faux cul

i keep thinking i will get the chance to catch up and make nanowrimo a happening thing...
but im coming to terms with the fact that it probably wont happen...

c'est la vie
dire tout et son contraire
parler a tort et a travers
peiger la girafe
poule mouilee

Nanosystemfailure

welp so much for that let's go do nano pep talk i gave myself...

haven't written anything in almost a week ive fallen way behind. i feel like I could possibly still catch up i have some time i just don't have the sanity to do so. i haven't able to relax my mind is too jumbled. i really wonder if there's something wrong with my head. ive always thought faster than i could speak or write which is why i have such attrotious handwriting and why nothing ever comes out of my mouth right but lately i feel like it's gotten worse. even the simplest things to answer leave me stumbling in indecision and confusion. 

i can feel the growing frustration of those around me and that which i hold with myself. it's expanding and boxing me into a corner that im not all that sure I can fight or write my way out of  what's even more frustrating is the complacency that's starting to settle in and cloud my fragile resolve...maybe it's lack of sleep or the cold im pretending not to have or life's little distractions catching up and swallowing my brain bit by bit or perhaps it's just part of getting older. any way it can stop all that junk. ain't nobody got time for that gotta get back on target if i can still find it...

Nanowhatmo?

so I signed up for nano this year.

that is national novel writing month in which one makes an attempt to write a complete a novel in 30 days..

what the hell?!

50,000 words?!

yep that's the minimum word count.

what the hell?!

12am nov 1 st- 1159pm nov 30?!

30 days down to the minute.

what the hell?!

im a sprinter not a long distance runner 

i mean a short story okay i can probably swing that...but a novel? 

what the hell?!

OH MY GOD I JUST COMITTED TO WRITING A NOVEL!!!!!

what the hell?!

i can't comitt to anything.

part of my libra nature.

 i posess an almost infantile

refusal to take a side or take stand...

the latter may speak more to my cowardice than my commitment.

did i grow out of getting angry enough to fight? at what point did my fists stop flying into action?

i think I must have been born with an abnormally small backbone or an over developed sense apathy.

(perhaps with an apettite for punishment as well?)

ive got a long history of

half hearted attempts 

last minute cancelations 

false starts 

"roundtoits"

and giving up...

all costly habits that need to be broken

will writing a novel help me be more decisive? committed? less cowardly?!

i have no idea.

but after 30 days and 50,000 words

maybe ill have an inkling?

may be.

the colors of black and white photography

im starting to think i should've named the blog nostalgia instead of catharsis or maybe tangent
since i always seem to be off on one...

familiar sights

when i was in high school i took a few photography classes, i loved them.
i loved the weight of the camera in my hands,
the sense of control i felt as i turned the lens to bring the world into focus.
don't get me wrong, i was never great at it, i was average at best, but i loved it.

i loved the teacher, she was like the caring and free spirited aunt i never had.




she gave me a glimpse of what other adults could be like
you didn't have to be stuffy and serious when you got older.
she was in her fifties, at least, and she had a youthful spirit for the adventure of life.

he totally ripped our idea and modernized it lol

looking back i think maybe, she was really the awkward crazy lady people made fun of.
with her quirky outfits, off the wall antics and lesson plans
 (i.e. dressing up as alex trebeck or her cowgirl cap)
but she didn't care. she was herself and she was wonderful!
she concocted this crazy camera costume idea for the homecoming parade
and talked me into wearing it. it was pretty awesome, wish i had pictures of it.
i danced at the parade and then the game and everything,
which was so completely out of character for me. no, i don't think you realize how true that statement is. im the kid who couldn't answer a question
in class with out falling to pieces. but i did it
and you know what? it was fun. i was stepping outside of my comfort zone and marching
to the beat of my own drum, just like my wonderful teacher..


but the part i think i loved the best was the dark room.
i loved the revolving door to the dark room, it screamed secret spy room to me!
it was great. it was my bat cave, dim, cool, and blissfully quiet.
the sound of the water running for the stop bath and rinses,
the hum of the enlarger, the way the air felt both cool and refreshing
as well as warm and inviting and of course the glow of the red light.
red in there wasnt anger, wasnt fear, it wasn't even the red of passion
it was a completely different shade of red.
red was peace, is that possible?


kinda like this, maybe?

there was hint of magic about the place, watching your photos appear on paper?
yeah that was definitely magic!
but there was something about the place that felt safe, like nothing bad could happen there.
i don't think i have a single memory of the place that wasn't good.
even  the pungent smell of the chemicals were comforting.
it was sanctuary.

i remember my mom asking me, when i was sophmore,
if i knew what i wanted to be when i grew up.
i told her with great conviction that i wanted to be a photographer.
she told me that's a hobby not a career. i was crushed. i didn't speak to her for a week.
she bought me a photography for dummies book as an "apology"
my mother is a bit facetious.

i hate to admit it but she was right of course, i am not a photographer.
i hung that hat up and pushed it to the back of the closet long ago.

nicer version of my camera

recently, i went thrift shopping with a friend
i wasn't looking for anything,
just window shopping really
and i found a steal a Minolta x300 for $4.99
perhaps I shouldn't have but,
i bought it on a whim, in rush of nostalgia
it's not exactly what we used in school, but it's very similar
(i think we used a Pentax k1000)
it came with a flash and mount and bag AND it works
or the camera does anyway,  i think the flash has bit the dust.
the camera is less than perfect, its a bit dirty, and the zoom lens is dented
it's missing the lens cap, but the battery works, so does the light meter, and the zoom,
it had film in it so i know the rewinder works, and i can get it to advance and shoot.
gonna take it to the camera store this weekend and get it checked out
my heads already plotting plans to revive my dark room days...
theres an old dark room in the basement at work its got an enlarger,
or course id have to buy chemicals an such...wonder if i could use it...or have it?... i digress

i happened to have the camera with me when i went by my mom's to drop off a pan i'd borrowed

so i showed it to her.
she thought it was great she sat there and played with it for an hour
and she told me a memory of my grandma that i'd never heard before.

i don't know if i've mentioned this before but my grandma was
one the most beautiful people the world has ever had the privilege to know.
im sure that's how most people feel about their grandmothers, of course...
appearance wise she was a beautiful lady but i don't mean that.
i mean the real, deep down truly amazing sense of the word beautiful.
i don't think there was anything that this woman could not do.
she could make the most wonderful somethings out of absolutely nothing.
i could go on and on about this woman, i wish i'd known her longer,
(she died the same year i told my mom i wash going to be a photographer)
been old enough to truly appreciate and know who she was,
but then again being an adult has a way of removing the soft warm tint
of all those rose colored childhood memories...
grandma's happen to be of the yellow rose variety
partially because they were her favorite but mostly because she was always
the warm afternoon sunshine on your shoulder..


the memory my mom shared, was of my grandma finding an old Brownie camera

similar to what grandma had

that someone had thrown in the dump.
with ten kids they were never rich, very far from it. this old beat up and broken camera, was quite the luxury item.
it was garbage someone tossed aside
without a second thought,.
the woman didn't know a thing about photography, she just saw something broken and thought, "hey, i could make something of this."  and she did. 
mom says they've still got some of the pictures she took on it. i'd love to see them

where was this memory when i wanted to be a photographer?

missing in action i suppose.

its not as though i was ever going become
a photographer, and its not something im particularly  bitter about.
i dont mean to sound that way, though i suspect i sound much more like a petulant child in my posts than i'd like to admit....

i just regret giving up something i loved
because of something someone told me.

don't do that shit kids.

if you love something. keep at it.
doesnt matter if you're good or not.
life's meant to be enjoyed.
enjoy it and all its colors.
for real.
do it.
now.

thrill that'll getcha when you get your picture on the cover of the rollin'stone

the rolling stone has been in the business of controversy since its inception  in november of 1967.
with writers like hunter s. thompson and caroline kennedy its musical roots have definitely transformed into a political soapbox, its been used as a platform to discuss controversial topics like sex drugs and rock and roll. the covers have pictured images of rock stars, politicians, presidents and even criminals.



in 1972dr. hook and the medicine show landed themselves on the cover with shel silversteins song "cover of the rolling stone."

john lenon and yoko ono made waves with their iconic cover in 1980.taken by annie leibovitz this photo was taken the same night john lenon died.

 in 1970, just three years into the magazines run, they gained national attention for their cover interview with none other than charles manson. their prison interview with manson won them an national magazine award.
their latest edition is not immune to controversy.
the august 1st edition of the rolling stone's cover has been plastered
all over the news and internet, you'd just about have to live under a rock at the bottom
of the mariana trench to have missed it. and it hasnt even been released yet.
the august edition features the picture of dzhokhar tsarnaev (probably didnt spell that correctly),
who is the man being held responsible for the boston marathon bombing.

the controversy is not necessarily that he is on the cover.
its the way he is being portrayed on the cover.
some critics have described his photo as a glamor shot.
this depiction of him is unsettling to the general public.
this man in the eyes of many is a monster.
and here he looks human, attractive even.
surely this is not the face of someone capable of that.
some one capable of that, they're dirty and hideous
and have sharp teeth and crazy eyes.
someone who would do that surely is long lost from humanity.
we want our monsters to look monstrous.
and he doesnt. he looks like any other young kid his age.
scruffy face, unruly hair, but clean and well taken care of.
he could be anyone's brooding college age son, brother, nephew, or grandson.
its easy to forget that he is.
its easy to forget the evil humans are capable of.
we are more frightening than the darkest nightmare king or lovecraft could conjure.

the magazine has already received a lion's share of backlash from the critics and families of the victims. and they have every right to their own opinions but the rolling stone isnt doing anything different. anything unpatriotic or cruel. their intention was to strike a cord with their audience and in that they have certainly succeeded.. they are using controversy as it is intended to be used.
to start a conversation. the subject of the bombing is one that hits home for many.
but if we were an honest nation we would admit, many but not all.
it takes the giant hands of controversy to reach down and shake us into reality.
in the world that we live in, we are numb.
tragedies happen so frequently we scarcely take the time to process them.
less and less the question is asked "what will i tell my children?"
we dont need to tell our children what has happend.
they already know. or they think they do.
they think its just another reality show
a  real life csi crime adventure.
this is the generation raised in the nursery of the veldt .
this is why we need controversy.
this is why we need the rolling stone.

out of brain experience

round peg square hole
what am i doing here?
this isnt my world
these arent my people
do i have people?
the cameras flash
feet stomp
and the band plays on
drinks are poured
and the people dance
some one yells some unintelligible
the night that wouldnt end
thinking somebody just shoot me
lone ranger lays his gun down on the table
and goes dancing with his squaw
the cameras flash
laughter
feet stomp
and the band plays on
drinks are poured
and the people dance
i glance at the handle of the pistol
it would be too easy to pick it up
the overwhelming urge to point it at my head and shoot
 frightens me...
it would be too easy.
something dangerous about simplicity.
the cameras flash
laughter
feet stomp
and the band plays  on
drinks are poured
and the people dance
dancing in circles around the tiny dance floor
dancing circles around me
dancing in circles in my head
do you  ever get dizzy?
the cameras flash
laughter
feet stomp
and the band plays  on
drinks are poured
and the people dance
what am i doing here?
is that candlebox?

a walk past speakers corner

one word exercise part deux
today's word : joyous


what a joyous occasion!
such a joy to witness a rare moment of time
history is actually moving in the right direction!      

slow progress is STILL progress.
tomorrow, tomorrow, and tomorrow
creeps in....
so much more work to be done
so much more progress to be made
but TODAY

Today we rejoice!













so 61 words in a minute thats 1.1 words per second
the human brain moves so fast or perhaps i just happened to have
a joyous subject on my heart and mind
so the words flowed quickly
either way i think i've accompished two things today

1. making myself write something
2. soapbox blog 

perhaps nero and sherman werent all that mad...

stumbled across a website that generates one word
oneword.com
and tells you not to think just to write
i took it a step further and game myself one minute to write
no thinking just writing.
i figured one  minute was a good time frame to start with
dont know if i could stop thinking for longer than that
maybe i could  i might make this a daily exercise just to retrain my brain
and increase the time every couple of days maybe build myself up to an hour?
its a thought....

my word was

"blamed"

why should i be blamed?
who's to blame?

what wrongs have been done that can not be righted again?

why is there so much wrong?

cant we just do something right?

just one something?

we're all to blame.
its our shame to carry.

just for a while why dont we lay our burden down

better yet lets gather together

throw all the blame into a giant flame
and let it burn
burn until theres nothing left

maybe we can start again
and maybe this time we wont have to play the same game

sidetracked

i really do need to get back into the habit of blogging
if for no other reason that clearing out the contents of my brain
the theater of the morning is getting quite packed
but you cant hear the play for the noise of the growing crowds

i've had a lot of projects for work that are pulling on the creative side of my brain
no complaints it makes the work day move a little faster but at the end of the day
i cant organize full sentences to write anything
well thats not entirely true.
i recently started a side project as a form of entertainment and
it has sucked me in and played its roll expertly as a distraction
after all it does star two of my favorite subjects
(http://cutefluffythings.blogspot.com/)

i've enjoyed my distraction.
afterall distractions are meant to me enjoyed
and i intend to keep enjoying it
but i do want to work on other things
whatever those might be...

recently finished reading stephen kings book

on writing

i've never been a big king reader, but he's one of those writers thats
so massively larger than life that they must be worthwhile
so i gave him a shot and have been on a king reading binge
i definitely recommend it if you've never read anything by him

in this book, he's supposed to be writing about writing, and he does.
but he also writes largely about life in general
i imagine this book was a cathartic experience for him to write
as it is to read

the thing he wrote that hit my nail squarely on the head
was  the attitude someone should have towards writing
he said:
 "...you must not come lightly to the blank page. im not asking you to come reverently or unquestioningly; im not asking you to be politically correct or cast aside your sense of humor
(please God you have one). this isnt a popularity contest, its not the moral olympics , and its not church. but it's writing, damn it, not washing the car or putting on eyeliner. if you can take it seriously
we can do business. if you cant or wont, its time for you to close the book and do something else.
wash the car, maybe."

 as i neither wear eyeliner nor typically wash my car
i'd say its a safe bet that i need to get serious about writing if im gonna write.
all us creative types need to be bossed around from time to time
or else we'd never get anything done.

one kids trash is a bigger kids tirade

so i'm never sure what direction this blog is gonna go but

as a good friend pointed out i do need to keep my audience entertained

today on my drive to work i was tossing around ideas in my head 

and of course thats always a slippery slope that generally leads everywhere

and ultimately nowhere

such was the case upon my arrival at work

but as i was packing up to head to my next location for the day

a tiny scrap of paper caught my eye

just a little square folded in fours

one side was lined and the top said:

"write a story about someone who takes care of the enviroment."

i turned it over at the opposite side, in pink child-like handwriting read:

"porkypine or a snake"

it made me chuckle

i picked it up and put it in my pocket and promptly forgot it

until i emptied my pockets for the day

and obviously i pick the "porkypine" because snakes are just douches

though i must admit that i had to do a little research  

to find out what sort of contributions they've made to the enviroment

the snake, it pains me deeply to admit, is actually very essential to the enviroment

and maintaining the balance of the ecosystems and what not....

the old "porkypine" 

(how apt the child spelled it this way

as the word porcupine actually comes from

the middle french word porc espin or spined pig)

well they havent exactly been the best caretakers of the environment

turns out they've actually been detrimental to the southeast asian populations

when used as a primary food source that is..

until recently their primary contributions have been as arts and crafts suppliers

their quills being used in headdresses and other decorative accessories

but i suppose in a family of artists when a kiddo wants to rebellious 

they go out and join the medical field

and thats sort of what these guys have done

in recent years their quills have inspired

a new type of hypodermic needle

specifically the backward-facing barbs on the quills

when used as needles they do two things

penetrate the skin and stay in place

which of course is  quite useful for doing important things like 

drawing blood

and thus creating synthetic vampires

without all the melodramatic im-afraid-of-garlic-heil-transylvania stuff

sorry guys guess you're gonna be in the unemployment line...

wait a minute! 

did porcupines just make vampires defunct??? 

sam and dean couldnt even do that...

hi-five "porkypines"!!

er...well maybe just an air high-five...

alright so this has ended up as more of a rant

and less of a story...

maybe i'll fold the slip back up and put it in my wallet

and revisit it later

or maybe i'll leave it somewhere

for some other like minded scribbler to find

maybe i should take it back 

poor kid probably got in trouble for not doing their homework...

dear kid who writes in pink ink,

sorry you lost your homework and i kept it.

stay away from drugs and stuff

-rah

p.s. your teacher probably hates it when you write in pink

stick to basic black, its classy 

May the 4th be with you!

yeah so  a-z....i totally just did that....

some letters were easier than others

i apologize for the resulting dribble

ended up with a lot more fears than sorrows

some posts were more wimpy than others

and i wouldnt say i was happy with them all

i was kind of starting to feel a bit redundant 

but i made it through.

glad i did it.

forced me to write and stuff

 woot!

i dont know if i could keep up the daily posts

but i would like to get myself on a regular blogging schedule

so something to think about....hmmmm

in other news:

IN CASE  YOU'RE LIVING UNDER A ROCK TOMORROWS FREE COMIC BOOK DAY!!!

Zielchmerz-the exhilarating dread of finally pursuing a lifelong dream which requires you to put your true abilities out there to be tested

procrastination is my forte

i can drag out planning and preparation for an event for days on end

over analyze every little detail even when i know its as good as its going to get

the best it can possibly be

i have the ability to find something that needs redoing before i start

i have an endless list of excuses at my disposal 

and im good at it  i mean REALLY good

because secretly im terrified to begin

the inevitability of commencing looms over my head like a dark cloud

i know i can only delay it for so long

a myriad of failure painted pictures scrolls through my mind

and echoes in my eardrums

the amplified sound of my own heartbeat

my face turns a deep scarlet 

as my voice raises a few octaves and begins to quiver

my hands start to shake 

and then
then i try something new
step outside of my comfort zone
and i am better for it

Ymophobia-fear of contraiety

why is it that humans feel the perpetual need to be right?

always?

even when we know we're wrong

we will go down with a sinking ship or burning house

before we'll even consider admitting there was a spark or a leak...

does admitting you're wrong from time to time

decrease our alpha ranking in the hierarchy of species?

 probably not.

but it sure is infuriating

and embarrassing

and if theres one thing that our species cant abide

its our own embarrassment

there have been times when i've been in an argument with someone

and halfway through the argument i realize that im wrong

but by this point i've already committed to the argument

and generally made an ass out myself 

and i cant back out and admit it

so i just keep digging myself deeper

such prideful beings are we

  “All men make mistakes, but a good man yields when he knows his course is wrong, and repairs the evil. The only crime is pride.”
― Sophocles, Antigone

Xeno- the smallest measurement of human connection, typically an exchange with passing strangers but also experienced with aquaintances, fleeting and random but still containing powerful nutrients that can alleviate the symptoms of feeling lonely

i do a lot  of traveling for work

i generally  get along with people i work with

i mean you kind have to on the road, right?

in all honesty they really get on my nerves

but id never say 

theres one guy who i swear never stops talking

from the moment we get into the car 

till long, long, long after

im lucky to manage the occasional 

"uh-huh"

the second i close my hotel room

is the first breath of peace i get for the day

its exhausting

the whole pretending to care thing

i dont mean that in a condescending way

well maybe i do a little bit

its just that the things this guy talks about 

you an only feign polite interest for so long

and the poor fellow means well 

he's just got this habits of repeating himself

and carrying on in technical jargon 

i've heard about his medical history more than id care to

 his joke reel is really short and plays on loop

regardless of the response he receives

 to put it mildly he's very opinionated

his taste in music leaves something to be desired

and so does his hygiene after a few days on the road :(

but i've got to admit after spending the evening on my own

listening to the thoughts in my head

it is refreshing to hear another human voice

not exactly my first choice when it comes to voices 

or conversations 

or smells

but i suppose the company is reassuring in a way

Waldosia-condition caharacterized by scanning faces in the crowd looking for a specific person who would have no reason to be there, your brains way of checking to see if they're still in your life

 

 when you miss someone, do you ever feel like you see them everywhere?

even when you know that they're a million miles away from where you are

you convince yourself that you saw them or someone that looks just like them

you point it out to whoever you're with at the time and of course the person 

disagrees with you because in reality they look nothing alike

you just want to see them so your mind believes it can

it picks out little vague things and clings to them

like the same color of hair or similar body build

things that could belong to anyone

but to you its the one you miss

its a cruel trick at times

c'est la vie

Venustraphobia-fear of beautiful women

i had alot of note scraps on this phobia yesterday but i didnt get around to actually writing anything
my assumptions on those suffering from this phobia were that they were generally
people whom felt inferior or unworthy of beauty
the whole wanting what you cant have
realizing you cant have it and denouncing it thing that people do
 or those who were insecure about themselves
and therefore feel benevolence towards people they perceive to be superior to them
doing a little research i found that to be fairly accurate
theres apparently a trend in youtube videos right now
where people talk about their fears and mental disorders
i kind of got zapped into it and watched several different ones
and even found one on venustraphobia
its kind of interesting to hear about the phobia from a person who experiences it
some of the videos are very personal and candid
i would consider myself to be a fairly private person
so its mind blowing to me just how much personal information people put out there
i think some people use the platform as a way of getting things off their chests
theres more than a couple of mixed up kids reaching out for attention
and then theres a few people who are farther along their journey through their fears
and are speaking about their experiences and what they've learned
to tell others that even though the road is hard it is not hopeless
who knows what those heartfelt words can mean to someone
i hope they hit their mark.

Urophobia-fear of urine or urinating.

a healthy adult on average urinates about 4 to 7 times a day

its such a normal part of our lives most people dont think about it twice.

some kids have trouble potty training because they're frightened of something new

or because their older siblings have told them horror stories about alligators and other monsters

that lurk in the sewers waiting to come and gobble them up... 

but most people grow out of that.

our body has alot of pre-programmed responses to fear

quickened pulse, sweating, crying, goosebumps
 throwing up, fainting, freezing, blushing,

nervous laughter and of course there is the origins for phrases like

"i literally peed my pants i was so scared"

as adults we tend to grow out of our childhood fears 

and approach our fears in calm rational ways

you know, like avoiding them

very seldom do we encounter things that truly strike fear into our hearts

and lets be honest with ourselves most people are too desensitized

to even bat an eyelash at things that would've mortified our 3 year old selves

its nothing for us to turn on the news and see some sort of violence

im sure none of you even flinch when an actor is shot or a car explodes on a tv drama

in fact its kind of expected, an action movie is not an action movie without 

some sort of shoot-out scene or half a dozen explosions 

the bigger the better

it takes looking a real life tragedy in the face for modern day humanity to 

even feel the smallest glimmer of fear

think about it.

not to be insensitive but,

were you really afraid when you first heard about the boston bombing

or was it after you saw the faces of the victims that those physiological responses kicked in

did seeing their faces make it more real to you? 

 did you imagine what it would be like if that was your family?

was it then that you found your seat a little damp?

if you take away the media attention to the tragedy

and all you knew is that there was a bombing attack in boston that left three dead

would it still affect you in the same way?

i  mean 3 victims, that doesnt sound all that bad right?

thats even two less victims than the famous boston massacre in 1770

after all the horror that mankind has shown its capable of 

holocaust, genocide, war, hate,  murder, rape,

looking back at that event many would say it wasnt much

their faces unknown, their names i myself had to look up

Samuel Gray, Samuel Maverick, James Caldwell, Crispus Attucks, and Patrick Carr

but history books still write about it because it was horrific

five lives were lost, it was a completely unprecedented event in history

  something to be remembered to warn future generations of

do not repeat our mistakes

"those who cannont remember the past are condemed to repeat it."

-George Santayana

"i've got news for mr. santayana, we're doomed to repeat the past no matter what. 

thats what it is to be alive."

-Kurt Vonnegut

Trumspringa-the temptation to step off your career track and become a shepherd in the mountains, a hypnotic diversion that allows your thoughts to make a break for it and then wander back harmlessly to your cubicle.

i dont care how hard of a worker you think you are

you're still a human being...

well that is assuming you havent been replaced by a robotic drone

the possibility is more realistic than you think 

and if that were the case then you probably wouldnt be reading this blog

because robotic drones dont have thoughts or feelings

and information about theses attributes does not compute

allow me to digress

even the most diligent of workers, at some point in their busy week 

find themselves in the need of a trumspringa.

maybe not necessarily the whole shepherd in the mountains bit

but something equally innocuous 

a completely different life than what you lead

a more simplistic one

something that relinquishes you from all those responsibilities

and allows you for a moment in time to feel weightless and worry free

something to give you a the boost you need to make it through the week

its a day dream of sorts

just a little mini-mental vacation

and its nice while it lasts

Slipcast-the default expression that your face automatically reverts to when idle

im in the habit of people watching

almost to the point of creepiness

not that i do it to be creepy or stalker-like 

as my significant other often accuses.. 

im just curious i cant help it.

when im driving down the road 

i cant help but look into the cars that pass me by

i try to avoid staring but i often do it without realizing

different facial structures and expressions fascinate me

i love looking at the little quirks that make a persons face unique

their deep dimples, cleft chins, birthmarks, scars and freckles...

when i was in school i had a multitude of faces to study

i probably couldnt remember some of those peoples names 

if my life depended on it but i remember their faces 

their happy face, their im up to something face, 

their i am so about to be grounded for life face

and their everyday slipcast

some of them were very content 

as though they couldnt help but smile

no doubt bitten by some puppy love bug

some of them always looked slightly worried

as though they were always trying to work through 

some nightmare of an algebraic equation

many of them wore the faces of perpetual boredom

shuffling along in their zombie like state

some of them looked like wounded animals 

skittish of all who pass them by just awaiting the next attack

i've been told my own varies between wanderlust

and what i can only describe as the way

you squench up your face when you have a headache.

guess it depends on the day.

people often worry over they way they look in the morning

spend gross amounts of time primping and preparing themselves in the mirror

you worry about how you're going to look when you meet someone for the first time

over analyzing everything from the cowlick in your hair to the scuffs on your shoe

but when you think you're alone, or when your thoughts take you away

the way you look to the outside world is the farthest from your mind

as it should be.

but thats what makes the joy of people watching so fascinating

because when people let go of that worry, a tiny glimmer of their true selves show through 

Rollover Reaction- when your dreams about somone you know skews how you feel about them all the next day.

ever find yourself in trouble with you're significant other
for something you  didnt do?
apparently you committed an unforgivable
transgression in their dream
that you are completely unaware of
but must now suffer the consequences.

you find yourself in a hopeless situation
unable to redeem yourself in any way shape or form.

and the most agonizing part of the whole fiasco?

you will never ever know what you supposedly did or didnt do in their dream
because they're either too pissed or put off about it to even talk.
go ahead and pile on the silent treatment.
the perfect icing on the cake.

damned if you do, damned if you dont.

Quadraphobia-fear of quartets or being drawn and quartered.

oh what a queer dream!!
i was being drawn and quartered by a quartet
for failing to stop and listen as they played, so it would seem.
they took themselves quite seriously, but none so much as the fellow with the cornet!

Panophobia-fear of everything

and father time said unto the quivering boy:
"what are you afraid of child?"

replies the child:
"my father i fear all manners of evil, 
the multitudes of monsters, 
the corruptness of man,
i fear those who have been long gone yet still linger,
the furry spiders with their sharp bite,
the hissing serpent at your feet,
the towering heights of the heavens,
the endless depths of the darkness
that engulf me as night falls,
and all that i can not see or know."




"my child is there anything you do not fear?"

"no my father."

Ouranophobia-fear of the heavens

throughout theology and mythology
heaven is usually defined as a sacred place or state of being,
often the dwelling of the god or gods,
a reward for people who lived their lives virtuously
its usually depicted as a paradise of sorts
located above or beyond the limits of the ordinary world
ruled over by a deity floating on clouds

in dantes divine comedy he journeys through the 9 rings of hell,
purgatory, and heaven ending up in a garden of eden like place

in modern christianity heaven is where upon their
deaths dutiful and pious christians
spend their afterlifes in bliss awaiting the rapture
the final resurrection of christ
and the end of this world

in norse mythology heaven is called vahalla or hall of the dead
here those who have fallen valiantly in combat are rewarded
as they await ragnarok
a time when they will rise up and join forces with the gods to defeat all evil

in hinduism and buddhism the equivalent of heaven is nirvana
a state of profound peace of mind free from suffering
in hindu philosophy nirvana is a union with the brahman
for buddists the word nirvana is literally translated as "blown-out"
when a person reaches nirvana they have reached
absolute enlightenment and no longer need to exist


in most cases heaven appears to be a very blissful place
but i suppose its also an end and perhaps thats what people find fearful

of course fear of the heavens could refer to fear those who rule the heavens
zeus with his lightning bolt sitting smug high on mt olympus
and then of course theres the army of archangels to carry out gods wrath
armed with spears and flaming swords
sure to strike fear in the hearts of all who behold them

when children are misbehaving people often say
"someone needs to put the fear of god in them"
fear of the heavens could very well be the fear of god

and it's been said that religion was designed
as a way of controlling the masses
so fear of the heavens could also refer to the fear of religion
or more accurately the fear of being controlled
the power of fear in our lives is quite amazing.


"love is what we were born with. fear is what we learned here."
                 -marianne williamson

Nementia-the post distraction effort to recall the reason why you're feeling particulary anxious or angry or excited

im not really big on holding grudges,
im actually quite terrible at it.
i tend to forget all about being mad at someone
and most of the time they've got no idea i was ever cross with them.
i should mention im probably not the best at communication either...

 or as a very good friend of mine once said
" you dont tell people what you really think
until its too late or you are already too pissed
to talk about it. you're too complacent with
things that are important."

probably the truest statements anyone has ever made about me
and this friend of mine made those when we were only 17
several years later they still ring true.

part of its my very libra tendencies to avoid
confrontation and maintain the status quo
part of its the way i grew up,
the school of "sit down you're rocking the boat"

and part of its just my ADD
 
i can go to bed angry, then wake up and think
"i was angry about something but i dont know what,
 guess it wasnt that important"

its hardly ever that important
and everyone gets so worked up about it.
i've never really got it.

when it is actually really important people tend to
tip toe around things or avoid them all together.

rather counterproductive dont ya think?

luckily though, there exists a few magical moments where humanity
decides to speak its mind and the whole world listens.

http://listverse.com/2008/06/01/top-10-great-historic-speeches/

thats when we learn, thats when we grow.

Mahpiohanzia-the disappointment of being unable to fly.

this is one disappointment
that i personally have still
not gotten over. (see about me)
im not sure if i ever will.
im certain that i was meant to fly.
but all the faith hope and pixie dust
has yet to work.
so i keep dreaming.
after all whats so bad about that?

Lalalalia-the realization while talking to yourself that someone else is within earshot, which leads you to crossfade into mumbled singing

just a typical saturday morning


okay im gonna do this
im gonna walk all the way to the gym
and when i get there im going to open that door
and when i open that door--

"I SEE A RED DOOR AND I WANT IT PAINTED BLACK!!"

how many freaking kids do they have??
i cant stand all those kids
they need to shut the hell up!!
wheres there mama at??--

"MAMA SAID KNOCK YOU OUT!"

Kenopsia-the eerie forlorn atmosphere of a place thats usually bustling with people but now is abandoned and quiet

it's there in the emptiness of  a theater
long before the audience arrives
there is an energy pulsing through the emptiness
an energy that lingers long after it's gone
and waits to be reawakened
the performers just beginning to gather
their voices as they enter quickly falling
in reverence of the silence.
it doesnt last, it never does.


ever miss the bus home while you were in school?
did you walk back in to try to phone your parents and suddenly became aware of the silence?
no slamming of lockers, shouts, or trills of laughter,
gone too, is the constant hum of chatter and shuffling footsteps.
just the quiet.
did you feel uneasy?
get a since of foreboding as though you shouldnt be there?

ever driven past your morning commute late late at night
and been amazed at how quickly you drove through?
not another soul on the road, no honking,
or radios blaring except perhaps your own.
would you reach over and turn it off just to listen?
or would the sound of your tires on the pavement  make you too anxious?

ever go for a run through the neighborhood before the stars made it to bed?
did the echo of your footsteps sound like loud claps of thunder?
the  sound of your heartbeat like distant drums
the awareness of their sound somehow makes you fearful.
of what?

we're  taught to fear the silence.
it is in all the scenes in movies and books where the young girl goes down dark alleyways
or walks into a seemingly abandoned building, calling out into the silence
"hello? is there anybody there? hello?"
only to be answered with her untimely death by the hands of  whatever man or beast awaits her.

chances are that when you're alone you've got
some sort of sound playing in the background
find yourself calling people for no reason,
the radio or tv that you're not really watching 
just comforted by the company of sound.

what we're really afraid of is being alone.

Japanophobia-fear of the Japanese/Judeophobia-fear of Jews

homophobia
xenophobia
these are not fears.
they are prejudices.
lets get that straight from the start.
the use of the word fear as a crutch to hide your hate
is beyond sickening.
i refuse to believe that a real fear exists in any
individual that claims these "phobias"
disgraceful.
perhaps there's a general feeling of discomfort
around these individuals because of the guilt
we feel as a human race for treating people
in such a horrific manner.
good.
it's not supposed to be comfortable.
if it is then we might need to redefine
what qualifies as humanity, starting with your exclusion.
the guilt isnt mean to weigh you down to your darkest depths.
it's there to be a nagging splinter in your hand, so that you cant forget.
you must always remember.
the past can not be changed.
what has happened, has happened.
now we as a human race must live with ourselves.
and remember our mistakes, so that they will not be repeated.

Ideophobia- fear of ideas

what is an idea really?

its a thought, a concept, or mental impression,
a suggestion to a possible course of action.

it is not corporeal or material
its not really anything
just a thought.

so why the fear?
perhaps it is merely fear of the unknown?

the power of an idea is infinite.


imagination is probably the singular most
important thing that we as humans possess

it allows us to see and
explore the universe.
to create and build
invent and innovate 
to entertain and explain
to grow and to thrive.

without it where would we be?

letting blood for the common cold?
writing with ink and feather quills,
still pushing carts with horses,
cavemen in the dark
or dust??????

this fear is what prevents society from being all that we can.

fear of anything that is not like us,
different oppinons, thoughts or feelings than our own.
subliminal messaging teaching our youth that different is wrong.
conform or be outcast.

why?

"i wish that we could open our eyes to see in all directions at the same time"
-dcfc, marching bands of manhattan

maybe if we could all see everything all at once,
see the other side of the stories,
where people come from,
what they want in life,
if we could feel how they feel
if they could see what we see,
feel what we feel
then maybe we would finally understand
then maybe the human race stands a chance at not destroying one another.

just an idea.

Heartworm-a realtionship or friendship that you can't get out of your head, you thought it had faded long ago, but it's still somehow alive and unfinished.

everyone has that someone,
that you just cant seem to forget.
no matter the distance you try to put between yourselves.
all the miles and miles you run.
all the time in the world doesnt seem to help.
even if you havent seen them in years and years.
even if you know too much has happened.
that you cant go back to where you were.
even though you know in the pit of your stomach
that you arent right for each other.
that moving forward is in your best interest.
you get up every single day and tell yourself
that today you wont think of them.
their name wont cross your mind,
you will not miss them.
all the lies we tell ourselves.
distractions are futile.
you've tried to move on before
but you're heart wasnt in it
and you've left heartache in your wake.
now you're afraid to try.

so you carry with you always
the heaviness in your chest.

loves thorns.
it won't be the last.
though you will never forget
this too shall pass.

helminthophobia -fear of being infested with worms.

Gnossienne-moment of awareness that someone you've known for years still has a private and mysterious inner life that will remain maddeningly unknowable to you and you have no way of knowing exactly where you stand.

i'd like to think that i know most of  the people in my life fairly well. 
i know what they like,
what they dont,
what buttons to push
how far i can push them,
how far they'll push back.
i know how they behave in relationships,
when they tell me about a new affection
i can tell whether or not they're serious.
i know their types
i've seen them head over hills
and i've seen them hurt.
i can almost always tell
when somethings bothering them.
over the years ive built up
an arsenal of jokes sure to
cue their laughter.
i know all their stories,
their dreams
hopes
and ambitions.
i've seen what they're capable of.
and let me tell you i've been extremely fortunate
to have some of the most amazing people
swim through my life.
they comfort me,
make me laugh,
encourage me
and boss me around when i need it.
i know these people as well as anyone can
and they know me.
and they are love.


and then there's you.

Fitzcarraldo-an image that somehow becomes lodged in your brain and grows into a wild and impractical vision that keeps scrambling back and forth in your head waiting for a chance to leap into reality.

always always
always always
all the time!

never ending
thoughts of mine.

where do they come from?
where do they go?

hell if i know.

Eisoptrophobia-fear of mirrors or seeing ones self in a mirror.

there are millions of childhood fears people eventually grow out of
fear of the dark, monsters hiding under your bed, getting into trouble...
then there are those fears that find deep roots in our childhoods and grow strong.

that is the case with this fear.
its one that im seldom likely to admit
because when i say it aloud it seems
well, childish.

for me this all goes back to the bloody mary game.
im sure everyone's played the game at some point in their lives
or at least is familiar with some version of  it.

some versions say her origins came in 1892
about 4 years after the jack the ripper killing spree ended
mary conolly a well known alcoholic and prostitute
was brutally murdered by one of her clients
her throat was slit ear to ear and she was left to bleed to  death
her murder confessed and was justly hanged
but according to legend she was troubled in death just as she was in life
and still seeks vengeance for her troubles
those who call her spirit are doomed to meet the same fate by her hands

but legends of "bloody mary" existed at least 3 centuries before

queen mary I "bloody mary" upon her ascension to the throne
made it her life's goal to return the church of england to roman cathloicism
she carried this out through lethal force.
she had over 280 religious dissenters burned at the stake
at least 100 of which were protestant leaders.
it's said that the rage she unleashed on them
is rooted from her anguish of being unable to bare a child.
she suffered several miscarriages
and ultimately died from ovarian cancer at the age of 42.

queen mary I is also believed to be the origins for the
nursery rhyme mary mary quite contrary
with the line "how does your garden grow?"
referring to her lack of heirs.

the game calls her spirit by her name three times
taunting it with things like "i've got your baby"
she is said to appear in the mirror in a distorted form
full of rage and the ability to continue her bloody reign
starting with your death.

i was probably around the 7 years old, i couldnt have been older than 8
when a group of kids at my daycare convinced me to play the game with them
i had goosebumps before we even started
all of us piled into that tiny bathroom
my heart raced as they called her name
it was pitch black in there you could scarcely see your hand in front of your face
they ran screaming and laughing from the bathroom upon the 3rd time
promptly locking and barricading me in there alone.
the power of imagination is quite strong, i dont believe i actually saw anything.
the story alone was beyond frightening
i truly believed that mary was coming to get me.
i screamed and pounded on the door for an unknowable stretch of time
before one of the workers finally came along and let me out
never mind the group of kids who locked and barricaded me in there
i was harshly scolded and punished
for yelling and not using my inside voice.
i didnt tell my mother for fear i'd be in trouble for getting in trouble.

till this day the fear of mary prevents me from
walking into rooms with mirrors while the lights are off.

and as such i dont spend much time looking in a mirror
just a quick glance to make sure my  hairs laying flat enough
or to see if i have any food stuck in my teeth.

rather silly, i suppose. 
kid stuff ya know?

Daguereologue-an imaginary interview with an old photo of yourself, a figure frozen in time, who spends their days wondering where you are and what you're doing now.

just imagine.
h.g. wells would be proud.
modern science has invented the technology
to allow you to revisit any point in your life.
provided there's a picture of it, that is.
for a nice lofty sum, you can gain access to one of the new scanners.
simply scan your photo, and it produces a digital copy.
then you plug the digital copy into your computer
and now you have to ability to talk to yourself as you once were.



not exactly what you were expecting?
well progress doesn't always come in leaps and bounds
sometimes baby steps are better for the whole of mankind
i mean imagine an actual time machine hitting the commercial market
it would be absolute bedlam!
megalomania would run rampant through the masses.
forget about the butterfly effect.
we'd wipe out all of existence in the short span of a week.
and that's being optimistic.

this modest technology only expands a bit on the moments already suspended in time.
it doesn't allow you to alter the course of history.
or see things that you havent seen.
it's not about the next bold adventure.
it's just a new way to relive old memories.
if there's anything more marketable that money, sex, and power.
it would be nostalgia.
especially in a society where the people are living longer and longer.
the  majority of people over the age of 60 tend to be a bit dissatisfied with their quality of life.
unable to do the things that they once could and find themselves longing for their misspent youths.
is there anything they would've changed?
maybe so or maybe not.
ultimately they tend to look at those long gone days through rose colored glasses.
seeing things more how they would've liked them to be and less as they were.

given the opportunity to relive those days they'd happily empty their pockets.
but would they be satisfied customers?
would the conversations they'd be able to have with themselves make them happy?
or would the realization of reality be too much?



the old man who tells his great-grandchildren the story of his football championship glory
whose handsome youth sheepishly admits he sat on the bench his whole career.








the vain woman who swears upon a stack of bibles
that her beauty is all natu-ral
her photograph ticks of a list of cosmetic surgeries
 she's had thus far in life.









the lonely widower looking forward to hearing
his wives voice once more
only to hear that she'd been sleeping with another man since their wedding night.

heart-wrenching and life changing.
the backlash would be outrageous.                             


the industry would go under overnight.

people dont want the truth.
they're quite content with their lies.

one baby step forward and five giant leaps back.

Contact-high-five- an innocuous touch by someone just doing their job, that you enjoy more than you'd like to admit.

"It's the sense of touch.
In any real city you walk, you know?
You brush past people, people bump into you.
In LA nobody touches you.
We're always behind this metal and glass.
I think we crash into each other just so we can feel something."
                                                -CRASH, 2004







think of the reassuring nurse who pats you on the arm
and tells you not to worry that the shot will be over before you know it.
in that same instance they swiftly poke you with the needle.
you hardly felt it wincing only for a fraction of a second and its gone.
now remove that tiny little arm pat
and delete those simple words of  kindness.
what you've got left is a silent person in a white coat
waiting to poke you with a needle.
--because that's not creepy at all.


i think the words mean just as much if not more than the touch.
take away  the touch and leave the words in the above scenario
and the creepy factor isn't present, take away the words
and leave the touch and it's could be taken different ways.

the desire present in us is not necessarily a physical one, it's emotional.
what we crave is a connection.
an echo of what we put out into the universe.
something that reassures or encourages us.


words hold infinite power.
they can build you up and break you down all within
 the whispers of the most insignificant syllables.

the simplest "hello" or "thank you"

the smallest silence.

all are potential life changing moments in someones timeline.

the only problem is that
everyone has their own interpretation of signals
and a lot gets lost in translation.

Backmasking-instinctive tendency to see someone as you knew them in their youth

our family still participates in the antiquated tradition of decorating graves.
i say antiquated because every time i've mentioned it to someone
i receive a bewildered slightly creeped out look
none of them seem to know what im talking about.
we're a little old fashioned i suppose.
but for me its always been the norm.
some of my earliest memories are of us walking through the graveyards
my parents reading out the names on the stones and saying this is your
grandfather and grandmother, that is your great-great grandparents,
your cousin, your uncle, your baby aunt...
its an annual thing. typically falling around the time of memorial day.
the graveyards in which our loved ones are buried in have what they call decoration.
im told its short for decoration day, which is the former name for memorial day.
traditionally the day was meant as a time to honor fallen soldiers
by decorating their graves with flowers, flags and such.
but decoration honors all who have gone before us.
there are two primary graveyards that we visit.
one for my fathers side of the family and one for my mothers.
not all of our family members are buried in theses places but most of them are.
about a month before the day we start collecting artificial flowers 
alot of thought and time is spent building our collection
make sure we have enough boy flowers
lets get something fun like a pinwheel for the kids
and dont forget the yellow ones! grandma sure did love her yellow roses."

the event is usually followed by a BIG family barbeque
at my aunt and uncles house in the country.
so many relatives! so many hellos and hugs and a great sea of folding chairs
"do i really know all of these people?"
their "summer house" is located about half-way between the two cemeteries
and within walking distance of the creek where i learned to swim.
where my brother and i spent our summer hours chasing crawdads
and building moats around my aunts feet.
at night the grown-ups would sit in the soft glow of the porch light
talking, drinking coffee eating my aunts sugar-cinnamon pound cake.
i can still hear their sounds,
the symphony of crickets and frogs
the cidicas (katie-dids as they called them)
the distant train whistling in the wind
if my uncle's brother came over there was sure to be music 
the soft melodic rumble of my uncles' voices
guitars and mandolins picked
cousin eddie would play the saxophone if you asked him just right.
sometimes there were tears but mostly there was laughter.
and my aunts trademark laughter once it started it took forever to wind down!
they'd tell the same stories over and over
every once and a great while they'd recall another one to add to the playlist
always about their youth and our deceased relatives
remembering the good ole' days.
the whole atmosphere just made you feel so connected almost as though
everyone you were related to was there with you that you were all one.
i slept well on those nights.
in recent years work and other obligations have kept me from attending decoration.
the last year i went was shortly after my aunt died.
the family was still there.
we still walked the rows of graves.
when we reached hers, my father cried.
an event that i can count the number of times
i've witnessed in my life on one hand.
he said something that struck me as odd at the time
but is much more crystal now.
he said

"i wish i hadnt seen her at the funeral, she didnt look like that"

to him she never looked a day older that 17
even though she was well into her 70s when she passed.
to my father she had been and will always be
his ever doting, beautiful, zealous, big sister full of life and love.