last night would have been a strange day to meet me. i ran the 3/4ths of a mile home from the bus stop as usual, but clasped under an arm, a book of nichola tesla, and gripped in my other hand, a flask of organic maple syrup. of course this is true, it is too strange to be fake. isn't it great when life is more absurd than some absurdism that ( Read more... )

on my way to work, sitting buslike on my buttlike protrusion, a rather fine looking specimen of the female race upon the bus boarded and was towed by the irrevocable magnatism of a little girl. this fine specimen of femaleness was giving the smallstrong magnet her almost attention, the kind that people use for children and underlings when they ( Read more... )

i worked for seven and a half hours today. i even wished some customers a happy thanksgiving, or happy holidays. the thing is, i really didn't care for once. usually when i tell someone to have a nice day, i really hope that they have a nice day. i don't wish bad upon people, it isn't good karma, and jesus might make you muslim just for the fun of ( Read more... )

i get off of work, run to the bus stop to catch the last bus of the night home. at the bus stop a woman who could be a music teacher, hobo, or heroin addict stares at me. a guy bundled up tighter than a toddler in a snowstorm stares at me. i wear no sweater, just a punisher t-shirt and i am feeling the good of the cold on my body. i am not worried ( Read more... )

everyone who reads this needs to go out and pick up a life magazine. there is a pretty decent article in it about pk this weekend, so just go get it. it would only cost you 50 cents, or maybe a dollar. just do it. if you don't know what le parkour is, first feel lots of shame then go to urban freeflow and read to your heart's desire.

the innaneness of livejournal rather annoys me somethimes. i would like to try and not put up posts like, "i went to the store today and bought three cats and a small broom," and, "my life is a burning hole of pain." stuff like that. just one or two sentences about nothing at all in particular. i have a feeling that i will post stuff like that just ( Read more... )

when one thinks about conquering something one thinks of resisting it, outlasting it, beating it into a bloody pulp. i have been thinking lately that death is not something to be beaten, because we are all trying to do that, but something to give in to, to succumb to its lovely vices. i think that death wants you to think that it is a horrible ( Read more... )

i finally did it. i gave into the pressure, succumbed to the will of my peers. i got a live journal. do i still think they are a waste of time? most certainly, but i also think video games are a waste of time, and i play them quite a lot. another question arrises: will i actually post enough on here to make it seem worthwhile to anyone who wishes ( Read more... )