dumping garbage into the backyard bin. tomorrow they collect.
today I list negative realms in the office:
a friends says to me:
glenn, life is amazing…and games and puzzles and axing into the unknown are the keys to happiness.
. . .
people are writing interesting things these days and I’m backlogged with plenty to read – I’ll be all caught up by May or June. c’s friends stopped by tonight and hung out. just having people here in the apartment brings life to the place. Rudra was loving up the attention, Kalika was scared to freakin’ death, nothing new.
the days are getting longer, the temperature is 52 degrees right now. so I’m good, albeit bored to fucking tears at work most of the time, not handling it well inside my little sweet mind. when it’s over I let it all out on you guess who either positively or negatively (in psychology, this negative bit is known as “projection”). the positive stuff, well at least positive to me, generally means I’m surcharged with energy, goofing off singing songs in the car, extremely talkative, hypothesizing, etc. tonight for instance, we went out on a date. it was good. we got our taxes done, and ate veggie sushi in the parking lot. before I got there I said, you know those marathons and the runners have numbers on their shirts? they should put numbers on the trees, make them feel a part of the whole thing. they’re just really slow runners. and the slower of the slow runners, too, can feel good that they’re at least passing someone in the race.
. . .
quote from Feed:
First, in the deserts and veldts arose oral culture, the culture of the spoken word. then in the cities with their temples and bazaars came the pictographs, and later, symbols that produced sounds as if by magic, and what followed was written culture. then, in the universities and under the steeples of young nations, print culture. these – oral culture, written culture, the culture of print – these have always been considered the great epochs of man.
“we americans,” he said, “are interested only in the consumption of our products. we have no interest in how they were produced, or what happens to them – what happens to them once we discard them, once we throw them away.”
. . .
dream from the other night:
I was with my grandparents and I was recalling alien abduction experiences that were coming back to me. we looked out the window together, me and my grandfather, and we saw one of those greys down there walking around. we could not take our eyes off him, and he looked up at us. I knew that connection had been made and it was impossible to sever. how on earth could we stop them now? I locked myself in the bathroom and started to cry curled up on the floor as they broke into the house and made their way toward us.