touch the bottom. all the solidity you need is something to hold onto. |
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| 7/03/2003 12:48:00 AM |
[ competent cells and protein expressions ]
trapeze please. so tomorrow, the real tomorrow, fortojulie, i'm going to be car-jacked and blind-folded away to the beach... con mis amigos. i should get a car-full of fruit to go with all the fruitcakes. it's just not fortojulie without mangos. oh man! no supervision! i'm gonna drink sooo much mango lassi!!! *sigh* soon soon, ms moon. |
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| 7/01/2003 12:32:00 AM |
[ surfacants for those you can't surf ]
so i started smoking today... okay, maybe not. but something always happens which changes my way of thinking! ever so subtely, or just wonderfully. something extraordinary. something which opens my eyes. something that blows my hair back... i'm always getting my hair blown back. and it's all just the way that it is, in sorrow and joy, just the way that it is. |
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