I was just pondering this concept last night while thinking about how I came to my understanding…through ants, and this one contradicting visual image that I used to always see in my mind as a kid, when I thought about what the universe was (a drop of water emerging from a faucet, and despite their being an entire universe outside of it, inside, was just as infinite and expansive of a universe. I would look inside the water and soon would see that infinity of all outside the drop was also contained within the drop, until I would lose my grip and the line between inside and outside, what is large and what is small, would become very thin). Then last night, the lyrical poet sent me this link, but I didn’t open it until now since I was so deep in pondering. I think the fact that so many creatives intuitively perceive the same thing is clear evidence that it’s real.
“We are the story we tell ourselves. In this universe, in this existence, where we live with this duality of whether we exist or not and who are we, the story we tell ourselves are the stories that define the potentialities of our existence…a story is the relationship that you develop between who you are or who you potentially are, and the infinite world. And that’s our mythology…a person without a story, does not exist.”
Are you enjoying your addiction?
Who inspires you?
You:
Me: Trinity from the Matrix, Angelina Jolie. The version of me that makes giant beasts of men follow without question, and quiver under my touch.
3 Things You Believe In
You:
Me: Light, dark, and everything in between.
What is your greatest fear?
You:
Me: I’m afraid to let people know my greatest fear, in case they use it against me. But I will say my 2nd greatest fear is for someone to break into my car and take a shit in it. Because I’m telling you, if that ever happened, I will set my car on fire.
If I met you in the dark…
You:
Me: You are having either a very good night or a very bad night. Either way, you won’t forget.
“So I took her back to my room? I never do that. Is it possible I have game?”
“Apparently you did last night. She was quite taken with you.”
“Really!”
“No. She’s a prostitute.”
“C’mon.”
“Think about it. You met in a hotel bar.”
“Plus her name was Ginger, Donny. Throughout history there’s only two Gingers who weren’t prostitutes. Ginger Rogers, and Ginger from Gilligan’s Island. And I still have suspicions about the latter. In fact, Gus. I’ve made my decision. She was a dirty pirate hooker.”
From Psych. Shawn and Gus run into Jules, who’s on her way to meet a guy for coffee. After Jules leaves…
“Jealous much?”
“Of who? Richard? The man looks like a cab with the doors open.”
“Please. That’s why you all ‘What do you mean? Like a date?'”
“Alright. First of all, you have to stop using the “I’m not falling for no banana in my tailpipe” voice every time you imitate a white person.”
Secondly, I’m a grown man. I’m confident. And I can admit that yes, I’m a little jealous.”
“So why don’t you finally do something about it? She doesn’t sound too keen on the guy. Besides, you’re not getting any younger you know.”
“Yes but my hair is getting thicker. And I have seeds to sow. Don’t worry, guy who uses words like keen. There’s plenty of time for me and Jules.”
i hope not. or maybe we of a better mutation need to organize our rise.
“We’re so self-important. So arrogant. Everybody’s going to save something now. Save the trees, save the bees, save the whales, save the snails. And the supreme arrogance? Save the planet! Are these people kidding? Save the planet? We don’t even know how to take care of ourselves; we haven’t learned how to care for one another. We’re gonna save the fuckin’ planet? . . . And, by the way, there’s nothing wrong with the planet in the first place. The planet is fine. The people are fucked! Compared with the people, the planet is doin’ great. It’s been here over four billion years . . . The planet isn’t goin’ anywhere, folks. We are! We’re goin’ away. Pack your shit, we’re goin’ away. And we won’t leave much of a trace. Thank God for that. Nothing left. Maybe a little Styrofoam. The planet will be here, and we’ll be gone. Another failed mutation; another closed-end biological mistake.”
~george carlin
Maybe you will always be
Just a little out of reach
i was standing in the kitchen washing fruit when i thought, “i miss home.”
and then i remembered, i don’t have a home right now.
standing at the reaches, i am a satellite.
i lied in an earlier post. what i really told her was that writers are haunted by ghosts or angels, but it’s up to the writer to decide. the difference between ghosts and demons is that ghosts are real.
i live with a general dissatisfaction with myself. it gets me to do things, to set goals, to push myself in search of change. It’s a bitch but a taskmaster. i used to fight it a lot. then i’ve learned that a better life didn’t necessarily require changing the forces inside you. sometimes it’s about balancing. i live with a general satisfaction with myself. i’ve learned that if i focus on that and keep that level high, the feeling of dissatisfaction will work with more focus towards that feeling of satisfaction.
Question: How can a guy who has uttered the words, “I want to fuck you so badly,” claim I’m judging him when I say I won’t visit because I don’t want to get slept with?
Answer:
Ladies, don’t fall in love with men you meet on prison penpal sites. The first date is awkward.
experimental stream of consciousness writer who may or may not be a liar. sanest person you've ever met but i'll look you in the eyes like a computer eating magnets. what i don't know about you, i'll make up. and you'll still love me because you don't know where i went that moment you swore i disappeared. my moods chase the seasons and i hear it makes an interesting read. i like smelling good.