---
dear all,
by now, it's 21 minutes past what would be christmas if it truly existed in this 90% buddhist country.
i think that since i don't have a house or a stove or any sort of chimney type thing, he just won't make it to my bangkokian apartment. and that's cool.
if you're alone, don't worry, a new year is around the bend. go get a nice xmas-type breakfast with a stranger.
if you're with a loved one or family or both, take this day off to remind yourself just how wonderful being with each other is.
whatever your preferred religion or holiday sensibilities, be safe and take care.
and if santa also doesn't show up at your house, i'm willing to be the packaged recipient of your "wasted cookies.
milk might prove more difficult to send by post though.
merry chrisannukwanza to all!
love,
bay in bkk
---
Sunday, December 25, 2005
Sunday, December 18, 2005
" always down for the hometown "
---
Herb Caen once wrote:
"It's the indescribable conglomeration of beauty and ugliness that makes San Francisco a poem without meter, a symphony without harmony, a painting without reason -- a city without equal."
Walking its streets reveals this truth. It's no surprise that other cities -- like New York, London, Sydney and Minneapolis -- offer similar realities. City streets are a time capsule that take us back in history, give us a glimpse of the future and help us capture the moment.
They provide context -- a place where we can put our lives into perspective. A place where we can explore who we once were, what we've become and what the future might hold.
---
tonight's homework:
get out into the streets with your camera of choice. prepare food and weather-appropriate clothing. walk around your neighborhood and photograph the things and people and animals and objects and everything and anything that catches and commands to be documented. only a sense of exploratory professionalism is needed.
develop the photos (or download them into your computer if you are a digital-photog), then print them at the lab (off of your desktop printer). affix them in a poster-size design on a main wall in your living quarters/house/apt/studio/domicile, scrapbook them, flip-book them, exhibit them, share them, cherish them.
this is where you are right now. the place where you are, and where you are existing. you exist. and the love you have for the place you exist in, reflects in the way the place you exist in will love for you.
---
Herb Caen once wrote:
"It's the indescribable conglomeration of beauty and ugliness that makes San Francisco a poem without meter, a symphony without harmony, a painting without reason -- a city without equal."
Walking its streets reveals this truth. It's no surprise that other cities -- like New York, London, Sydney and Minneapolis -- offer similar realities. City streets are a time capsule that take us back in history, give us a glimpse of the future and help us capture the moment.
They provide context -- a place where we can put our lives into perspective. A place where we can explore who we once were, what we've become and what the future might hold.
---
tonight's homework:
get out into the streets with your camera of choice. prepare food and weather-appropriate clothing. walk around your neighborhood and photograph the things and people and animals and objects and everything and anything that catches and commands to be documented. only a sense of exploratory professionalism is needed.
develop the photos (or download them into your computer if you are a digital-photog), then print them at the lab (off of your desktop printer). affix them in a poster-size design on a main wall in your living quarters/house/apt/studio/domicile, scrapbook them, flip-book them, exhibit them, share them, cherish them.
this is where you are right now. the place where you are, and where you are existing. you exist. and the love you have for the place you exist in, reflects in the way the place you exist in will love for you.
---
Saturday, December 17, 2005
" the ebb and flow of international commerce"
---
weederman23: some japanese dude bought all of my buttons at the weekend market
weederman23: about 40-60 of my custom buttons for a hundred bucks
mira0013: that's so cool
weederman23: i think so
weederman23: i started to feel weird about it, but it's cool
mira0013: feel weird, why?
weederman23: like, i think i intended for them to be sold and spread throughout thailand...and having a japanese guy buy them...
weederman23: i mean, they were getting really good. like i've been making them really intricately this time around, but i know in japan he can sell them for more
weederman23: and is he really interested in them? or interested in them as a commodity; just something to sell?
weederman23: aaaanyways, i got over it when i did a little math
mira0013: what was that little math?
weederman23: about $2.50 a button
weederman23: so i figure, "hey, that's a sandwich right there"
weederman23: and in total, that could potentially equal out to a lot of sandwiches
mira0013: yeah
mira0013: so many that you might even get sick of sandwichses
weederman23: maybe, but i don't think that would ever happen
---
weederman23: some japanese dude bought all of my buttons at the weekend market
weederman23: about 40-60 of my custom buttons for a hundred bucks
mira0013: that's so cool
weederman23: i think so
weederman23: i started to feel weird about it, but it's cool
mira0013: feel weird, why?
weederman23: like, i think i intended for them to be sold and spread throughout thailand...and having a japanese guy buy them...
weederman23: i mean, they were getting really good. like i've been making them really intricately this time around, but i know in japan he can sell them for more
weederman23: and is he really interested in them? or interested in them as a commodity; just something to sell?
weederman23: aaaanyways, i got over it when i did a little math
mira0013: what was that little math?
weederman23: about $2.50 a button
weederman23: so i figure, "hey, that's a sandwich right there"
weederman23: and in total, that could potentially equal out to a lot of sandwiches
mira0013: yeah
mira0013: so many that you might even get sick of sandwichses
weederman23: maybe, but i don't think that would ever happen
---
Thursday, December 15, 2005
Wednesday, December 14, 2005
" i double-kong dare you " or " yes, spoilers ahead "
---
sometimes people forget about the entertainment factor. it's about the ride, the gasps of terror, the funny, the drama, the tears of joy, and about the experience of it all. king kong is a brilliant ride of all of these isms.
you have to take a guarded stance against the bullshit blockbuster movies that hollywood and hollywood-type studio systems are trying to sell to you. sure they may be gimungous and visually spectacular, but you end up watching a 15 dollar-a-pop-plus-popcorn-set piece of flashy poo. it's hollow. it's vacuous. it's wasted your time, and made some ass-muppet in tinseltown that much richer.
to get back to it, director peter jackson has created a cinematic feast to consume, not only with the eyes, but with the entire being. you can tell how much he loves this character, with the vast everythingness of the piece.
it's about powerful storytelling. you have to want to lend yourself to a film, to fully engross yourself and everything in the moment, in order to fully appreciate a majesty of this sort. and it does live up to the hype. oh yes. believe it this time; king kong will do it for you, in which ever way it needs to be done.
and okay, let's take a moment to discuss a few tics people have about such tales:
a) CGI creatures: people, you're all going to have to get over the fact that it's CGI. seriously. i mean, i didn't hear you complain when you went to see jurassic park for the first time. all i heard were gasps of delight and wonder. yes, i was there.
using the CGI technology has become old hat, so when you see one or many of these creatures, it's only human of us to automatically think to ourselves (and out loud. yeah i know who you annoying people are.), "gee, these CGI creatures look soooo CGI. i am actively and consciously going to not believe it/them."
and why? because you're better than the movie? because you're smarter than the filmmakers who only want to entertain you and tell you a story? what are they going to do but do their best to portray these monsters and ancient animals in the best way they know how?
i suppose the moral is, stop being such a smart-ass viewer. if you paid for the ticket to ride, you are going to have to exercise your imagination muscle. of course it's fake! that's the whole point!! it's called suspension of belief, and i say, look into it.
also, if it still looks fake to you, think of it as sort of a nod to the 1933 version of king kong, and the clay models they were working with then; how they moved and how they moved people with their at-the-time staggering realism. it's true, look into it.
b) film versus fanboy: no doubt this is a pet project of peter jackson's. it is plainly obvious that he loves the king that is kong. you can just imagine him in the screening room, going fucking insane at how it's all coming together.
he's writhing with excitement, the screen flickering to and fro, and he's rolling on the floor bawling out with tears of joy. okay maybe not, but you can see how hard he worked with his crew on this. it's no mere project, it's a fulfillment.
sometimes you meet these people who are called fanboy's(and they can be girls too, although i'm not sure that fangirl would mean the same stereotype as a fanboy), and they're passionate. i mean, they'll talk your ear off at length about the latest bit of cinema gossip, nerd fiction, comic book crossover spectacular, their theories on everything geek, and pretty much can either go one of two ways: cool, or really not cool at all.
you look at peter jackson, and you start to realize, this guy is a fanboy (the good kind) that made it! if any of you cannot believe how nerdy and successful this amazing at-one-time-pudgy and-hobbit-like man is, did you catch the sumatran rat monkey(dead alive reference) cage in the illegal live-animal capture hold in the brig of the boat? fantastic!!! that's what i'm talking about. and if you still are confused, ask a friend, because odds are you do actually know someone that is a fanboy, and you just don't know.
c) you know how it ends: c'mon people, pull it together. we all know that you know how it ends. it's the entire point of the movie. it's a reinterpretation. it's a fable, a fantasy, a tall tale, an adventure, and a story. it's beauty and the beast exemplified. it's magical. it's raw and vicious. it's period and somewhat campy and stylized and perfect.
of course king kong dies in the end. he has to die in the end. don't you ever get mad at me or make that face; i told you this in the title. and it's king kong, how can he survive in the city? it's just not going to happen. this is a tragedy. it's a fable of caution; of how we can let nature be wild in it's own environment.
and you see how truly along kong is in his jungle solitude; he fights for survival every day and overcomes it as the last of his kind. it'll touch you, or else you're not truly all-human in the way that king kong is not truly all-flesh-and-blood.
it's of how we ourselves become the monsters and destroy all of the beautiful things we try to uphold. this is a melancholy story about love and the nature of the world living in tandem with each other. it's all of this, and it's all told through the eyes of this 25-foot tall protagonist. i tell you, it's super-fresh!
d) it's 3 hours long in running time: can you handle that? can you even foresee how long this is going to be? i'm betting that your imagining the strain of a droning-on feature slumping languishly in places making the whole thing drag and strain under the weight of a story drawn out and killed.
in fact, this piece is 3 hours and 8 minutes long, and it only seems like an hour and a half or so. this is what we like to call, the magic of editing (also known as the power of pacing and storyboarding, but at a different point in time as per to the [post]production). i never lags or feels dialogue heavy. it's all about balance and choices; the choice here was obviously to make a kick-ass super fest, and it succeeds.
---
so use the restroom beforehand, tuck your store-bought snackies safely into the pockets of your bag, sip your drinks slowly, and get ready to not just watch a movie, but to be moved with an experience.
just trust me when i say you're going to love it. and if you don't you can write to me and tell me why, we can discuss it openly and truthfully, weighing the pros and cons over tea, and maybe even have a dialogue of our own. i know it's not perfect, but it's perfect enough to look past all of the little details you might be inclined to list and exploit.
i'm sure you can come up with a whole slew of other nitpicky things (billy elliot get all frustrated and small when he could've been a greater character antagonist, the "natives" on skull island and how come they had to be scary and darkly-skinned and then where did they all go later on? the use of slow-motion but in a strange way that takes you out of the action, andy serkis as lumpy the cook and how his eye wasn't really shut all the way [and kudos for his death scene. this boy gets got in one of the nastiest most savage ways-of-nature that one can think of], the dinosaurs-are-falling sequence and how did the characters run so fast and so far without getting lost? on and on and on and on STOP IT!!!), but you'd only actively ruin a superbly made film for doing so.
but in all fairness to your intelligence if you happened to dislike the piece, in light of mass-consumerism, brand-namerism, pro-republicanism, gaudy jewelryisms, and teenagers ruling them all, this is a perfect example of what your "money's worth" should look like.
---
sometimes people forget about the entertainment factor. it's about the ride, the gasps of terror, the funny, the drama, the tears of joy, and about the experience of it all. king kong is a brilliant ride of all of these isms.
you have to take a guarded stance against the bullshit blockbuster movies that hollywood and hollywood-type studio systems are trying to sell to you. sure they may be gimungous and visually spectacular, but you end up watching a 15 dollar-a-pop-plus-popcorn-set piece of flashy poo. it's hollow. it's vacuous. it's wasted your time, and made some ass-muppet in tinseltown that much richer.
to get back to it, director peter jackson has created a cinematic feast to consume, not only with the eyes, but with the entire being. you can tell how much he loves this character, with the vast everythingness of the piece.
it's about powerful storytelling. you have to want to lend yourself to a film, to fully engross yourself and everything in the moment, in order to fully appreciate a majesty of this sort. and it does live up to the hype. oh yes. believe it this time; king kong will do it for you, in which ever way it needs to be done.
and okay, let's take a moment to discuss a few tics people have about such tales:
a) CGI creatures: people, you're all going to have to get over the fact that it's CGI. seriously. i mean, i didn't hear you complain when you went to see jurassic park for the first time. all i heard were gasps of delight and wonder. yes, i was there.
using the CGI technology has become old hat, so when you see one or many of these creatures, it's only human of us to automatically think to ourselves (and out loud. yeah i know who you annoying people are.), "gee, these CGI creatures look soooo CGI. i am actively and consciously going to not believe it/them."
and why? because you're better than the movie? because you're smarter than the filmmakers who only want to entertain you and tell you a story? what are they going to do but do their best to portray these monsters and ancient animals in the best way they know how?
i suppose the moral is, stop being such a smart-ass viewer. if you paid for the ticket to ride, you are going to have to exercise your imagination muscle. of course it's fake! that's the whole point!! it's called suspension of belief, and i say, look into it.
also, if it still looks fake to you, think of it as sort of a nod to the 1933 version of king kong, and the clay models they were working with then; how they moved and how they moved people with their at-the-time staggering realism. it's true, look into it.
b) film versus fanboy: no doubt this is a pet project of peter jackson's. it is plainly obvious that he loves the king that is kong. you can just imagine him in the screening room, going fucking insane at how it's all coming together.
he's writhing with excitement, the screen flickering to and fro, and he's rolling on the floor bawling out with tears of joy. okay maybe not, but you can see how hard he worked with his crew on this. it's no mere project, it's a fulfillment.
sometimes you meet these people who are called fanboy's(and they can be girls too, although i'm not sure that fangirl would mean the same stereotype as a fanboy), and they're passionate. i mean, they'll talk your ear off at length about the latest bit of cinema gossip, nerd fiction, comic book crossover spectacular, their theories on everything geek, and pretty much can either go one of two ways: cool, or really not cool at all.
you look at peter jackson, and you start to realize, this guy is a fanboy (the good kind) that made it! if any of you cannot believe how nerdy and successful this amazing at-one-time-pudgy and-hobbit-like man is, did you catch the sumatran rat monkey(dead alive reference) cage in the illegal live-animal capture hold in the brig of the boat? fantastic!!! that's what i'm talking about. and if you still are confused, ask a friend, because odds are you do actually know someone that is a fanboy, and you just don't know.
c) you know how it ends: c'mon people, pull it together. we all know that you know how it ends. it's the entire point of the movie. it's a reinterpretation. it's a fable, a fantasy, a tall tale, an adventure, and a story. it's beauty and the beast exemplified. it's magical. it's raw and vicious. it's period and somewhat campy and stylized and perfect.
of course king kong dies in the end. he has to die in the end. don't you ever get mad at me or make that face; i told you this in the title. and it's king kong, how can he survive in the city? it's just not going to happen. this is a tragedy. it's a fable of caution; of how we can let nature be wild in it's own environment.
and you see how truly along kong is in his jungle solitude; he fights for survival every day and overcomes it as the last of his kind. it'll touch you, or else you're not truly all-human in the way that king kong is not truly all-flesh-and-blood.
it's of how we ourselves become the monsters and destroy all of the beautiful things we try to uphold. this is a melancholy story about love and the nature of the world living in tandem with each other. it's all of this, and it's all told through the eyes of this 25-foot tall protagonist. i tell you, it's super-fresh!
d) it's 3 hours long in running time: can you handle that? can you even foresee how long this is going to be? i'm betting that your imagining the strain of a droning-on feature slumping languishly in places making the whole thing drag and strain under the weight of a story drawn out and killed.
in fact, this piece is 3 hours and 8 minutes long, and it only seems like an hour and a half or so. this is what we like to call, the magic of editing (also known as the power of pacing and storyboarding, but at a different point in time as per to the [post]production). i never lags or feels dialogue heavy. it's all about balance and choices; the choice here was obviously to make a kick-ass super fest, and it succeeds.
---
so use the restroom beforehand, tuck your store-bought snackies safely into the pockets of your bag, sip your drinks slowly, and get ready to not just watch a movie, but to be moved with an experience.
just trust me when i say you're going to love it. and if you don't you can write to me and tell me why, we can discuss it openly and truthfully, weighing the pros and cons over tea, and maybe even have a dialogue of our own. i know it's not perfect, but it's perfect enough to look past all of the little details you might be inclined to list and exploit.
i'm sure you can come up with a whole slew of other nitpicky things (billy elliot get all frustrated and small when he could've been a greater character antagonist, the "natives" on skull island and how come they had to be scary and darkly-skinned and then where did they all go later on? the use of slow-motion but in a strange way that takes you out of the action, andy serkis as lumpy the cook and how his eye wasn't really shut all the way [and kudos for his death scene. this boy gets got in one of the nastiest most savage ways-of-nature that one can think of], the dinosaurs-are-falling sequence and how did the characters run so fast and so far without getting lost? on and on and on and on STOP IT!!!), but you'd only actively ruin a superbly made film for doing so.
but in all fairness to your intelligence if you happened to dislike the piece, in light of mass-consumerism, brand-namerism, pro-republicanism, gaudy jewelryisms, and teenagers ruling them all, this is a perfect example of what your "money's worth" should look like.
---
Saturday, December 10, 2005
" condo panorama duece "
---
looking to the world outside; strange eminations from everywhere linger.
turning your back on the night, to lay down against the slow breeze of the dark lights.
---
looking to the world outside; strange eminations from everywhere linger.
turning your back on the night, to lay down against the slow breeze of the dark lights.
---
Sunday, December 04, 2005
" hey! where'd my movie experience go? "
---
nerdy regression:
sooooo, where'd the story go?
what is 'aeon flux-y' about this movie at all excepting the names and pseudo-artistically mad cinematic references to an obviously superior(albeit animated) creator-owned super universe.
it had everything setup: storyline, creator still alive (lookit the nerds of batman [only a few of them and you know which ones those are and in what order], superman[s], and LOTR!!! okay okay, that's not a fair comparison, but still...).
there is an Aeon Flux, yes to be true, but this isn't it. sorry.
i can't believe MTV just sunk to a lower (than they already can pour and instill shit to flourish in the minds of pop-culture and their minions) level with this adapted (tripe) piece. at the end of the show, i was sad to see peter chung's name mentioned; i mean you sort of have to, but it hurts to see it up there alongside his creation.
it remains valid that the characters and the creators (inclusive of petur chung, [was-off-to-a-great-start debut-ist] K-kusama, [fresh off of monster oscar and other lauded performances] charlize theron, fuckin jonny lee miller [sick boy hackers guy? c'mon!], [did you even catch dirty pretty things or the great modern drama hotel rwanda???] sophie O., and also the ill placed and surprisingly cast [usually brilliant and still great in a confused re-interpretation of aoen flux] frances mcdormand. it's just so sad is all; that so many creatives can come together and completely miss the point.
the shots are stylized without weight. the costumes are exquisite beyond a mere star trek voyager episode and nearly pret-a-porter in the real world...if the real world were a utopian-esque student fashion contest in singapore. the dialogue harks no clear references to the original snappy dark lusciousness that was the playful double-speak banter between aeon and everyone she encountered.
gone are the innuendos, the fun, the funny, and the quirkyness wrapped within real and intimate dangers. maybe it's just a fan-boy's ultimate job to criticize everything and shit on every attempt to adapt original fictional pieces and character-driven storylines, but there should've been more (creator) input?
perhaps, maybe? somewhere? anywhere other than a non-veiled reference to the fly-in-the-eye(lash) liquid televisioned intro of the series. it was confusing and made me sad ironically.
i suppose they'll get on, move on, creation-ing more stuff from existing [fan-praised]stuff, but this might've been one that they could have spent a little more time on story, rather than MTV's involvement on.
that said, it's like i said with the entire star wars prequels before they came out,
"if it's rad, it'll add the the awesomeness that is the star wars universe. if not, then it'll prove that you don't really have to mess with perfection of originality."
it's up to you ultimately i guess.
---
nerdy regression:
sooooo, where'd the story go?
what is 'aeon flux-y' about this movie at all excepting the names and pseudo-artistically mad cinematic references to an obviously superior(albeit animated) creator-owned super universe.
it had everything setup: storyline, creator still alive (lookit the nerds of batman [only a few of them and you know which ones those are and in what order], superman[s], and LOTR!!! okay okay, that's not a fair comparison, but still...).
there is an Aeon Flux, yes to be true, but this isn't it. sorry.
i can't believe MTV just sunk to a lower (than they already can pour and instill shit to flourish in the minds of pop-culture and their minions) level with this adapted (tripe) piece. at the end of the show, i was sad to see peter chung's name mentioned; i mean you sort of have to, but it hurts to see it up there alongside his creation.
it remains valid that the characters and the creators (inclusive of petur chung, [was-off-to-a-great-start debut-ist] K-kusama, [fresh off of monster oscar and other lauded performances] charlize theron, fuckin jonny lee miller [sick boy hackers guy? c'mon!], [did you even catch dirty pretty things or the great modern drama hotel rwanda???] sophie O., and also the ill placed and surprisingly cast [usually brilliant and still great in a confused re-interpretation of aoen flux] frances mcdormand. it's just so sad is all; that so many creatives can come together and completely miss the point.
the shots are stylized without weight. the costumes are exquisite beyond a mere star trek voyager episode and nearly pret-a-porter in the real world...if the real world were a utopian-esque student fashion contest in singapore. the dialogue harks no clear references to the original snappy dark lusciousness that was the playful double-speak banter between aeon and everyone she encountered.
gone are the innuendos, the fun, the funny, and the quirkyness wrapped within real and intimate dangers. maybe it's just a fan-boy's ultimate job to criticize everything and shit on every attempt to adapt original fictional pieces and character-driven storylines, but there should've been more (creator) input?
perhaps, maybe? somewhere? anywhere other than a non-veiled reference to the fly-in-the-eye(lash) liquid televisioned intro of the series. it was confusing and made me sad ironically.
i suppose they'll get on, move on, creation-ing more stuff from existing [fan-praised]stuff, but this might've been one that they could have spent a little more time on story, rather than MTV's involvement on.
that said, it's like i said with the entire star wars prequels before they came out,
"if it's rad, it'll add the the awesomeness that is the star wars universe. if not, then it'll prove that you don't really have to mess with perfection of originality."
it's up to you ultimately i guess.
---
Thursday, November 24, 2005
" being global is rad "
---
hey, all the cool kids are doing it or have already
(dylan, brent again, gentry, greg, becca, petur at least once, patrick hates it, abdul hates it, colleen, daphna, and the rest of those albany kids)
; let's move to new york as was planned!
yippity doooooo!
or wait, should i stay in bangkokia?
seemingly it's the hottest thing since cubed tofu, and that ain't bad.
no, sir.
*if the link to the article doesn't work, hit this one up.
---
hey, all the cool kids are doing it or have already
(dylan, brent again, gentry, greg, becca, petur at least once, patrick hates it, abdul hates it, colleen, daphna, and the rest of those albany kids)
; let's move to new york as was planned!
yippity doooooo!
or wait, should i stay in bangkokia?
seemingly it's the hottest thing since cubed tofu, and that ain't bad.
no, sir.
*if the link to the article doesn't work, hit this one up.
---
Tuesday, November 15, 2005
" balls are funny, bleeding from your orifices are not. or is it? "
---
weederman23: i fuckin hate dialup
BTMBRKT: ugh
BTMBRKT: haha
weederman23: it's for assholes and dickwads and of course it's the only thing i have in my condo here
BTMBRKT: so man of 1995, what's it like back then?
weederman23: it's so interrupty
BTMBRKT: haha
weederman23: like a phone call while getting a hand-job
weederman23: and then you want to get it, because it might be important
BTMBRKT: haha
weederman23: but if you do, you'll never get rid of your blue-balls
weederman23: it's like that
weederman23: that anxiety of walking all around the streets full of blue-balls and the phone call ended up being your mom...uh theoretically speaking of course
weederman23: ...or something like that
BTMBRKT: haha damn that always happens to me
weederman23 : damn curiosity
weederman23 : damn it to hell
earlier bonus less adult humor:
weederman23: i'm getting bitten by mosquitos and i can't seem to find em
weederman23: they're like fucking ninjas
BTMBRKT: ugh i hate mosquitos
BTMBRKT: my arms swell up popeye style
BTMBRKT: sometimes
BTMBRKT: especially tahoe mosquitos. Those things are healthy and vicious
weederman23: yeah
weederman23: there are supposed strains of mosquitos here that have dengue fever
weederman23: so i could swell up and bleed out of my orifices
BTMBRKT: um. i dont' like the sound of that
weederman23: which would be gross
BTMBRKT: that's what all the hip kids are doing nowadays
BTMBRKT: no wait, those are "emotions" not "blood"
weederman23: right
---
weederman23: i fuckin hate dialup
BTMBRKT: ugh
BTMBRKT: haha
weederman23: it's for assholes and dickwads and of course it's the only thing i have in my condo here
BTMBRKT: so man of 1995, what's it like back then?
weederman23: it's so interrupty
BTMBRKT: haha
weederman23: like a phone call while getting a hand-job
weederman23: and then you want to get it, because it might be important
BTMBRKT: haha
weederman23: but if you do, you'll never get rid of your blue-balls
weederman23: it's like that
weederman23: that anxiety of walking all around the streets full of blue-balls and the phone call ended up being your mom...uh theoretically speaking of course
weederman23: ...or something like that
BTMBRKT: haha damn that always happens to me
weederman23 : damn curiosity
weederman23 : damn it to hell
earlier bonus less adult humor:
weederman23: i'm getting bitten by mosquitos and i can't seem to find em
weederman23: they're like fucking ninjas
BTMBRKT: ugh i hate mosquitos
BTMBRKT: my arms swell up popeye style
BTMBRKT: sometimes
BTMBRKT: especially tahoe mosquitos. Those things are healthy and vicious
weederman23: yeah
weederman23: there are supposed strains of mosquitos here that have dengue fever
weederman23: so i could swell up and bleed out of my orifices
BTMBRKT: um. i dont' like the sound of that
weederman23: which would be gross
BTMBRKT: that's what all the hip kids are doing nowadays
BTMBRKT: no wait, those are "emotions" not "blood"
weederman23: right
---
Monday, November 14, 2005
" condo panorama "
---
sometimes it's alright to be interactive with the world.
at other times, it's just enough to see it.
---
sometimes it's alright to be interactive with the world.
at other times, it's just enough to see it.
---
Saturday, October 29, 2005
" hiraku sulu is gay "
---
---
george takei is gay!!! yay!
and isn't it about time? even in the best star trek movie (star trek IV: The Voyage Home), who can ever forget when they're entering orbit around the greater bay area, and sulu waxes poetic about san francisco being his hometown. that's so rad.
i always thought that sulu had a whimsical smirk on his face. it's because he knew he was so hot on the series, and he most likely was james-t-kirk-ing all of the space mens on all of the intergalactic worlds. which is fine.
and so what if he's gay. it just goes to prove that intergalactic space love is just as diverse as terran love, and that ain't bad.
so let's put in the dvd special edition of ST:IV, and let our memories frolic down to the castro.
---
---
george takei is gay!!! yay!
and isn't it about time? even in the best star trek movie (star trek IV: The Voyage Home), who can ever forget when they're entering orbit around the greater bay area, and sulu waxes poetic about san francisco being his hometown. that's so rad.
i always thought that sulu had a whimsical smirk on his face. it's because he knew he was so hot on the series, and he most likely was james-t-kirk-ing all of the space mens on all of the intergalactic worlds. which is fine.
and so what if he's gay. it just goes to prove that intergalactic space love is just as diverse as terran love, and that ain't bad.
so let's put in the dvd special edition of ST:IV, and let our memories frolic down to the castro.
---
Tuesday, October 25, 2005
" blog spam?? "
---
i mean, i know that my blog isn't the greatest thing to ever hit the blogsphere, but c'mon you crazy people!!!
it takes a bold sort of uberdork with more than absolutely nothing to do whatsoever, to find out my blog's addy, and then post a fake comment advertising some sort of crappier blog within my already not-readership-prone.
this rampant and recent turn of events has both wasted my time and added another level of blah to the already threadbare commentry.
so hey, strangers and anonymous-ers, please stop making my small corner of online sanity worse by posting links to your blog on cowbells and nasal hair clippers. i just don't have the time, sir.
if for some reason, you do feel the inclination to comment, make it personal, or pertinent, or valid, and leave your name so i know who to blogspam later on if you're just a heartless bot trying to make me crazy; the fact that i blogged this entry in of itself being the keystone to my eventual downward spiral into technological madness.
---
i mean, i know that my blog isn't the greatest thing to ever hit the blogsphere, but c'mon you crazy people!!!
it takes a bold sort of uberdork with more than absolutely nothing to do whatsoever, to find out my blog's addy, and then post a fake comment advertising some sort of crappier blog within my already not-readership-prone.
this rampant and recent turn of events has both wasted my time and added another level of blah to the already threadbare commentry.
so hey, strangers and anonymous-ers, please stop making my small corner of online sanity worse by posting links to your blog on cowbells and nasal hair clippers. i just don't have the time, sir.
if for some reason, you do feel the inclination to comment, make it personal, or pertinent, or valid, and leave your name so i know who to blogspam later on if you're just a heartless bot trying to make me crazy; the fact that i blogged this entry in of itself being the keystone to my eventual downward spiral into technological madness.
---
Sunday, October 23, 2005
" please do not steal my random scene "
---
FADE IN:
INT – NEUNG’S APT - AFTERNOON
The couple is hanging out in his apt. lazing the afternoon away.
NEUNG
Can you feel this?
GIRL
Yes.
NEUNG
What do you think about it?
GIRL
Normal.
NEUNG
What do you mean normal?
GIRL
What do you mean, “what do you mean normal?”
NEUNG
I mean, what do you feel? Is it soft, is it strange, is it odd, is it nice, is it real to you?
GIRL
It’s real. And it’s nice. And it feels, pleasant. Like flipping through pages of a book, or breathing deeply inside an open space; fresh, constant, delivering.
NEUNG
Delivering what?
GIRL
Delivering you, to me, now, here.
NEUNG
Yeah?
GIRL
Yeah. It feels private, and intimate.
The sunlight hits the floor and grazes their feet.
NEUNG
I wish every moment of every day could be this defined.
(beat)
GIRL
I know what we can do today; we can give you a manicure.
(beat)
NEUNG
We need hobbies.
---
FADE IN:
INT – NEUNG’S APT - AFTERNOON
The couple is hanging out in his apt. lazing the afternoon away.
NEUNG
Can you feel this?
GIRL
Yes.
NEUNG
What do you think about it?
GIRL
Normal.
NEUNG
What do you mean normal?
GIRL
What do you mean, “what do you mean normal?”
NEUNG
I mean, what do you feel? Is it soft, is it strange, is it odd, is it nice, is it real to you?
GIRL
It’s real. And it’s nice. And it feels, pleasant. Like flipping through pages of a book, or breathing deeply inside an open space; fresh, constant, delivering.
NEUNG
Delivering what?
GIRL
Delivering you, to me, now, here.
NEUNG
Yeah?
GIRL
Yeah. It feels private, and intimate.
The sunlight hits the floor and grazes their feet.
NEUNG
I wish every moment of every day could be this defined.
(beat)
GIRL
I know what we can do today; we can give you a manicure.
(beat)
NEUNG
We need hobbies.
---
Sunday, October 09, 2005
" essence of albany "
---
fits of momentary nostalgia:
choosing gordo's or zachary's
is it albany or berkeley, this part of solano ave?
neighbors and how it's possible to have them without distinct neighborhoods
do i hate this place or miss it, from 4000+ miles away?
becca's kitchen with beer and jazz; her parents smiling and passive-aggressively arguing over a spread of delicious foods
jamming with dylan even though it was in berkeley and getting sandwiches half-way through or hitting up the thai temple and then the ashby flea market for gold posing as choice junk
the shitty construct that is the new high school, and hating it still, even though i'm well out of high school now and shouldn't care but still do because it's ugly as shit
seeing my house on google earth, and wondering where my car's gone/been
those soccer uniforms of blue and yellow mesh back in the day which were interchangable; orange slices at halftime
playing my guitar even though i suck
my basement makeshift rad super darkroom
the constant groupings of pubescent snots at the seb-leb (7-11)
free movies at the albany twin
zarry's sandwiches with extra pickles
east bay trail behind the train tracks and through the costco entrance to point richmond
friends that understand why we love albany
if you pronounce it "all-bany" or "al-bany," and what that means in terms of location of origin
policeman trading cards
the humid smelly indoor public swimming pool
mary and joe's sporting goods
children center day-care
the village
making plans to go to tilden park for a hike, but ending up drunk at cougar field
not big enough for a BART stop, but not small enough to be considered a boon-dock rural town due to geographic location even when taking into account the square-mile aspect
the border of albany and berkeley at safeway's and how nobody cares except the berkeley half
asian mall and how it's somehow considered richmond (???)
the dive bars and when did they become hip...i.e.-ivy room, hotsy totsy, and club mallard, and why does everyone want to drink on san pablo when they can get a guiness and play chess at THE PUB?
knowing the difference between the old cool albany library and the ugly salmon-pink vomit posing as art deco architecture
dance nights at montero's and world music at ashkenahs
magnificent marin, corny cornell, and how no one really cared about the kids from vista
home, and where the heart is, no matter how fleeting or (inter)national
big up tiny town; the list goes ever on...
---
fits of momentary nostalgia:
choosing gordo's or zachary's
is it albany or berkeley, this part of solano ave?
neighbors and how it's possible to have them without distinct neighborhoods
do i hate this place or miss it, from 4000+ miles away?
becca's kitchen with beer and jazz; her parents smiling and passive-aggressively arguing over a spread of delicious foods
jamming with dylan even though it was in berkeley and getting sandwiches half-way through or hitting up the thai temple and then the ashby flea market for gold posing as choice junk
the shitty construct that is the new high school, and hating it still, even though i'm well out of high school now and shouldn't care but still do because it's ugly as shit
seeing my house on google earth, and wondering where my car's gone/been
those soccer uniforms of blue and yellow mesh back in the day which were interchangable; orange slices at halftime
playing my guitar even though i suck
my basement makeshift rad super darkroom
the constant groupings of pubescent snots at the seb-leb (7-11)
free movies at the albany twin
zarry's sandwiches with extra pickles
east bay trail behind the train tracks and through the costco entrance to point richmond
friends that understand why we love albany
if you pronounce it "all-bany" or "al-bany," and what that means in terms of location of origin
policeman trading cards
the humid smelly indoor public swimming pool
mary and joe's sporting goods
children center day-care
the village
making plans to go to tilden park for a hike, but ending up drunk at cougar field
not big enough for a BART stop, but not small enough to be considered a boon-dock rural town due to geographic location even when taking into account the square-mile aspect
the border of albany and berkeley at safeway's and how nobody cares except the berkeley half
asian mall and how it's somehow considered richmond (???)
the dive bars and when did they become hip...i.e.-ivy room, hotsy totsy, and club mallard, and why does everyone want to drink on san pablo when they can get a guiness and play chess at THE PUB?
knowing the difference between the old cool albany library and the ugly salmon-pink vomit posing as art deco architecture
dance nights at montero's and world music at ashkenahs
magnificent marin, corny cornell, and how no one really cared about the kids from vista
home, and where the heart is, no matter how fleeting or (inter)national
big up tiny town; the list goes ever on...
---
Monday, October 03, 2005
" makeshift boats "
---
the night beat its worn fists against the billowing skies as the open humidity permeated below; the thought of puncturing a sack came to mind.
tonight, there was a thrashing; a shower like none other, the low clouds hung heavy with the weight of meteorological arrivals.
the sounding of thunder rang and resonated throughout, like the vibrant clanging of bells from a high tower.
thin flexing shared hopes of remaining dry were lost amidst the guests at dinner; a wet and shared satisfaction of consuming foods while being consumed slowly by weather.
the waters lapped against the sides of out taxi; the machinery confused, as it meandered through the odd tides in the streets.
tiny boys and various people stood on stools against the walls of the buildings; these walls barely covered by the hanging eaves with wide slits in the spread cloth.
in the middle of the intersection, i saw a traffic officer in an orange raincoat; it shimmered bright and elegant against the surrounding vehicles' collective high-beams.
with a whistle clasped tight, his pants were cuffed in a high pleat well above his calves, and his feet were bare in the shallow waters.
---
the night beat its worn fists against the billowing skies as the open humidity permeated below; the thought of puncturing a sack came to mind.
tonight, there was a thrashing; a shower like none other, the low clouds hung heavy with the weight of meteorological arrivals.
the sounding of thunder rang and resonated throughout, like the vibrant clanging of bells from a high tower.
thin flexing shared hopes of remaining dry were lost amidst the guests at dinner; a wet and shared satisfaction of consuming foods while being consumed slowly by weather.
the waters lapped against the sides of out taxi; the machinery confused, as it meandered through the odd tides in the streets.
tiny boys and various people stood on stools against the walls of the buildings; these walls barely covered by the hanging eaves with wide slits in the spread cloth.
in the middle of the intersection, i saw a traffic officer in an orange raincoat; it shimmered bright and elegant against the surrounding vehicles' collective high-beams.
with a whistle clasped tight, his pants were cuffed in a high pleat well above his calves, and his feet were bare in the shallow waters.
---
Tuesday, September 13, 2005
" as if you have never been on a hike ever "
---
seedart trek to the upper mountainous jungle region above chiang rai: part 2
you awake to the sounds of childen running around outside and roosters announcing to the world that they are alive, the sun might be up, and the day is upon the wide world. breakfast is at the ready, and while eating, you make the observation that food here is not to be wasted; if you are hungry, consume as much as you want/need. this is life simplified based on necessity and sustenance, rather than leisure or preference.
you're preparing the camera equipment for the first "day of school." the project is getting started, and you don't know quite what to expect. it seems, as we pack the bags and prepare materials, that we're going to have a good time with this.
you're "walking" to the school. the hill slope has turned into a downward road into a wooden pole-bridge across a flowing river chasm into a cloven earthen first road made into mud by the rains flanked by the lushness of nature into one of the most unforgiving mountainsides you have ever had to climb.
your eyes are pulsating with an odd sensation and you feel as if you never quite experienced this raw level of natural green before. you almost feel as if you are blinded by nature, and it's sheer vibrancy drives you onward and upwards.
you're struggling up the last few man-made dirt steps to the base of the school. all of the school-children in the lower-level outdoor classroom look at you as if you are some strange animal about to keel over and die at their dusty feet. you take a moment to soak in the beautifully rural view from the top of the mountain, as seemingly all of the water content trickles out from every single pore in your pathetic body. it feels refreshingly great.
you're trying to use every available linguistic ability in your brain to make sense of the basic elements and concepts of photography to hill-tribe children, as they stare onward and through your thin veil of confidence. they see that you have laid everything on the proverbial table, and they know that for some strange reason, the fear you have in the back of your head, has now had the chance to present itself, allowing it in its entirety to be completely exploited. you're thinking to yourself that these pre-teens have got some nerve, but that since that's mostly all they actually have, you allow yourself to be the clown.
you're walking back down the mountain back to the village. the breeze helps to keep the heat off of your over-heated body. the air is fresh and clean, and smells of a deep jungle forest. the deep winds heave unto the hillside from across and through a vast thick valley, which meanders through the landscape. soon you're back down on the path and it seems that if you can have this walk every day back to the village, it'll all be okay.
---
seedart trek to the upper mountainous jungle region above chiang rai: part 2
you awake to the sounds of childen running around outside and roosters announcing to the world that they are alive, the sun might be up, and the day is upon the wide world. breakfast is at the ready, and while eating, you make the observation that food here is not to be wasted; if you are hungry, consume as much as you want/need. this is life simplified based on necessity and sustenance, rather than leisure or preference.
you're preparing the camera equipment for the first "day of school." the project is getting started, and you don't know quite what to expect. it seems, as we pack the bags and prepare materials, that we're going to have a good time with this.
you're "walking" to the school. the hill slope has turned into a downward road into a wooden pole-bridge across a flowing river chasm into a cloven earthen first road made into mud by the rains flanked by the lushness of nature into one of the most unforgiving mountainsides you have ever had to climb.
your eyes are pulsating with an odd sensation and you feel as if you never quite experienced this raw level of natural green before. you almost feel as if you are blinded by nature, and it's sheer vibrancy drives you onward and upwards.
you're struggling up the last few man-made dirt steps to the base of the school. all of the school-children in the lower-level outdoor classroom look at you as if you are some strange animal about to keel over and die at their dusty feet. you take a moment to soak in the beautifully rural view from the top of the mountain, as seemingly all of the water content trickles out from every single pore in your pathetic body. it feels refreshingly great.
you're trying to use every available linguistic ability in your brain to make sense of the basic elements and concepts of photography to hill-tribe children, as they stare onward and through your thin veil of confidence. they see that you have laid everything on the proverbial table, and they know that for some strange reason, the fear you have in the back of your head, has now had the chance to present itself, allowing it in its entirety to be completely exploited. you're thinking to yourself that these pre-teens have got some nerve, but that since that's mostly all they actually have, you allow yourself to be the clown.
you're walking back down the mountain back to the village. the breeze helps to keep the heat off of your over-heated body. the air is fresh and clean, and smells of a deep jungle forest. the deep winds heave unto the hillside from across and through a vast thick valley, which meanders through the landscape. soon you're back down on the path and it seems that if you can have this walk every day back to the village, it'll all be okay.
---
Tuesday, September 06, 2005
" the air up in the 'there' you've never been to "
---
seedart trek to the upper mountainous jungle region above chiang rai: part 1
you're sitting on a plane with a new book in your hand. the pressurization has just gotten to your brain, and concentration is getting difficult. to your left, a new contact is sleeping the hour-long or so flight away, having invited you to participate in a very cool important project, resting away for the things to come.
you're getting an over priced taxi from the chiang mai airport to the overbrook hospital. you're going to meet doctor david, a man that for all intents and purposes, will be your guide through the whateverness of unknown trails and peoples yet to manifest. he looks like a hiker, a camping trekker, a man with the sort of boots that signifies he walks a great deal over great distances constantly and often.
you're sitting in the roadside meetingpoint/restaurant of the hill-tribe villagers, whenever they make it into town; there is a governmental restriction upon the actual entering of these 'illegals' into the city limits, but they are allowed to sit, eat, converge, meet, and peer into what the 'privileged life' might possibly look like.
you're walking at top speed, as if there were no time left in the day, through the local produce/goods market buying things like eggs, vegetables, tubers, ponchos, mosquito nets, and medicines. there is absolutely no catching up to doctor david, as his pace is that of a massive steam engine train chock full of coal. every few seconds he disappears around some corner, leaving only the wincing smile of an old toothless lady selling cucumbers arranged neatly in a pile.
you're on the back of a truck headed for somewhere. the wind smells fresh and clean, completely unlike the "air" in bangkokia. the winds of change, one might say. looking around, there are many faces that seem as if they might be familiar ones; the faces of workers, the faces of old hill-tribe grandmothers with their blackened teeth and red tongues from chewing too much betelnut, the faces of young couples with a baby; the teen-aged husband not really ready to be a father as he smokes a cigarette over the edge of the back of the truck, one leg dangling near to the bumper. all these faces surround you, as the wind pulls our collective hair up and back. the road nears to separate destinations, and these people start to disappear as if you never saw them.
you're getting off of a long-tail traditional boat; the motor supplied from the hollowed out truck engine, refitted for aquatic transportation rather than the road. the last three hours were spent at a hill-tribe school on the other side of the river; the side of the river attached to the road back to civilization. you and your three companions waited three hours for the boat. it was hot and long and boring (excepting the interaction between camera-photo taking and the smiling constantly amused children), and it seems that in all of the discomfort of waiting, there are some people here that have done this every week of their lives.
you're on a second truck. the road has turned to that of dirt and mud and river shallows and tall grasses and deep cloven slits in the earth. the branches from bamboo shoots arc over the road in defiance of man's divination through them, and they thrash the faces and backs of unwary passengers sitting in the back of the truck; multiple unexpected lashing from a nature too old to move out of man's way.
you are sitting in a Lahu village eating dinner. a simple meal of rice and vegetables and cooked meat. you forget for a moment that the reason you are here is to interact, document, teach photography, and observe the means of education that these villagers' children can be provided with a basic sense of elementary and secondary education. the small sound of the rush of bodies in anticipation of food accompanies the thoughts of making it to the village finally after five hours of transit. again, the thought that these people have to do this every week comes to mind, and you humble yourself before the hot meal, happy to have made it to the location of something very very real.
---
seedart trek to the upper mountainous jungle region above chiang rai: part 1
you're sitting on a plane with a new book in your hand. the pressurization has just gotten to your brain, and concentration is getting difficult. to your left, a new contact is sleeping the hour-long or so flight away, having invited you to participate in a very cool important project, resting away for the things to come.
you're getting an over priced taxi from the chiang mai airport to the overbrook hospital. you're going to meet doctor david, a man that for all intents and purposes, will be your guide through the whateverness of unknown trails and peoples yet to manifest. he looks like a hiker, a camping trekker, a man with the sort of boots that signifies he walks a great deal over great distances constantly and often.
you're sitting in the roadside meetingpoint/restaurant of the hill-tribe villagers, whenever they make it into town; there is a governmental restriction upon the actual entering of these 'illegals' into the city limits, but they are allowed to sit, eat, converge, meet, and peer into what the 'privileged life' might possibly look like.
you're walking at top speed, as if there were no time left in the day, through the local produce/goods market buying things like eggs, vegetables, tubers, ponchos, mosquito nets, and medicines. there is absolutely no catching up to doctor david, as his pace is that of a massive steam engine train chock full of coal. every few seconds he disappears around some corner, leaving only the wincing smile of an old toothless lady selling cucumbers arranged neatly in a pile.
you're on the back of a truck headed for somewhere. the wind smells fresh and clean, completely unlike the "air" in bangkokia. the winds of change, one might say. looking around, there are many faces that seem as if they might be familiar ones; the faces of workers, the faces of old hill-tribe grandmothers with their blackened teeth and red tongues from chewing too much betelnut, the faces of young couples with a baby; the teen-aged husband not really ready to be a father as he smokes a cigarette over the edge of the back of the truck, one leg dangling near to the bumper. all these faces surround you, as the wind pulls our collective hair up and back. the road nears to separate destinations, and these people start to disappear as if you never saw them.
you're getting off of a long-tail traditional boat; the motor supplied from the hollowed out truck engine, refitted for aquatic transportation rather than the road. the last three hours were spent at a hill-tribe school on the other side of the river; the side of the river attached to the road back to civilization. you and your three companions waited three hours for the boat. it was hot and long and boring (excepting the interaction between camera-photo taking and the smiling constantly amused children), and it seems that in all of the discomfort of waiting, there are some people here that have done this every week of their lives.
you're on a second truck. the road has turned to that of dirt and mud and river shallows and tall grasses and deep cloven slits in the earth. the branches from bamboo shoots arc over the road in defiance of man's divination through them, and they thrash the faces and backs of unwary passengers sitting in the back of the truck; multiple unexpected lashing from a nature too old to move out of man's way.
you are sitting in a Lahu village eating dinner. a simple meal of rice and vegetables and cooked meat. you forget for a moment that the reason you are here is to interact, document, teach photography, and observe the means of education that these villagers' children can be provided with a basic sense of elementary and secondary education. the small sound of the rush of bodies in anticipation of food accompanies the thoughts of making it to the village finally after five hours of transit. again, the thought that these people have to do this every week comes to mind, and you humble yourself before the hot meal, happy to have made it to the location of something very very real.
---
Friday, August 26, 2005
" international nerdery is rad "
---
BTMBRKT: yo man, are you still awake? What is it like early o'clock over there?
weederman23: it's like midnight 15 is what is be
weederman23: whaddup?
BTMBRKT: not much, just you know. working hard, surfing the net
weederman23: how's hollyweird?
weederman23: werd
BTMBRKT: same old hollywood
BTMBRKT: lattes and beamers
weederman23: oooo beamers
BTMBRKT: i've never been able to figure that damn thing out
weederman23: i saw some fake rubick's cubes at the chinatown market today and i was tempted to send that to him, but it looked all janky n shit
BTMBRKT: haha remember the weird rubick's cube, the non cube one?
weederman23: hell yeah
weederman23: what the hell was the thinking behind that?
weederman23: and i thought i have hella time to spare
BTMBRKT: i had that one, and messed around with it for one frustrating day
BTMBRKT: i wanna find that guy Rubick and punch him in the face
weederman23: i was always stuck on those weird knot, loop, and hoops get-the-ring-out puzzles
weederman23: i'll help you track him down, then i'll hold his legs
BTMBRKT: perfect. This will be a special feature to dylan's project
weederman23: i like it already
---
BTMBRKT: yo man, are you still awake? What is it like early o'clock over there?
weederman23: it's like midnight 15 is what is be
weederman23: whaddup?
BTMBRKT: not much, just you know. working hard, surfing the net
weederman23: how's hollyweird?
weederman23: werd
BTMBRKT: same old hollywood
BTMBRKT: lattes and beamers
weederman23: oooo beamers
weederman23: hahah
weederman23: did you happen to get dylan's prospectus on his rubick's cube project?
BTMBRKT: yeah it's a rad idea
BTMBRKT: i've never been able to figure that damn thing out
weederman23: i saw some fake rubick's cubes at the chinatown market today and i was tempted to send that to him, but it looked all janky n shit
BTMBRKT: haha remember the weird rubick's cube, the non cube one?
weederman23: hell yeah
weederman23: what the hell was the thinking behind that?
weederman23: and i thought i have hella time to spare
BTMBRKT: i had that one, and messed around with it for one frustrating day
BTMBRKT: i wanna find that guy Rubick and punch him in the face
weederman23: i was always stuck on those weird knot, loop, and hoops get-the-ring-out puzzles
weederman23: i'll help you track him down, then i'll hold his legs
BTMBRKT: perfect. This will be a special feature to dylan's project
weederman23: i like it already
---
Wednesday, August 24, 2005
" why is television making me sad? " or " no more confusey me "
---
i'm just sitting there in my room in my boxers. you know? relaxing as one does. cut up some rose apple and begin slicing it up; seems like a fairly regular night of internet and television is about to ensue, and so i go ahead and turn on the teevee.
aaand lo and behold! what the hell is on?? (is what i ask)
um, forgive me, but what the hell is there a biography-styled (complete with sappy yet supportive musical accompaniment) deconstruction of the rise of now secretary of state condoleezza rice on? a-buh??
not that thai television programming is necessarily all that spectacular (aside from the occasional b-movie that didn't get US release come dubbed at nine in the morning on channel 3...sheer comedy!!), but jeezlaroo!!
i almost couldn't finish the rose apples i was so awestruck at the sheer oddity of it all. my mouth hung half open and agape. oh, and there's bush, and hey c'mon in donald r. pleasure to see you on thai airwaves. whathtehellisgoingon!!!?
there's something to be said about the power of bypassing such strange broadcasting choices with the magic that is dvdvd's.
there really is.
ps- another real kicker is that following the show was a 59th anniversary commercial for yamaha and their kalaidoscopically-rainbowed array of quality products, full with their entire line of exports explained in japanese, all over a whistling redition of the toy R' us 'theme song.'
(insert blank stare here, and a collective crapping of a brick)
---
i'm just sitting there in my room in my boxers. you know? relaxing as one does. cut up some rose apple and begin slicing it up; seems like a fairly regular night of internet and television is about to ensue, and so i go ahead and turn on the teevee.
aaand lo and behold! what the hell is on?? (is what i ask)
um, forgive me, but what the hell is there a biography-styled (complete with sappy yet supportive musical accompaniment) deconstruction of the rise of now secretary of state condoleezza rice on? a-buh??
not that thai television programming is necessarily all that spectacular (aside from the occasional b-movie that didn't get US release come dubbed at nine in the morning on channel 3...sheer comedy!!), but jeezlaroo!!
i almost couldn't finish the rose apples i was so awestruck at the sheer oddity of it all. my mouth hung half open and agape. oh, and there's bush, and hey c'mon in donald r. pleasure to see you on thai airwaves. whathtehellisgoingon!!!?
there's something to be said about the power of bypassing such strange broadcasting choices with the magic that is dvdvd's.
there really is.
ps- another real kicker is that following the show was a 59th anniversary commercial for yamaha and their kalaidoscopically-rainbowed array of quality products, full with their entire line of exports explained in japanese, all over a whistling redition of the toy R' us 'theme song.'
(insert blank stare here, and a collective crapping of a brick)
---
Saturday, August 20, 2005
" hey mr. taxi man, you so crazy "
---
hypocrites come in all flavors. i especially like religious fanatics that go to the far reaches of the earth, just to spread their capitalistic endeavors in the guise of fanaticisms about god and love.
it's almost like 'yo, this place that is the end of the world to you guys [in your starchy white shirts and blue-black ties you bastards in slacks and male mary-janes shit for brains only speaking english because you give a flying shit about actually learning a second language coulda given me the money so i could develop my own work instead of wasting it so you can get your pasty girlfriend an ethnic trinket muthafuckas] is just the beginning for the inhabitants there...so doi?'
but yes. i digress. hypocrites. sometimes they come at you all sneaky-like. as if a ninja in plain sight. and that happened to me today, and i was flustered for only a moment:
i was on my way back to my heez from the airport today. usually, when you go anywhere from the don muang international airport, you have to pay a pre-fare payment of 50 baht ($1.25), of which i usually can bypass with a little finesse.
the trick is that when you are leaving the airport alone or with a friend with little to no baggage, you can pick up a taxi from the departures level, that happens to be dropping a person or persons off, thus bypassing the taxi-chartering cost. and in this manner, i was thusly off towards home.
mr. taxi man chopped it up a bit about the state of some of the taxis; the age and make of the older models versus the newer sleeker ones with the bio-diesel options (of which he had). he barked furiously over the need for the comfort of the rider and then the driver; a/c being his top priority. then he scolded the other (50 baht charger) taxi drivers for wasting time, space, gas, and the money of riders by merely existing.
we went on to talk about the weather, the nature of the modern thai person in the face of foreign infrastructure and influences, of which i was fairly impressed due to the fact that he seemed like a thinker, but perhaps not outside the pattering-on taxi-man drivel sort of vein. i remember feeling a little impressed and also, he didn't ask me once about my non-clearly-speaking thai language skills, which was refreshing. go him!, i thought to myself.
when we neared to the saphan kwai area we came to a stilted brake-rev-scoot-brake-rev pattern due to the engaging traffic. he peered over to the curbside pathways across the street and commented on how the buddhist amulets were placed on the ground. this disturbed him greatly because images of the buddha and revered monks should not rest on the ground.
he reprimanded the sellers of the amulets enraged and on the cusp of releasing a thread of curses, but as a civil man, remained collected and respectful. it was an odd mix of intense respect for the ideology that is buddhism, and the sordid regard that these vendors attributed to their wares. i almost felt a sort of vibrant respect for the man; working hard and high morals makes the best shoot-the-shitters-in-a-taxi-cab people.
when we pulled up to where i requested to be dropped off, i slipped him the fare. the next thing that happened momentarily struck me befounded and aloof. and it was something that i myself was not entirely prepared to hear. he leans over in a now-that-we're-friends way, and he asks me for the 50 extra baht taxi-charter fare on top of the cab ride fare, as if it were not going against everything that he seemed to be preaching. i mean, are you crazy guy? you gotta be fuckin' kidding me, fo' reals!
needless to say, i was dumbfounded and oddly enough, calmly amused.
beaming from the inside out, i gave him the money, because hey, even the strongest of us need to make that cheddar. i felt sorry for him, and knew that dude most likely really feel the way he did about things, and was more angry at myself for not realizing that he was entirely human altogether.
ah, the folly of idle chat. i gotta start filming this stuff. it's gold i tell you, gold!
---
hypocrites come in all flavors. i especially like religious fanatics that go to the far reaches of the earth, just to spread their capitalistic endeavors in the guise of fanaticisms about god and love.
it's almost like 'yo, this place that is the end of the world to you guys [in your starchy white shirts and blue-black ties you bastards in slacks and male mary-janes shit for brains only speaking english because you give a flying shit about actually learning a second language coulda given me the money so i could develop my own work instead of wasting it so you can get your pasty girlfriend an ethnic trinket muthafuckas] is just the beginning for the inhabitants there...so doi?'
but yes. i digress. hypocrites. sometimes they come at you all sneaky-like. as if a ninja in plain sight. and that happened to me today, and i was flustered for only a moment:
i was on my way back to my heez from the airport today. usually, when you go anywhere from the don muang international airport, you have to pay a pre-fare payment of 50 baht ($1.25), of which i usually can bypass with a little finesse.
the trick is that when you are leaving the airport alone or with a friend with little to no baggage, you can pick up a taxi from the departures level, that happens to be dropping a person or persons off, thus bypassing the taxi-chartering cost. and in this manner, i was thusly off towards home.
mr. taxi man chopped it up a bit about the state of some of the taxis; the age and make of the older models versus the newer sleeker ones with the bio-diesel options (of which he had). he barked furiously over the need for the comfort of the rider and then the driver; a/c being his top priority. then he scolded the other (50 baht charger) taxi drivers for wasting time, space, gas, and the money of riders by merely existing.
we went on to talk about the weather, the nature of the modern thai person in the face of foreign infrastructure and influences, of which i was fairly impressed due to the fact that he seemed like a thinker, but perhaps not outside the pattering-on taxi-man drivel sort of vein. i remember feeling a little impressed and also, he didn't ask me once about my non-clearly-speaking thai language skills, which was refreshing. go him!, i thought to myself.
when we neared to the saphan kwai area we came to a stilted brake-rev-scoot-brake-rev pattern due to the engaging traffic. he peered over to the curbside pathways across the street and commented on how the buddhist amulets were placed on the ground. this disturbed him greatly because images of the buddha and revered monks should not rest on the ground.
he reprimanded the sellers of the amulets enraged and on the cusp of releasing a thread of curses, but as a civil man, remained collected and respectful. it was an odd mix of intense respect for the ideology that is buddhism, and the sordid regard that these vendors attributed to their wares. i almost felt a sort of vibrant respect for the man; working hard and high morals makes the best shoot-the-shitters-in-a-taxi-cab people.
when we pulled up to where i requested to be dropped off, i slipped him the fare. the next thing that happened momentarily struck me befounded and aloof. and it was something that i myself was not entirely prepared to hear. he leans over in a now-that-we're-friends way, and he asks me for the 50 extra baht taxi-charter fare on top of the cab ride fare, as if it were not going against everything that he seemed to be preaching. i mean, are you crazy guy? you gotta be fuckin' kidding me, fo' reals!
needless to say, i was dumbfounded and oddly enough, calmly amused.
beaming from the inside out, i gave him the money, because hey, even the strongest of us need to make that cheddar. i felt sorry for him, and knew that dude most likely really feel the way he did about things, and was more angry at myself for not realizing that he was entirely human altogether.
ah, the folly of idle chat. i gotta start filming this stuff. it's gold i tell you, gold!
---
Monday, August 08, 2005
" some of my friends are bastards "
---
w1nd0z395182: Hey homie dont you ever sleep?
weederman23: who in the what now?
w1nd0z395182: i'll probably never know lol
weederman23: mm
w1nd0z395182: oh crap I forgot my dentist appointment :-\ oops
weederman23: dentist?
w1nd0z395182: really?
weederman23: what?
w1nd0z395182: thats an interesting question, isn't it?
weederman23: am i the only person who is confused?
w1nd0z395182: you are you, and i am myself.
weederman23: yeah, but then again, no one gave me any acid yet?
w1nd0z395182: o kthen
weederman23: right
w1nd0z395182: o hok
w1nd0z395182: where did u go? lol
weederman23: who is this!!!?
w1nd0z395182: :-P
weederman23: hahahahaha
w1nd0z395182: have u ever been skydiving? I want to sometime...
weederman23: skydicing
weederman23: v
weederman23: sky
w1nd0z395182: yae...
weederman23: diving
weederman23: nope
w1nd0z395182: i just got my new laptop today, i'm excited
weederman23: new laptop
weederman23: mm, are these hints?
w1nd0z395182: the stupid phone keeps ringing and i dont wanna answer it, haha
weederman23: ringing phones?
w1nd0z395182: have you tried the new coke with lime? it's pretty good
weederman23: what limeny coke?
w1nd0z395182: i dont remember anymore lol
weederman23: i just heard that in the states, there's coke 'zero'
w1nd0z395182: uh huh... sure lol
w1nd0z395182: where did u go? lol
weederman23: you're starting to worry me
w1nd0z395182: do you have a gf/bf?
weederman23: what?
w1nd0z395182: You have been talking to a computer! One of your friends is reading the whole conversation and laughing it up right now! GET EVEN! Have the bot prank all your friends by visiting imprank.ebaumsworld(dot)com
weederman23: jeebus
weederman23: some of my friends are bastards
---
Thursday, August 04, 2005
" so you've decided to not be an ass: part II "
---
presumably at this point, you are not an ass. this is a good thing, because i have another couple tasks for you.
if you are in the states, and nearer to one of the two great coasts, and in one of the three areas/art-cinemeccas that continue to define filmmaking distribution underdoggedness, then go see wong kar-wai's 2046. do it.
no, before you think, or think you know, or care, or care to know. just go. go now. it's a beautifully made film that is the end of an era. it is cinema. it is raw, and it breathes. if you come out of the theatre not liking it a bit, you can just be relieved that you spent the last couple hours or so not watching american television.
that's the first task.
the second is to note that maggie cheung is rad. it's true. i dare someone to prove me wrong. and if you actually have the skills to do so, it'll only mean that you haven't yet seen the film "clean," by director (ex-husband) Oliver Assayas.
and the thing is, these are simple things that will make you feel. i can only produce menial inconsequential refunds in the form of untruthful apologies, if you happen to dislike these pieces. but, i gather you won't regret it.
in any case, if you feel like watching them for free, albeit on a TV screen or on my laptop, you'd first have to a) fly to bangkok [rates are higher in august due to what travel agents oddly enough call the "high-season"], b) buy me some groceries [why? because i'm hungry, and you're a guest staying here for free], and c) strap your non-believing ass in for a luxurious ride, cause we're not drifting anymore; we're reeling with the feeling don't stop, continue.
---
presumably at this point, you are not an ass. this is a good thing, because i have another couple tasks for you.
if you are in the states, and nearer to one of the two great coasts, and in one of the three areas/art-cinemeccas that continue to define filmmaking distribution underdoggedness, then go see wong kar-wai's 2046. do it.
no, before you think, or think you know, or care, or care to know. just go. go now. it's a beautifully made film that is the end of an era. it is cinema. it is raw, and it breathes. if you come out of the theatre not liking it a bit, you can just be relieved that you spent the last couple hours or so not watching american television.
that's the first task.
the second is to note that maggie cheung is rad. it's true. i dare someone to prove me wrong. and if you actually have the skills to do so, it'll only mean that you haven't yet seen the film "clean," by director (ex-husband) Oliver Assayas.
and the thing is, these are simple things that will make you feel. i can only produce menial inconsequential refunds in the form of untruthful apologies, if you happen to dislike these pieces. but, i gather you won't regret it.
in any case, if you feel like watching them for free, albeit on a TV screen or on my laptop, you'd first have to a) fly to bangkok [rates are higher in august due to what travel agents oddly enough call the "high-season"], b) buy me some groceries [why? because i'm hungry, and you're a guest staying here for free], and c) strap your non-believing ass in for a luxurious ride, cause we're not drifting anymore; we're reeling with the feeling don't stop, continue.
---
Wednesday, August 03, 2005
" open window night-time "
---
---
it's 2:19am, and all along the wide skyline from my condo, i can see all of these blinking red lights adorning the tall metal spires in the distance.
they're all simultaneous and frenetic, like a visual representation of some phillip glass piece set to random.
it seems at times, that all of the red lights are autonomous beings embodied in the existent technology; lost souls residing within cavernous constructions. the ghosts in the machine.
and sometimes, if you let your vision blur a bit, allowing yourself to stare off as if in a daydream, it seems that they are all having conversations.
but, in their secret language of monotone blips and seemingly randomized pulses, inlaid there are glorious things going on, and everything becomes quiet and mysterious.
---
---
---it's 2:19am, and all along the wide skyline from my condo, i can see all of these blinking red lights adorning the tall metal spires in the distance.
they're all simultaneous and frenetic, like a visual representation of some phillip glass piece set to random.
it seems at times, that all of the red lights are autonomous beings embodied in the existent technology; lost souls residing within cavernous constructions. the ghosts in the machine.
and sometimes, if you let your vision blur a bit, allowing yourself to stare off as if in a daydream, it seems that they are all having conversations.
but, in their secret language of monotone blips and seemingly randomized pulses, inlaid there are glorious things going on, and everything becomes quiet and mysterious.
---
---
" everyone's having a better time than us "
---
weederman23: rusty indeed
rustynai12: whoaaaaa. yes!!!!
rustynai12: and the weederman legend lives on...
weederman23: supper duderman?
rustynai12: stuck in cubicle hell
Your buddy rejected the Live Video session.
weederman23: no live video dealy huh?
rustynai12: nope
rustynai12: firewall
weederman23: cubicles are scary
weederman23: i hate fires in walls
rustynai12: i'm contemplating stabbing my eyes out with one of these red pencils i have laying around
weederman23: ooooh, that'd be gross
rustynai12: it'd teach them a lesson though
weederman23: sure would, although, the cleaning lady'd be awful scornful
---
weederman23: rusty indeed
rustynai12: whoaaaaa. yes!!!!
rustynai12: and the weederman legend lives on...
weederman23: supper duderman?
rustynai12: stuck in cubicle hell
Your buddy rejected the Live Video session.
weederman23: no live video dealy huh?
rustynai12: nope
rustynai12: firewall
weederman23: cubicles are scary
weederman23: i hate fires in walls
rustynai12: i'm contemplating stabbing my eyes out with one of these red pencils i have laying around
weederman23: ooooh, that'd be gross
rustynai12: it'd teach them a lesson though
weederman23: sure would, although, the cleaning lady'd be awful scornful
---
Sunday, July 31, 2005
" word, bird "
---
you try and be the exact thing that you are. never more, and never less. doubters and villains abound and you'll still retain the core of what you are.
so when the opportunity to put yourself out there arises, who can resist the chance to delve into it; feet forward and exposed with optimism, honesty, and a sense of grace.
then, it'll sneak up on you slow, like a wisp of smoke in a summer heat. there'll be whispers around and moments of complete calm when you catch the glances.
the feelings clutch and wrench in those best of ways. simple things, simple things. touching her by the back when no one can detect. the creases of her smiles, secretly holding hands in the rows along the shelvings. these are the elements which create the compound.
she makes you dizzy and feel perfectly happy. she makes you crumble and delighted and all of the things that complete circuits. perfection in the imperfection of human nature, and how that is everything real and tangible.
is it enough that some of the most pleasurable things in the world are those simple moments?
and all in a day, it seems as if this now is the case.
---
you try and be the exact thing that you are. never more, and never less. doubters and villains abound and you'll still retain the core of what you are.
so when the opportunity to put yourself out there arises, who can resist the chance to delve into it; feet forward and exposed with optimism, honesty, and a sense of grace.
then, it'll sneak up on you slow, like a wisp of smoke in a summer heat. there'll be whispers around and moments of complete calm when you catch the glances.
the feelings clutch and wrench in those best of ways. simple things, simple things. touching her by the back when no one can detect. the creases of her smiles, secretly holding hands in the rows along the shelvings. these are the elements which create the compound.
she makes you dizzy and feel perfectly happy. she makes you crumble and delighted and all of the things that complete circuits. perfection in the imperfection of human nature, and how that is everything real and tangible.
is it enough that some of the most pleasurable things in the world are those simple moments?
and all in a day, it seems as if this now is the case.
---
Tuesday, July 26, 2005
" man-pooch: a brain fart "
---
there's nothing wrong with having a man-pooch. i swear. you can always have a little extra flab in case you happen to be in iceland. and it's just cool, i tell you what. seriously.
there's plenty of people who are looking for "real people," and nothing says "real person" more than a little sub-bellybutton belly. i think it's hot, but only maybe because i happen to consta-have one.
i know that if i actually did some sit-ups, let alone a single one, i might get that pocket of fat deposit to melt away like so much lost weight, but it's highly in fashion i tell you. at least i think it is.
i suppose it's just because no matter how vastly my weight fluctuates (this past year i've lost about 18 lbs), it never shows. i have what scientists and anatomists might call a "unique frame." i'm short for a human, or tall for an asiatic-descent human (5'6" - in the morning, when my spine expands after a day of fighting gravity, grrrr gravity). i've got ice-hockey thighs, swimmer's butterfly-shoulder-widths, and a perpetual soft midsection. it's a wonder that i can stand at all.
when i want to buy pants, i more often than not, have to tailor the pant lengths about 3-4 inches shorter, which is fine. except for the fact that my waist size and pant leg lengths rarely find happiness in a single pair of pants. i have since given up on finding a proper pair of pants.
all of these points are beside the actual point, which is this: when you got a man-pooch, you gotta rock that feature, because if this doesn't start to catch on, mine will become less rad...i think.
so, don't be afraid to let people massage it, give it a little rub, poke it, grab it, give it a little pat, or kiss it, because it's right in between a well-chiseled lower mid-section (brad pitt in fight club) and a developing beer gut (the cinematic development of john goodman's superb gut over the course of his cinematic career), and that a'int all that bad yo.
---
there's nothing wrong with having a man-pooch. i swear. you can always have a little extra flab in case you happen to be in iceland. and it's just cool, i tell you what. seriously.
there's plenty of people who are looking for "real people," and nothing says "real person" more than a little sub-bellybutton belly. i think it's hot, but only maybe because i happen to consta-have one.
i know that if i actually did some sit-ups, let alone a single one, i might get that pocket of fat deposit to melt away like so much lost weight, but it's highly in fashion i tell you. at least i think it is.
i suppose it's just because no matter how vastly my weight fluctuates (this past year i've lost about 18 lbs), it never shows. i have what scientists and anatomists might call a "unique frame." i'm short for a human, or tall for an asiatic-descent human (5'6" - in the morning, when my spine expands after a day of fighting gravity, grrrr gravity). i've got ice-hockey thighs, swimmer's butterfly-shoulder-widths, and a perpetual soft midsection. it's a wonder that i can stand at all.
when i want to buy pants, i more often than not, have to tailor the pant lengths about 3-4 inches shorter, which is fine. except for the fact that my waist size and pant leg lengths rarely find happiness in a single pair of pants. i have since given up on finding a proper pair of pants.
all of these points are beside the actual point, which is this: when you got a man-pooch, you gotta rock that feature, because if this doesn't start to catch on, mine will become less rad...i think.
so, don't be afraid to let people massage it, give it a little rub, poke it, grab it, give it a little pat, or kiss it, because it's right in between a well-chiseled lower mid-section (brad pitt in fight club) and a developing beer gut (the cinematic development of john goodman's superb gut over the course of his cinematic career), and that a'int all that bad yo.
---
Monday, July 25, 2005
" so you think you're an adult: a rant-like thought train "
---
the funny part of growing up, is that you are given free reign to have a piece of the nostalgia of your past. forever gone is the time you spent mashing leaves with rocks in the sandbox to concoct secret mystically magical potions to cure whatever the hell you thought it would do.
maybe that was jsut me and my childhood friend brian; it was really special, i think. that or we wasted our formative days of social development. but we were magic at the time, and that's what was important. we didn't give a shit!
mm, i guess it's all in the timing of it. i'm not the master of time, but if i had the opportunity, i'd kick old man time in the fucking thigh, for messing with me, raggity bastard. get a new robe old man! jeebus!
(ironically, time passes)
i'm asking, at that young age, is your tender pink wrinkle-free brain ready to accept that you are going to die? i came to this realization fairly early on, and i don't see why i can't live the rest of my natural life kicking mad ass. right?
so you're in your early twenties, or mid-to-late twenties, or mid thirties; when is the right time to do the things that yo uwant to do? you want to travel the world, get on the cash tip and book a flight.
you want to be an artist? sorry, there's no class that you could take that could really give you magic powers. if the fairy dust didn't come out of your ass when you crap, it's going to be a difficult time of self-discovery ahead. sorry. it's just the way it goes.
but then again, maybe i'm not ready to accept that i'm not the greatest artist in the known universe; my creations and imaginings inspiring everyone within inches of me, and extending well and beyond the vast boundries of uncharted intergalactic space and time.
it's sad, really. the point i guess being that who really gives a shit what critics and buyers think (sub note: please buy some of my work, so i can eat tomorrow)? i sure don't...
i have no clue what i'm doing, but i'm happy. is that okay? so, the sub-sub-sub point to the rant, is that it doesn't mater at all. all of this is going to make it or not. all of this work and time and sweat and persistance is all for naught, if you don't enjoy it. you gotta be loving whatever it is you're doing, working on, loving, raving about, creationing, eating, feeling, interacting with, and on and on into the infinate of it all, or else you're missing the point.
and who even is this speech for, if not for myself even? i love how at moments when you feel most high-and-mighty, you tend to realize that you're completely exposed and your pants are hanging around your ankles; the wind passing through your legs with a bright and vibrant velocity.
go get em people, and tell them that bay said it was okay to do what you're doing. if they don't understand, don't be too hard on them. soon enough we'll all be "in the know," or blissfully not.
tonight's homework:
make the time to stare into someone's eyes for more than the normal millinanosecond you do in your daily facial glipses. try to go for 5 seconds if at all possible. you'll find that you can learn a lot about someone by losing yourself in their eyes. it's either that of staring at a cat, and i'm pseudo-allergic.
---
the funny part of growing up, is that you are given free reign to have a piece of the nostalgia of your past. forever gone is the time you spent mashing leaves with rocks in the sandbox to concoct secret mystically magical potions to cure whatever the hell you thought it would do.
maybe that was jsut me and my childhood friend brian; it was really special, i think. that or we wasted our formative days of social development. but we were magic at the time, and that's what was important. we didn't give a shit!
mm, i guess it's all in the timing of it. i'm not the master of time, but if i had the opportunity, i'd kick old man time in the fucking thigh, for messing with me, raggity bastard. get a new robe old man! jeebus!
(ironically, time passes)
i'm asking, at that young age, is your tender pink wrinkle-free brain ready to accept that you are going to die? i came to this realization fairly early on, and i don't see why i can't live the rest of my natural life kicking mad ass. right?
so you're in your early twenties, or mid-to-late twenties, or mid thirties; when is the right time to do the things that yo uwant to do? you want to travel the world, get on the cash tip and book a flight.
you want to be an artist? sorry, there's no class that you could take that could really give you magic powers. if the fairy dust didn't come out of your ass when you crap, it's going to be a difficult time of self-discovery ahead. sorry. it's just the way it goes.
but then again, maybe i'm not ready to accept that i'm not the greatest artist in the known universe; my creations and imaginings inspiring everyone within inches of me, and extending well and beyond the vast boundries of uncharted intergalactic space and time.
it's sad, really. the point i guess being that who really gives a shit what critics and buyers think (sub note: please buy some of my work, so i can eat tomorrow)? i sure don't...
i have no clue what i'm doing, but i'm happy. is that okay? so, the sub-sub-sub point to the rant, is that it doesn't mater at all. all of this is going to make it or not. all of this work and time and sweat and persistance is all for naught, if you don't enjoy it. you gotta be loving whatever it is you're doing, working on, loving, raving about, creationing, eating, feeling, interacting with, and on and on into the infinate of it all, or else you're missing the point.
and who even is this speech for, if not for myself even? i love how at moments when you feel most high-and-mighty, you tend to realize that you're completely exposed and your pants are hanging around your ankles; the wind passing through your legs with a bright and vibrant velocity.
go get em people, and tell them that bay said it was okay to do what you're doing. if they don't understand, don't be too hard on them. soon enough we'll all be "in the know," or blissfully not.
tonight's homework:
make the time to stare into someone's eyes for more than the normal millinanosecond you do in your daily facial glipses. try to go for 5 seconds if at all possible. you'll find that you can learn a lot about someone by losing yourself in their eyes. it's either that of staring at a cat, and i'm pseudo-allergic.
---
Saturday, July 23, 2005
" the evolving of a hair-related disaster "
---
it takes a lot of energy to keep up a shitty hairstyle. as of late i have been very dedicated to growing out my hair.
this means that i now have a stands-up-by-itself-resembling-some-sort-of-grassy-turf-age on the top of my noggin', and about 3 cm. of equally lengthed sticks-out hair beaming from my cranium like black lightning.
now, the point being, when does being individualistic become a really bad idea; sure individualism and uniqueness is great. super even.
but when that dream of being yourself means that you look like you are constantly surprised, one must rethink the initial design.
that's all i got.
---
it takes a lot of energy to keep up a shitty hairstyle. as of late i have been very dedicated to growing out my hair.
this means that i now have a stands-up-by-itself-resembling-some-sort-of-grassy-turf-age on the top of my noggin', and about 3 cm. of equally lengthed sticks-out hair beaming from my cranium like black lightning.
now, the point being, when does being individualistic become a really bad idea; sure individualism and uniqueness is great. super even.
but when that dream of being yourself means that you look like you are constantly surprised, one must rethink the initial design.
that's all i got.
---
Wednesday, July 20, 2005
" going intergalactic "
---
dylan says it all. even if it is at the core entertainment and screenplay, these icons of nerdery are no less important as cultural isms.
i find myself affected and at a loss. better, letting a fellow trekkie choose his words and give scotty one of many heartfelt blurbs, i will allow these words to drift off of the page, and into the cosmos beyond.
live long and prosper.
---
the enterprise will never fly the same after today. and the galaxy will never be so bright. because early this morning at 5:30am at his redmond, wa home, james doohan, or "scotty," of the starship enterprise, passed into the great beyond.
the cause of death was pneumonia complicated by advanced alzheimer's disease.
on a personal level, this strikes a mighty blow. not one of tragedy. he was old and sick and i didn't even know the guy. but, man i love star trek. it's so overlooked by all these hobbits and droids and stupid wizards and muggles.
at the center of star trek was a real humanity. sure, the shows were fairly campy. but i'm not talking about that. the films-specifically 2-6, were about peace, balance, environmental issues, social consciousness (spell check), friendship, etc.
they're beautiful. and the fact that scotty has now been beamed up for the last time, it just brings a flutter to my heart. so hears a toast to the great scotsman who turned the engineering hull into an aquarium fit for whales.
i will be spending the rest of the evening watching star trek 2-6 (i may skip 5; 1-the motion picture is not really relevant and a little too much like 2001).
may the force be with you. i mean, i am the one.
dylan
---
dylan says it all. even if it is at the core entertainment and screenplay, these icons of nerdery are no less important as cultural isms.
i find myself affected and at a loss. better, letting a fellow trekkie choose his words and give scotty one of many heartfelt blurbs, i will allow these words to drift off of the page, and into the cosmos beyond.
live long and prosper.
---
the enterprise will never fly the same after today. and the galaxy will never be so bright. because early this morning at 5:30am at his redmond, wa home, james doohan, or "scotty," of the starship enterprise, passed into the great beyond.
the cause of death was pneumonia complicated by advanced alzheimer's disease.
on a personal level, this strikes a mighty blow. not one of tragedy. he was old and sick and i didn't even know the guy. but, man i love star trek. it's so overlooked by all these hobbits and droids and stupid wizards and muggles.
at the center of star trek was a real humanity. sure, the shows were fairly campy. but i'm not talking about that. the films-specifically 2-6, were about peace, balance, environmental issues, social consciousness (spell check), friendship, etc.
they're beautiful. and the fact that scotty has now been beamed up for the last time, it just brings a flutter to my heart. so hears a toast to the great scotsman who turned the engineering hull into an aquarium fit for whales.
i will be spending the rest of the evening watching star trek 2-6 (i may skip 5; 1-the motion picture is not really relevant and a little too much like 2001).
may the force be with you. i mean, i am the one.
dylan
---
" nerdlust: the confrontation of certain science "
---
one cannot deny the build-up in temperature created by physical closeness. it is enough to transmit the action/reaction-ness of science, into the brain, translating it into emotional energy.
you have to respect the fact that these two autonomous things have come together in such away. it's the glory of proximity. touch then, becomes more than a sense.
it could be simple sitting next to each other. i could be laying next to each other. it could be hugs, it could be kisses. or less, or more.
it can be anything, and it still doesn't take away from the end result or experience, that through this sense of tactileness, of this newly created friction, that there is definitely something happening.
finding the simplest pleasures within the boundaries and territory of existing science. could anything be more accessibly romantic?
tonight's homework:
hold someone's hand for longer than a handshake or bro-shake, because
a) it's fine, go ahead.
b) it's hot if it's somebody you "like-like," and hot even if it's not.
and
c) c'mon...you know you wanna.
---
one cannot deny the build-up in temperature created by physical closeness. it is enough to transmit the action/reaction-ness of science, into the brain, translating it into emotional energy.
you have to respect the fact that these two autonomous things have come together in such away. it's the glory of proximity. touch then, becomes more than a sense.
it could be simple sitting next to each other. i could be laying next to each other. it could be hugs, it could be kisses. or less, or more.
it can be anything, and it still doesn't take away from the end result or experience, that through this sense of tactileness, of this newly created friction, that there is definitely something happening.
finding the simplest pleasures within the boundaries and territory of existing science. could anything be more accessibly romantic?
tonight's homework:
hold someone's hand for longer than a handshake or bro-shake, because
a) it's fine, go ahead.
b) it's hot if it's somebody you "like-like," and hot even if it's not.
and
c) c'mon...you know you wanna.
---
Monday, July 18, 2005
" feet problems "
---
um, yeah...so what the hell is going on with my feet?
in the past two weeks, i've scraped em, hit them on curbs, slipped in the shower quite a number of times, and of course the final blow, snapped a sizeable amount of my nail off, the other day like a doof.
and if you know me know me, you know that i got some great feet. always tendered to, nails kempt and all. so they're more like mighty flippers rather than man-feet. the flatness allows me to stomp and clomp around, and that's always a good trait.
i remember walking in the dark the other day, and ka-blammo! instapain and a look down; blood dribbling from the tip of my left big toe. so sad. a sharp stingy pain, and i was awash with humiliation.
then a few days ago, i was step-step-stepping up to the BTS station via normal stairs, and slippity-ker-snappity!! i look down with the oh-jeebus look and a girlish wince.
a thin crack along the center of the nail lead to a thick break in the nail at ninety degrees of stinging sharp pain; blood seeping from underneath the nailbed depths, where nothing should ever be between them.
maybe someone can hire me a foot specialist and see what the hell is going on with my walking gait, or maybe i should put on some proper footwear?
but i love flippity flops. they're that comfortable. it's true! i dare you to tell me that flip flops aren't comfortable. i mean it's hot! i'm in thailand!! ahhhhhhhhhh!
i double-dog dare you, even though i know i'm to blame. me and that bastard gravity.
i suppose the moral is i need to look where i'm walking. that, and boo gravity.
boo, and for shame.
---
um, yeah...so what the hell is going on with my feet?
in the past two weeks, i've scraped em, hit them on curbs, slipped in the shower quite a number of times, and of course the final blow, snapped a sizeable amount of my nail off, the other day like a doof.
and if you know me know me, you know that i got some great feet. always tendered to, nails kempt and all. so they're more like mighty flippers rather than man-feet. the flatness allows me to stomp and clomp around, and that's always a good trait.
i remember walking in the dark the other day, and ka-blammo! instapain and a look down; blood dribbling from the tip of my left big toe. so sad. a sharp stingy pain, and i was awash with humiliation.
then a few days ago, i was step-step-stepping up to the BTS station via normal stairs, and slippity-ker-snappity!! i look down with the oh-jeebus look and a girlish wince.
a thin crack along the center of the nail lead to a thick break in the nail at ninety degrees of stinging sharp pain; blood seeping from underneath the nailbed depths, where nothing should ever be between them.
maybe someone can hire me a foot specialist and see what the hell is going on with my walking gait, or maybe i should put on some proper footwear?
but i love flippity flops. they're that comfortable. it's true! i dare you to tell me that flip flops aren't comfortable. i mean it's hot! i'm in thailand!! ahhhhhhhhhh!
i double-dog dare you, even though i know i'm to blame. me and that bastard gravity.
i suppose the moral is i need to look where i'm walking. that, and boo gravity.
boo, and for shame.
---
Friday, July 15, 2005
" so you've decided to not be an ass "
---
if you love hollywood blockbusters, go sit on a nail now; just ram it right on in there.
it's no offense, just a suggestion, because to you, if you love reese witherspoon romantic comedies where "dumb" prevails only through filters of supposed use of brains and initiative, or if you love those manly-man movies where white supposed-heroes destroy the 'dark intruders,' terrorists, or religious fanatics in a never-ending display of pyrotechnic government and military propoganda, this...um, is not the film for you.
http://www.landmarktheatres.com/Films/films_frameset.asp?id=44783
http://www.movienet.com/tropicalmalady.html
we talk about having a relevant cinema. a cinema that holds weight, and engages the soul, spirit and the liminal plane of existence. this is the film that i have been waiting for to come out of thailand. this is the one, among a handful of others, that i can digest in such a way, that i can be proud for it.
it's time to grow up, and appreciate the raw nature of a great film. please make time to at least view this piece, and if you don't love it like i did, you may contact me, and i will send to you "the last action hero," on VHS, and of course a nail.
(hammer or other instruments/tools must be provided by you.)
---
if you love hollywood blockbusters, go sit on a nail now; just ram it right on in there.
it's no offense, just a suggestion, because to you, if you love reese witherspoon romantic comedies where "dumb" prevails only through filters of supposed use of brains and initiative, or if you love those manly-man movies where white supposed-heroes destroy the 'dark intruders,' terrorists, or religious fanatics in a never-ending display of pyrotechnic government and military propoganda, this...um, is not the film for you.
http://www.landmarktheatres.com/Films/films_frameset.asp?id=44783
http://www.movienet.com/tropicalmalady.html
we talk about having a relevant cinema. a cinema that holds weight, and engages the soul, spirit and the liminal plane of existence. this is the film that i have been waiting for to come out of thailand. this is the one, among a handful of others, that i can digest in such a way, that i can be proud for it.
it's time to grow up, and appreciate the raw nature of a great film. please make time to at least view this piece, and if you don't love it like i did, you may contact me, and i will send to you "the last action hero," on VHS, and of course a nail.
(hammer or other instruments/tools must be provided by you.)
---
Monday, July 04, 2005
" so bay's disappeared again: an open letter "
---
dear my peoples,
i might not be coming back in august as planned at all, due to the fact that i have no money surplus as of yet. i have extended my visa until may of next year, and will most likely stay the length of that time frame...so...well, yeah. this is a little awkward.
a few months ago, i was so determined and gung-ho to return home home. i had plans to hang out and chill, to drive to LA and print my portfolio, and maybe hit up NYC for an extended period of a month or so. but now, things are slowly developing in the meantime. it's weird.
i might be writing film columns/reviews for a local small zine...maybe. i might start that production job with 24 frames, a company where my cousin works at, and i might do this book with my friend jan who is in the band "eastbound downers" and incidentally works the entertainment section for (i think) the nation weekend newspaper (an english language news publication). it's fun, and funny.
the most recent thing that has happened, is that i have been taking a lot of photos of the local indie music scene, meeting loads of great inspirational people, meeting the band members, and starting a small networking thing that hopefully will turn into a photo-collective-exhibition thing.
maybe maybe maybe perhaps perhaps perhaps.
of course this is, and would be in between whatever job i happen to get that can actually pay some of these bills, movie tickets, dvdvd habits, and restaurant/street-food stuffs.
i really want to apologize for not being around. i mean, i'm sure the only big difference is that we'd be closer and we'd hang out together, or that we'd get drunk at bars, create some crazy inventions, and then after a few months, all be bitter and stuck. that's fine, as long as i got you guys, but i'm slowly sensing that i need more than albany now.
and you know me. i love me some stuck-in-albany i do.
so, here's to the grand adventure of figuring out what the fuck we're going to do with our lives. yay the pursuit of making movies, photography-ing, creationery, living, experiencing, engaging, and risk-taking. i am alive, and i am now most likely not coming back until i have to have to, so maybe you guys can plan a trip out here? 555. talk to you soon.
love,
bay
---
dear my peoples,
i might not be coming back in august as planned at all, due to the fact that i have no money surplus as of yet. i have extended my visa until may of next year, and will most likely stay the length of that time frame...so...well, yeah. this is a little awkward.
a few months ago, i was so determined and gung-ho to return home home. i had plans to hang out and chill, to drive to LA and print my portfolio, and maybe hit up NYC for an extended period of a month or so. but now, things are slowly developing in the meantime. it's weird.
i might be writing film columns/reviews for a local small zine...maybe. i might start that production job with 24 frames, a company where my cousin works at, and i might do this book with my friend jan who is in the band "eastbound downers" and incidentally works the entertainment section for (i think) the nation weekend newspaper (an english language news publication). it's fun, and funny.
the most recent thing that has happened, is that i have been taking a lot of photos of the local indie music scene, meeting loads of great inspirational people, meeting the band members, and starting a small networking thing that hopefully will turn into a photo-collective-exhibition thing.
maybe maybe maybe perhaps perhaps perhaps.
of course this is, and would be in between whatever job i happen to get that can actually pay some of these bills, movie tickets, dvdvd habits, and restaurant/street-food stuffs.
i really want to apologize for not being around. i mean, i'm sure the only big difference is that we'd be closer and we'd hang out together, or that we'd get drunk at bars, create some crazy inventions, and then after a few months, all be bitter and stuck. that's fine, as long as i got you guys, but i'm slowly sensing that i need more than albany now.
and you know me. i love me some stuck-in-albany i do.
so, here's to the grand adventure of figuring out what the fuck we're going to do with our lives. yay the pursuit of making movies, photography-ing, creationery, living, experiencing, engaging, and risk-taking. i am alive, and i am now most likely not coming back until i have to have to, so maybe you guys can plan a trip out here? 555. talk to you soon.
love,
bay
---
Friday, June 24, 2005
" i like me some gingerbread house "
---
sometimes in the pursuit of stability in our own lives, we stumble onto the path of another's. destinations hidden by the strange and alluring; voices call out from stillness and slip lovingly into the forms of our ears.
blind steps on such interesting avenues, which twist and wind far into the unknown.
and while meandering and exploring upon this path, you might find a trail of crumbs which leads you into the wide unfamiliar.
who's to say that it is not valid? as much as i like to think that everything is laid out in such a fashion, one cannot deny that a trail of crumbs is vastly fascinating.
---
sometimes in the pursuit of stability in our own lives, we stumble onto the path of another's. destinations hidden by the strange and alluring; voices call out from stillness and slip lovingly into the forms of our ears.
blind steps on such interesting avenues, which twist and wind far into the unknown.
and while meandering and exploring upon this path, you might find a trail of crumbs which leads you into the wide unfamiliar.
who's to say that it is not valid? as much as i like to think that everything is laid out in such a fashion, one cannot deny that a trail of crumbs is vastly fascinating.
---
Thursday, June 23, 2005
" losing it properly "
---
fiction:
altogether and in an instant you realize that you have absolutely nothing to lose. she's standing in the doorway slightly turned away from you; the slight breeze creating a beautiful ocean of movement reflected in her eyes.
you raise your camera to your eye and focus right in on her mysterious everythings, as if one could catch her in photograph. in slight smiles she renders me adrift on a calm ocean plane.
and such a peace that is constant and throughout. you haven't felt this optimistic in some time. and scared out of your skin.
as they put it, endless possibilities are just at your fingertips. and i'm sure they're right, but still. hesitation lingers on your lips which do not speak. lingers on your hands which are safely lowered at your side. lingers on your confidence like a wet blanket; the weight of the world suddenly becomes visceral.
but, you are going to be okay. so go for the ghost. a life wasted on doubt never got anyone anywhere. there are greater things in this world to experience yet, you've said many times before, and soon, the moment will pass.
put down the camera.
---
fiction:
altogether and in an instant you realize that you have absolutely nothing to lose. she's standing in the doorway slightly turned away from you; the slight breeze creating a beautiful ocean of movement reflected in her eyes.
you raise your camera to your eye and focus right in on her mysterious everythings, as if one could catch her in photograph. in slight smiles she renders me adrift on a calm ocean plane.
and such a peace that is constant and throughout. you haven't felt this optimistic in some time. and scared out of your skin.
as they put it, endless possibilities are just at your fingertips. and i'm sure they're right, but still. hesitation lingers on your lips which do not speak. lingers on your hands which are safely lowered at your side. lingers on your confidence like a wet blanket; the weight of the world suddenly becomes visceral.
but, you are going to be okay. so go for the ghost. a life wasted on doubt never got anyone anywhere. there are greater things in this world to experience yet, you've said many times before, and soon, the moment will pass.
put down the camera.
---
Monday, June 20, 2005
" sundays becoming mondays "
---
i was thinking about her this morning
and then, i
at that very moment,
found a 5-baht piece on the ground,
picked it up, and
the thought of her burned
through my being, like the
hot coin nestled in my palm.
---
i was thinking about her this morning
and then, i
at that very moment,
found a 5-baht piece on the ground,
picked it up, and
the thought of her burned
through my being, like the
hot coin nestled in my palm.
---
Friday, June 17, 2005
" meeting everybody again for the first time "
---
hi.
what's going on?
long time no see, and all that jazz.i thought i knew you, but it seems that everyone has their own version of reality. the thing about it is, if you could just see, just make an attempt to locate that thing that is me, amongst all of these other floating sacks of human. it'd be interesting,
i can guarantee you that much.so, yes. i suppose i haven't seen you in some time. here are some things to re-learn about me:
- feet are proper nice. well, they are.
- nerds are surprisingly still cool. i have my recently renewed membership card for your perusal if you don't believe me.
- glances can make me faint inside; die a thousand deaths to live for the moment.
- i am scary into photographery, ooh and filmmakery. let's do a project!
- i have a sweet tooth, and i need them pulled out.
- i watch a lot of movies, like a mad lot of them. if we hung out, i'd most likely suggest that we go catch a flick. but don't worry, i'm sure you like movies too. it's just normal, innit?
- i am completely not an raging asshole. it's true! even if you provoked me or stole my shoes, i'd probably just shrug it off after a moment of confusion to why you would do such a thing. and i'm good to people. you can write that down, and put it in your pocket.
- i'm going home home soon, then coming back to the big BKK, so hit me up now and soon, or then and later. either way, everyone is free to get some bay-time in. and you better believe it, bay-time is always an experience. um, i have references.
that's about all i got for now. good to see you again. i really like what you've done with your (insert hair or clothing style or fixed wandery-eye description here), it really suits you. i'm glad that you're doing well. i'll mail you a special (insert random desired thai thing here) if'n you'd like.
cause that's what friends are for. that and you can repay me by walking on my back.
tonight's homework:
remember, the wide world is there, right before your feet which by design move forward. so take the time; every step is toward something fantastical.
(elements of fantasticality not refunded in the case that the fantastical is a bear, wombat, or rabid mongoose.)
---
Sunday, June 12, 2005
" smaller world "
---
you're dancing in a miscellaneous bangkokian club and everyone is happy. the lights flash around you as you attain two to three feet of air with your legs all a-jangle and arms flailing. it's as if the world has become smaller and capable of everything great.
each and every pore exudes happiness and at this moment, you are coursing along the same river as every living thing in the universe. to your left and right, smiling faces contort and shape to make what could be described as the closest thing to a state of bliss, as can be had in such a loud blaring place.
far off in the distance, merrymakers have mounted the podiums and larger speakers; gods of sound and movement. they claim their spot and own their own five-foot bubble of ecstasy. surely no other moment in the last few have been as pleasant as this one.
your small band of dancing friends are all obtuse angles and sparkles, and they look dead sexy. in mid-air, you look down upon the massive crowd that has now gathered on the dance floor, and for one brief shiny gravity-defiant moment, you feel as if no one can take this away from you ever.
---
you're dancing in a miscellaneous bangkokian club and everyone is happy. the lights flash around you as you attain two to three feet of air with your legs all a-jangle and arms flailing. it's as if the world has become smaller and capable of everything great.
each and every pore exudes happiness and at this moment, you are coursing along the same river as every living thing in the universe. to your left and right, smiling faces contort and shape to make what could be described as the closest thing to a state of bliss, as can be had in such a loud blaring place.
far off in the distance, merrymakers have mounted the podiums and larger speakers; gods of sound and movement. they claim their spot and own their own five-foot bubble of ecstasy. surely no other moment in the last few have been as pleasant as this one.
your small band of dancing friends are all obtuse angles and sparkles, and they look dead sexy. in mid-air, you look down upon the massive crowd that has now gathered on the dance floor, and for one brief shiny gravity-defiant moment, you feel as if no one can take this away from you ever.
---
Monday, June 06, 2005
" planting "
---
as if you needed to see anymore of my photog pieces, they're now working for good. not that i ever had a successful time working for evil. i'm just not cut out for the dark side.
here's a nod to one that has begun something.
http://www.seedart.org/
http://chrisana.blogspot.com/
http://chrisana.blogspot.com/2005/06/unveiled-seedart-project.html
with the camera strap tight and a clear mind; go get them tiger.
---
as if you needed to see anymore of my photog pieces, they're now working for good. not that i ever had a successful time working for evil. i'm just not cut out for the dark side.
here's a nod to one that has begun something.
http://www.seedart.org/
http://chrisana.blogspot.com/
http://chrisana.blogspot.com/2005/06/unveiled-seedart-project.html
with the camera strap tight and a clear mind; go get them tiger.
---
" figure it out on your own "
---
passing time in the most random ways,
i step out an onto the smooth passages.
no one to let you know how it'll turn out.
no one to let you in.
if it's all just smoke and mirrors,
let alice pass to meet the catapiller-man.
fingers streched long and reaching
in order to find them there, now
and not in a what-if, or then.
the time comes, and still no signs.
create the path, make the signal,
crafting your own version of the middle way.
saying fuck-all to these disbelievers;
stumbling down the soi, but still forward, onwards. point b.
forever becoming. forever desires seeping in.
forever never seemed so long.
hidden groves within the cobwebs.
quick and slight touches, glances.
these moments of our evolving lives,
open wide, and yearning for our inclusion.
---
passing time in the most random ways,
i step out an onto the smooth passages.
no one to let you know how it'll turn out.
no one to let you in.
if it's all just smoke and mirrors,
let alice pass to meet the catapiller-man.
fingers streched long and reaching
in order to find them there, now
and not in a what-if, or then.
the time comes, and still no signs.
create the path, make the signal,
crafting your own version of the middle way.
saying fuck-all to these disbelievers;
stumbling down the soi, but still forward, onwards. point b.
forever becoming. forever desires seeping in.
forever never seemed so long.
hidden groves within the cobwebs.
quick and slight touches, glances.
these moments of our evolving lives,
open wide, and yearning for our inclusion.
---
Wednesday, June 01, 2005
" kiss my prik grapow khai dow "
---
sometimes i wonder if i have any major psychological or medical problems. like, am i having a mood swingydingy or am i an irritable mild bi-polar? or, why are my ribs sorta like they are; angular and positioned thus?
it's not as if i have any doubt that i am anything but what could be considered "normal," but maybe if i had a distinguishable affliction or acknowledged clinical state of being, i might be what most would consider far from typical.
though there's nothing wrong with being typical mind you. on some of my best days, i revel in the fact that i have an average build, a clear mind, high tolerance for the roaming asses of the world, and a mile-long list of interests and hobbies. it's enough to just put me above charlie brown status.
now, how to properly market myself. this then becomes the crux. i have a business card; does that count at all maybe perhaps? and how does one really get themselves recognized, if by all physical and mental capacities you are deemed socially neutral? it's a baffle sometimes.
one of these days i should go nertz and punch some random person in the face. just to see how this potential victim, flabbergasted and caught completely off guard, would react. what could i say?
"sorry sir or madam, i was just fed up with being a C+, and i know you were just minding your business when i came up to you and clocked you upside your head, but i needed to step outside of the box. do you want me to help you gather your groceries and various papers?"
anywho, i still don't quite understand the charm of supposed colorful characters. at least beyond the surface glamour of the moment and the echo of the fantastic. there's more to see in most people beyond the flashy, or the beefy, or the shiny, or the troubled.
and here i am, a premiere example of a superb human person, finding the niche and hitting the stride at all the right angles. what're you upto tonight?
wanna get some pancakes?
---
sometimes i wonder if i have any major psychological or medical problems. like, am i having a mood swingydingy or am i an irritable mild bi-polar? or, why are my ribs sorta like they are; angular and positioned thus?
it's not as if i have any doubt that i am anything but what could be considered "normal," but maybe if i had a distinguishable affliction or acknowledged clinical state of being, i might be what most would consider far from typical.
though there's nothing wrong with being typical mind you. on some of my best days, i revel in the fact that i have an average build, a clear mind, high tolerance for the roaming asses of the world, and a mile-long list of interests and hobbies. it's enough to just put me above charlie brown status.
now, how to properly market myself. this then becomes the crux. i have a business card; does that count at all maybe perhaps? and how does one really get themselves recognized, if by all physical and mental capacities you are deemed socially neutral? it's a baffle sometimes.
one of these days i should go nertz and punch some random person in the face. just to see how this potential victim, flabbergasted and caught completely off guard, would react. what could i say?
"sorry sir or madam, i was just fed up with being a C+, and i know you were just minding your business when i came up to you and clocked you upside your head, but i needed to step outside of the box. do you want me to help you gather your groceries and various papers?"
anywho, i still don't quite understand the charm of supposed colorful characters. at least beyond the surface glamour of the moment and the echo of the fantastic. there's more to see in most people beyond the flashy, or the beefy, or the shiny, or the troubled.
and here i am, a premiere example of a superb human person, finding the niche and hitting the stride at all the right angles. what're you upto tonight?
wanna get some pancakes?
---
Tuesday, May 31, 2005
" life is a zoo at times "
---
hey zoos of the world. yeah, can you do me a favor and take care of your animals? they look so sad, so not well taken care of, and just tired.
small pens with no shade and little pools of water are no way to showcase the worlds' most curious creatures. case and point: the chiang mai zoo. this dazzling example needs a little love.
sure the panda exhibit is top of the pops, with their temperature-controlled environment and soundstage, but for jeebus's sake, help out the tapirs. they need more clean and level grounds.
the giraffes might not like sharing their "african savannah" with the zebras, sickly ostriches, and sulky peacocks. and mr. elephant might enjoy something more than the provided mud puddle for him and his special friend. maybe something to play with other than his wily one-tusk? hmm? i dunno, that could be just me.
so for future reference, if you love animals, go to your local zoo, and make sure to utilize your suggestion box, cause if not, you might end up seeing the worst zoo ever. children will cry, and the "caretakers" will just keep raking in the trickling money.
roar i say, roar.
---
hey zoos of the world. yeah, can you do me a favor and take care of your animals? they look so sad, so not well taken care of, and just tired.
small pens with no shade and little pools of water are no way to showcase the worlds' most curious creatures. case and point: the chiang mai zoo. this dazzling example needs a little love.
sure the panda exhibit is top of the pops, with their temperature-controlled environment and soundstage, but for jeebus's sake, help out the tapirs. they need more clean and level grounds.
the giraffes might not like sharing their "african savannah" with the zebras, sickly ostriches, and sulky peacocks. and mr. elephant might enjoy something more than the provided mud puddle for him and his special friend. maybe something to play with other than his wily one-tusk? hmm? i dunno, that could be just me.
so for future reference, if you love animals, go to your local zoo, and make sure to utilize your suggestion box, cause if not, you might end up seeing the worst zoo ever. children will cry, and the "caretakers" will just keep raking in the trickling money.
roar i say, roar.
---
Monday, May 30, 2005
" through a northernly route "
---
rising up to the north,
along the upward path,
i find myself surrounded by the
most curious vegetation,
as if i've never experienced this much nature before.
the clouds pass over the expanse of the land.
i am nestled within the
cloven groove of the moutain ranges;
jungles are abound and filled with the
baited breath.
cool breezes lift up with the
downpour of collecting monsoon rains;
the sky splits open,
fresh, heavy, and raw.
---
rising up to the north,
along the upward path,
i find myself surrounded by the
most curious vegetation,
as if i've never experienced this much nature before.
the clouds pass over the expanse of the land.
i am nestled within the
cloven groove of the moutain ranges;
jungles are abound and filled with the
baited breath.
cool breezes lift up with the
downpour of collecting monsoon rains;
the sky splits open,
fresh, heavy, and raw.
---
Sunday, May 29, 2005
" backpacker shmackpacker "
---
dear neo-traveler-enthusiast hippies that refuse to wear deodorant because you and your partner thinks it kills baby seals somehow,
sometimes i think that the priority focus on tourism within the past 8 years since the economic crippling of south east asia, has had a terrible socio-cultural repercussions:
the tourism-crutch and rampant backpacker couture.
now, this of course is not to say that there weren't smelly, hippie-leaning, super non-showering, couples with dreaded-when-under-no-circumstances-their-hair-should-be-dreaded-at-all-ever hair styles, sorts of people passing through this part of asiabefore that period of time, but it all just seems so beside the point. am i wrong?
first of all, should the fact that it is a humid-tropical-weather-system-sort-of-geodynamic country give you a clue that you should at least consider a shower if not three a day? i think that it should, and that you should shower. FACT!
i believe that the drastic temperature and climate change should be a blatant clue, if not a prime reason for such personal grooming methods to shift as well.
secondly, i know i know i know that they love their newly purchased for a dollar/euro flowy pants, stringy open-buttoned hemp shirts with those easy-to-use-but-don't-for-some-dumb-ass-reason clasps, and those hill-tribe side bags that have elephants on it, but come on. fo'reals yo! the fashion itself should not be an all-encompassing uniform among the travelers of the world.
better yet, just come at the heat as would any normal person. thin cotton tops and pants that are not heat-creating. the point being: just because you see all of the other traveler's exhibiting their fine buying skills, does not mean that you automatically have to follow suit. and don't wear next to nothing at the temples, you just look disrespectful and stupid. like, really stupid. FACT!
lastly, for the purpose of this rant. wash your hair man! dreads, while holding certain theological and cultural meanings in some of the worlds major religions, does not really make sense in this country. sure hip hop has hit the streets of thailand, but these kids haven't done their history! don't encourage them, it's gross and uneccessary.
they don't even know what the hell dreads are beyond an expensive (or in the backpacker-hell tourist hot-spots, affordable) fashiony style-statement. it just ain't right, and is not really that conducive to your personal hygiene and/or your satisfaction as a "true traveler" through these parts. really, it's not chic, it's smelly. FACT!
i along with many people have noses, it's true. we just don't want to make you cry in front of your partner. or get punched in the face for speaking truths.
so, for the love of whatever you hold sacred: shower, be true to your own expression, and don't dread your hair, unless you mean it beyond the moment of hey-that-sounds-like-a-good-idea. it makes you one of "them," the many who are just shunned and spoken of behind your back.
sure we thai people are smiling at you, but unless you've done some of the required cultural research beyond your lonely planet/fromer's/travel guidebook, you're just not really learning anything. that and you look silly. unless that's how you look when you're at home...which you might, but still.
yours truly,
the ashamed for you thai guy
ps- just because you can get drunk and act like slovenly assholes and make out in public or purchase a girl of the night, doesn't mean that you should. just a clue. thanks for taking the time, even though you'll probably never change.
---
dear neo-traveler-enthusiast hippies that refuse to wear deodorant because you and your partner thinks it kills baby seals somehow,
sometimes i think that the priority focus on tourism within the past 8 years since the economic crippling of south east asia, has had a terrible socio-cultural repercussions:
the tourism-crutch and rampant backpacker couture.
now, this of course is not to say that there weren't smelly, hippie-leaning, super non-showering, couples with dreaded-when-under-no-circumstances-their-hair-should-be-dreaded-at-all-ever hair styles, sorts of people passing through this part of asiabefore that period of time, but it all just seems so beside the point. am i wrong?
first of all, should the fact that it is a humid-tropical-weather-system-sort-of-geodynamic country give you a clue that you should at least consider a shower if not three a day? i think that it should, and that you should shower. FACT!
i believe that the drastic temperature and climate change should be a blatant clue, if not a prime reason for such personal grooming methods to shift as well.
secondly, i know i know i know that they love their newly purchased for a dollar/euro flowy pants, stringy open-buttoned hemp shirts with those easy-to-use-but-don't-for-some-dumb-ass-reason clasps, and those hill-tribe side bags that have elephants on it, but come on. fo'reals yo! the fashion itself should not be an all-encompassing uniform among the travelers of the world.
better yet, just come at the heat as would any normal person. thin cotton tops and pants that are not heat-creating. the point being: just because you see all of the other traveler's exhibiting their fine buying skills, does not mean that you automatically have to follow suit. and don't wear next to nothing at the temples, you just look disrespectful and stupid. like, really stupid. FACT!
lastly, for the purpose of this rant. wash your hair man! dreads, while holding certain theological and cultural meanings in some of the worlds major religions, does not really make sense in this country. sure hip hop has hit the streets of thailand, but these kids haven't done their history! don't encourage them, it's gross and uneccessary.
they don't even know what the hell dreads are beyond an expensive (or in the backpacker-hell tourist hot-spots, affordable) fashiony style-statement. it just ain't right, and is not really that conducive to your personal hygiene and/or your satisfaction as a "true traveler" through these parts. really, it's not chic, it's smelly. FACT!
i along with many people have noses, it's true. we just don't want to make you cry in front of your partner. or get punched in the face for speaking truths.
so, for the love of whatever you hold sacred: shower, be true to your own expression, and don't dread your hair, unless you mean it beyond the moment of hey-that-sounds-like-a-good-idea. it makes you one of "them," the many who are just shunned and spoken of behind your back.
sure we thai people are smiling at you, but unless you've done some of the required cultural research beyond your lonely planet/fromer's/travel guidebook, you're just not really learning anything. that and you look silly. unless that's how you look when you're at home...which you might, but still.
yours truly,
the ashamed for you thai guy
ps- just because you can get drunk and act like slovenly assholes and make out in public or purchase a girl of the night, doesn't mean that you should. just a clue. thanks for taking the time, even though you'll probably never change.
---
Saturday, May 28, 2005
" i kill the pretty boy "
---
he's in my mind, this demon, of all of which i am not.
i take him and all of his inherent flaws out behind the dumpsters and clock the shit out of him.
"you think that you're better than me? fuck you!"
the non-existent phantom of a weak person residing in a non-existent reality shudders and shrinks away; his ghostly hands quivering in the shadows.
i bend down to his head and whisper into his ear; a fresh cut wound drips little deltas of blood from his bruised crown down and into his left eye.
"nobody really wants to be you, or be with you. you do not exist to me. sometimes, even the best of us fall."
he whimpers and yelps as i kick his teeth out.
i leave him, this apparition of everything i am not, out behind the dumpster in my mind. along with a moment of confusion, everything disappears, and although i still am where i am, in everything, i feel a lot better.
---
he's in my mind, this demon, of all of which i am not.
i take him and all of his inherent flaws out behind the dumpsters and clock the shit out of him.
"you think that you're better than me? fuck you!"
the non-existent phantom of a weak person residing in a non-existent reality shudders and shrinks away; his ghostly hands quivering in the shadows.
i bend down to his head and whisper into his ear; a fresh cut wound drips little deltas of blood from his bruised crown down and into his left eye.
"nobody really wants to be you, or be with you. you do not exist to me. sometimes, even the best of us fall."
he whimpers and yelps as i kick his teeth out.
i leave him, this apparition of everything i am not, out behind the dumpster in my mind. along with a moment of confusion, everything disappears, and although i still am where i am, in everything, i feel a lot better.
---
Friday, May 27, 2005
" flicker "
---
it's in waking up every morning,
and realizing that in some way,
all of us are alone.
it's in going to bed every night,
and realizing that in some way,
all of us are in it together.
---
it's in waking up every morning,
and realizing that in some way,
all of us are alone.
it's in going to bed every night,
and realizing that in some way,
all of us are in it together.
---
Thursday, May 26, 2005
" the disconnect of being somewhere else "
---
you take a look around. everything is familiar. everything is recognizable in that vague sense of hey-i-know-that-shape.
you can remember smells, faces, lengths of road, and the things in your life which repeat and resonate. as of late, i have been really missing everything that has to do with home home. it's beginning to wear on my present sense of stability.
a passion for photography and writing/reading is sadly not doing it for me. i've gotten so used to hosting people here and having guests, that now that the last person has returned to their life life, i am just all of a sudden devoid of inspiration. in that evolving thought, i realize that i need someone to spoil.
let's say for a second that i am magically back home next week. what the hell would i do? i'd sleep in my bed for one. i'd hang out with everyone i know that's in the area for a few weeks before they get used to the fact that "bay's back," then don't offer to buy me guiness anymore.
i'd miss thailand. i'd miss everything that i don't have. and feel like that now, so what's the right thing to do?
or is there a right thing to do? is it rather that both here and there exist and it is all about desire and focus? or is it that through letting go of everything i desire, i will come to the point where i desire nothing and everything is creamery? would then i really still be desiring to not desire anything?
life, at times, is very confusing.
and what is it that i really miss? if i could even entertain listing the things i could list here, this ramble would just be a digital listing thousands of strokes long, filled to beyond the brim with content regardless of font size or spacing.
it's not enough to merely say you're doing something; you gotta be out there doing it. i wish that i didn't feel so scatterbrained though. this momentary bout of self-doubt and uncertainty, about everything, is really depressing.
i should just go home soon, is the thought that keeps revolving in my noggin. no matter what your personal history is, there's always time to adjust yourself to gain an advantage on the outcome of the future.
i need a drink. anyone got me?
---
you take a look around. everything is familiar. everything is recognizable in that vague sense of hey-i-know-that-shape.
you can remember smells, faces, lengths of road, and the things in your life which repeat and resonate. as of late, i have been really missing everything that has to do with home home. it's beginning to wear on my present sense of stability.
a passion for photography and writing/reading is sadly not doing it for me. i've gotten so used to hosting people here and having guests, that now that the last person has returned to their life life, i am just all of a sudden devoid of inspiration. in that evolving thought, i realize that i need someone to spoil.
let's say for a second that i am magically back home next week. what the hell would i do? i'd sleep in my bed for one. i'd hang out with everyone i know that's in the area for a few weeks before they get used to the fact that "bay's back," then don't offer to buy me guiness anymore.
i'd miss thailand. i'd miss everything that i don't have. and feel like that now, so what's the right thing to do?
or is there a right thing to do? is it rather that both here and there exist and it is all about desire and focus? or is it that through letting go of everything i desire, i will come to the point where i desire nothing and everything is creamery? would then i really still be desiring to not desire anything?
life, at times, is very confusing.
and what is it that i really miss? if i could even entertain listing the things i could list here, this ramble would just be a digital listing thousands of strokes long, filled to beyond the brim with content regardless of font size or spacing.
it's not enough to merely say you're doing something; you gotta be out there doing it. i wish that i didn't feel so scatterbrained though. this momentary bout of self-doubt and uncertainty, about everything, is really depressing.
i should just go home soon, is the thought that keeps revolving in my noggin. no matter what your personal history is, there's always time to adjust yourself to gain an advantage on the outcome of the future.
i need a drink. anyone got me?
---
Wednesday, May 25, 2005
" all-natural "
---
it's only natural. i mean, if one thing is possible, then that means that inevitably, the other is true.
take the most recently watched twice for a total cost of 4 bucks in bangkok "star wars - episode III: revenge of the sith." saying that we can all agree that the first two prequels had more wood than the entire lumbar industry in lower oregon would sort of have to be a given.
but, this also has to both mean that in episode III, there would have to not only contain much wooden performances, but also be the greatest of the three prequels. aaand it is! i mean, only george lucas could ever make darth vader rad and completely camp/frankenstein in the same flick!
you gotta respect the kachunk, okay my left hand is free, then, kersnap, my right hand is free, followed by the inevitable 'i can walk dad' first steps thing, then the crappy realization dialogue then the best of all, the cool and completely laughable "noooooooooooooooooooooooo."
brilliant comes to mind. oh yeah, and funny. too bad there are no real die-hard star wars geek/nerds in bangkok all dressing up and fighting with lightsabres and sleeping out in front of the cinemegaplexes. i suppose that that niche was already taken by americans and some sad sad chubby euros.
hey, i woulda camped out in front of the Scala theatre, except that it's thailand! it;s hot here man!! and monsoon? didja remember that aspect of our geographical location? i bet you didn't. also there was absolutely no fights to get a ticket! you can even pick where you like to sit. how's that for awesome?
i mean sure, there's the whole it's-a-blockbuster-and-since-it's-big-in-america-this-means-that-we-can-market-it aspect to it all, but really, you gotta be here to believe it. the crowd, if you could call it that one, was only a few couples and some singles strong, and their reaction was akin to that of a kitten falling over. and they always turn off the credit sequence a quarter of the way through, because no one here has that amount of patience. so fun, am i right?
i guess i expected as much though. since all of the nerd mania is happening all over the other hotspots on the globe, i suppose that here in thailand, there's got to be the absolutely opposite in terms of a premiere. it's only natural.
oh yeah, and in case you forgot or cared, i sat in the 4th row because the screen is always mathematically equal to your peripheral vision from every 4th row in any theatre thoughout the entire world. don't ask me how i know, but i do.
---
it's only natural. i mean, if one thing is possible, then that means that inevitably, the other is true.
take the most recently watched twice for a total cost of 4 bucks in bangkok "star wars - episode III: revenge of the sith." saying that we can all agree that the first two prequels had more wood than the entire lumbar industry in lower oregon would sort of have to be a given.
but, this also has to both mean that in episode III, there would have to not only contain much wooden performances, but also be the greatest of the three prequels. aaand it is! i mean, only george lucas could ever make darth vader rad and completely camp/frankenstein in the same flick!
you gotta respect the kachunk, okay my left hand is free, then, kersnap, my right hand is free, followed by the inevitable 'i can walk dad' first steps thing, then the crappy realization dialogue then the best of all, the cool and completely laughable "noooooooooooooooooooooooo."
brilliant comes to mind. oh yeah, and funny. too bad there are no real die-hard star wars geek/nerds in bangkok all dressing up and fighting with lightsabres and sleeping out in front of the cinemegaplexes. i suppose that that niche was already taken by americans and some sad sad chubby euros.
hey, i woulda camped out in front of the Scala theatre, except that it's thailand! it;s hot here man!! and monsoon? didja remember that aspect of our geographical location? i bet you didn't. also there was absolutely no fights to get a ticket! you can even pick where you like to sit. how's that for awesome?
i mean sure, there's the whole it's-a-blockbuster-and-since-it's-big-in-america-this-means-that-we-can-market-it aspect to it all, but really, you gotta be here to believe it. the crowd, if you could call it that one, was only a few couples and some singles strong, and their reaction was akin to that of a kitten falling over. and they always turn off the credit sequence a quarter of the way through, because no one here has that amount of patience. so fun, am i right?
i guess i expected as much though. since all of the nerd mania is happening all over the other hotspots on the globe, i suppose that here in thailand, there's got to be the absolutely opposite in terms of a premiere. it's only natural.
oh yeah, and in case you forgot or cared, i sat in the 4th row because the screen is always mathematically equal to your peripheral vision from every 4th row in any theatre thoughout the entire world. don't ask me how i know, but i do.
---
Tuesday, May 24, 2005
" time-travel versus reality, books and film, and other recorded facets of (un)attainable love "
---
do you ever notice how when you are reading a book, or really into something, that everything starts to remind you of it? my version as of late has been the deconstruction of time as a variable (non)linear structure, and how our relationships are fashioned within that structure.
at the moment i am reading a novel named "the time traveler's wife," by audrey niffenegger, and it is fucking awesome. the story of a couple making their relationship work across the vast endless bounds of time and time travel. it is a searingly beautifully written read, as engaging as any deeply romantic fiction, and satisfying to no ends.
in short, i am in love with the idea of being in love, across the vast endless bounds of time and perhaps time travel. if this novel weren't already optioned, i would feel a great and deep desire to be someone who brings this lovely story to the screen.
i suppose all i need now is a pocket-wormhole, but then everything is not as it is in fiction...which is the reason it is so good.
also, i have just gotten out of the theatre after seeing "the jacket." um, i have a question? can i stop crying at the movies alone? just for one day?
can i not be effected and heart-broken after seeing someone onscreen, doing anything and everything just so that a life, a love, can survive? i mean ba-jeezy von creezy is all i'm saying. you come out of something like that, and everything seems possible when it's not...or is it?
and that's my point-at-times: you have all of these people telling you that you can and will find that someone sometime. but what if you are ready now? what if you are ready now?
the piece was also sort of about time travel and love, and the things we try to do to help nurture that love across the seemingly insurmountable expanse of the (un)known universe. it's a beautiful thought, this ability to steer our lives towards an inexplicable inevitable. if only reality worked in such fantastical manners.
so life, love, the idea of a known existing love, or time, that correct time existing somewhere there, out there. it's makes for an elating world of possibility.
now get the hell out there and start to look for the signs, because love in a linear universe is just half of the picture.
---
do you ever notice how when you are reading a book, or really into something, that everything starts to remind you of it? my version as of late has been the deconstruction of time as a variable (non)linear structure, and how our relationships are fashioned within that structure.
at the moment i am reading a novel named "the time traveler's wife," by audrey niffenegger, and it is fucking awesome. the story of a couple making their relationship work across the vast endless bounds of time and time travel. it is a searingly beautifully written read, as engaging as any deeply romantic fiction, and satisfying to no ends.
in short, i am in love with the idea of being in love, across the vast endless bounds of time and perhaps time travel. if this novel weren't already optioned, i would feel a great and deep desire to be someone who brings this lovely story to the screen.
i suppose all i need now is a pocket-wormhole, but then everything is not as it is in fiction...which is the reason it is so good.
also, i have just gotten out of the theatre after seeing "the jacket." um, i have a question? can i stop crying at the movies alone? just for one day?
can i not be effected and heart-broken after seeing someone onscreen, doing anything and everything just so that a life, a love, can survive? i mean ba-jeezy von creezy is all i'm saying. you come out of something like that, and everything seems possible when it's not...or is it?
and that's my point-at-times: you have all of these people telling you that you can and will find that someone sometime. but what if you are ready now? what if you are ready now?
the piece was also sort of about time travel and love, and the things we try to do to help nurture that love across the seemingly insurmountable expanse of the (un)known universe. it's a beautiful thought, this ability to steer our lives towards an inexplicable inevitable. if only reality worked in such fantastical manners.
so life, love, the idea of a known existing love, or time, that correct time existing somewhere there, out there. it's makes for an elating world of possibility.
now get the hell out there and start to look for the signs, because love in a linear universe is just half of the picture.
---
Monday, May 23, 2005
" crying is for men "
---
you're sitting in the men's restroom and the world around your tiny cubicle of momentary comfort is full of men who are urinating, washing, grooming, coughing, and preening.
of course you have to be trying to hide your muffled whimpering; the tears streaming down your flushed cheeks. that tightness in your neck contracting uncontrollably, giving away to deep throaty inhuman, and altogether animalistic soundscapes.
it's nothing new, so why burst into tears now?
all of your pain inexplicably making an appearance at this moment? and so all-of-a-sudden.
naturally it would have to be when surrounded by strangers in a public lavatory, and of course in a location where you cannot hide this man-child sense of bawling by pretending to be having a violent bout of recurring lower intestinal disorders of the worse kind.
no, you are crying in the men's restroom and everyone knows it. how does it feel?
love never felt so far away from you at this moment. nothing was lost but unnecessary hopes. nothing was gained but apparent truths. it's no wonder the world is closing in on you.
you will feel like letting loose and screaming at the top of your lungs to be fair to your natural instincts, but realize that airport security might come to investigate why a bathroom stall is in such an emotionally unstable state.
buck up guy. you'll get through it soon, and when you do, i promise you'll be even more confused than when you entered.
promise. welcome back to reality.
---
you're sitting in the men's restroom and the world around your tiny cubicle of momentary comfort is full of men who are urinating, washing, grooming, coughing, and preening.
of course you have to be trying to hide your muffled whimpering; the tears streaming down your flushed cheeks. that tightness in your neck contracting uncontrollably, giving away to deep throaty inhuman, and altogether animalistic soundscapes.
it's nothing new, so why burst into tears now?
all of your pain inexplicably making an appearance at this moment? and so all-of-a-sudden.
naturally it would have to be when surrounded by strangers in a public lavatory, and of course in a location where you cannot hide this man-child sense of bawling by pretending to be having a violent bout of recurring lower intestinal disorders of the worse kind.
no, you are crying in the men's restroom and everyone knows it. how does it feel?
love never felt so far away from you at this moment. nothing was lost but unnecessary hopes. nothing was gained but apparent truths. it's no wonder the world is closing in on you.
you will feel like letting loose and screaming at the top of your lungs to be fair to your natural instincts, but realize that airport security might come to investigate why a bathroom stall is in such an emotionally unstable state.
buck up guy. you'll get through it soon, and when you do, i promise you'll be even more confused than when you entered.
promise. welcome back to reality.
---
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