Tag Archives: old

Borrowed

It’s really interesting the cultural shift towards lending out what you don’t use for others. You can rent someone’s house for the weekend, have someone give you a lift in their car, use someone’s place as storage… it’s interesting people are becoming more conscious of maximizing their resources (not being wasteful… is that what sustainability means?), and in the proper American way of “how can I make money off this?” It’s like in cultures where it’s common to have big, close families all the sharing happens within the little ‘tribe,’ but here we seem to not have that, and instead pay for the same service and favors. It’s Iike paying a fee to have that communal feeling of generosity–because it is not expected of us.

Advertisements
Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Reality Check

Bessy’s the best pet cow ever!
No, she’s not a pet…

Look! Goldie’s sleeping upside-down.
No, Goldie’s not sleeping.

She said I looked good.
No, she was just being nice.

Everyone laughed at my joke.
No, they were just laughing at you in general.

If I just had enough money.
No, if you just loved yourself first.

She’s the most beautiful girl ever.
No, you’re just drunk.

I want to be famous.
No, you’re just lonely.

I think she loves me.
No, she just said Hi.

I think I love her.
I think you’re crazy.

 

Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

“It’s better to start slow and finish fast than to launch out of the gate and crawl across the finish line.”

Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Why is it that I see something happening, like, I see where that path is heading, yet I do nothing to change it.

I don’t know… like, I honestly have no idea what you’re talking about.

Like, I’ll be doing something, let’s just say I’m talking to the girl of my dreams–

Hypothetically?

…Sure, yeah.

Really?

Okay, no. But I’m talking to her, and then a moment arises for me to make a joke that would compliment her and make her laugh and blush, but I don’t, because I’m shy. Instead I just smile and look down.

Sounds like you’re just shy.

But I know exactly what I want, and how to get it, but for some reason I don’t go for it. Something’s holding me. It’s like I’m detached from myself where the young, dumb version of me is making all the mistakes, and the older, wiser version of me just watches and says “I told you so.” It’s like the wise version of me is always gone when I’m caught up in a crucial moment. Why can’t he just step in and make me make the right decisions?

…Oh.

What?

I think that’s what fate is.

Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Okay, so Just lie there. yeah. sprawl out like that.

But I’m hungry.

Uh, here. Have these grapes, and just tilt your head back and slowly dip them into your mouth.

Why can’t I eat them normally?

Because this is art. We have to capture the essence of what it means to eat grapes.

Can’t you just hang some grapes up and then paint me in later. My arm’s getting tired and I’m going to have a sore neck in the morning.

It is essential that you hold them… for the uniformity of the piece.

I still don’t get why I have to be naked. I’m getting cold.

You’re not naked, you’re expressing the vulnerability of mankind.

Then why can’t you just get a naked man?

No! I mean–it wouldn’t be the same. For this particular work of art I need a young female in full bloom; otherwise it won’t work.

You haven’t even set up the canvass yet.

I’m getting there! I told you, I need to visualize. You know… art. Just, just eat the grapes and let me work — slowly.

Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

“When you’re young, you forget that every old person used to be young; but when you get old, you somehow remember.”

Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Age

What is age, but a number? Just something someone tells you to keep track of? If nobody told you your age, you’d have no idea how old you are. Age is hearsay. Age is a number, not an excuse, in just the same way that “I’m busy” is a valid excuse for being lazy. Age is not a competition. Aging is like managing your weight while on vacation; some do it better than others. Some obsess about it, some forget about it, and some don’t notice it until there’s no going back. Age is a number that can only be counted up, not counted down. You can act your age, or act someone else’s age. Age is a state of mind. Age is a reason to celebrate. Age is a reason to never wait. Age is something we share, can relate, and learn to live with day by day.

Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

News

The very word “news” has lost it’s meaning for me. It seems we hear about the same sort of things in the news every day that we become desensitized to them. Desensitized to something intrinsically “new?” That doesn’t make sense. Of course it doesn’t. The news may technically be ‘new,’ but it’s the same old things every day.

Sometimes you look at the news and think, “can’t they make it happier?” like some guy in a room is writing things down, which in some twisted cosmic way forces people to realize those events throughout the day simply for the sake of making ‘sensational news.’ Whatever happened to “118 babies were born today in your county today,” “A young girl with a big heart saved a puppy,” “A young adult committed themselves to making healthy life choices,” “16 people fell in love.”

…But no one wants to read that in the news. For some reason that isn’t news. It’s old and cliche, yet we don’t hear it enough. “A family was silently stripped of their futures in a house fire.” Now that’s news! That’s news.

That’s the news.

Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Tracer

I was driving on a street with stop lights behind a commercial tanker truck with a license plate from Lima, Ohio, which was strange curious enough on its own, but it couldn’t distract me from the steady stream of water leaking from the bottom of the truck. Stopped at a light I wondered how long it would take before the tank bleeds out; and then how long before anyone notices. The truck accelerated and the trickling stream chased it, dissipating into a mist, and in the afternoon sun, tracing the truck’s path with a rainbow.

 

Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,
%d bloggers like this: