(no subject)
i hate when people dumb down conversation to the most trivial of topics, such as discussing the weather.
man, is it cold out there. luckily, it's a clear night, not that you can tell in the city where the night sky is represented by that familiar vomit-orange, and accordingly, not breezy. it's best when the low temperature doesn't assault you.
but no, really, the rub about talking about the weather is how badly the cold conditions shape the course not just of dialogue, but all human interaction. "cabin fever" is the most extreme example of the disconnect the weather creates, but luckily, not all of us can be like mister grady and murder every occupant at the overlook hotel. one peculiar aspect of everyone wanting to hibernate under a heat lamp goes as such: we forget how the hell to BE the social creatures nature demands of us. you probably notice this yourself (or IN yourself), the wacky way folks will become caricatures of who they are when casual comfort isn't so fucked. often one will latch on to benign personality quirks and explode them, talking about the weather when, goddamn, aren't we normally philosophers? one aspect of my own personality, the muttering artfag, has become distressingly multidimensional as my hand cramps up from all the crosshatching set to paper. "HAY BEN, WHAT'S NEW?" "WELL I HAVE A BUNCH OF MICRON PENS HERE, AND WHAT YOU MIGHT NOT REALIZE IS HOW SUBTLE DIFFERENCES ARISE WHEN YOU HOLD IT AT A SLIGHTLY HIGHER ELEVATION, AND WAIT A MINUTE....WHAT?! ONE OF THESE PENS IS MISSING! MISSING!! JUMPING JESUS, SOMEBODY STOLE IT!! DID YOU? HUH? DID YOU?? MIGHTY COCKSUCKING TITWADS, PENS PENS PENS, I NEEDS THE PENS, ESPECIALLY THE .005s, LORD, THE .005s".....and so on into oblivion. these months are truly the bowels of the year. i look forward to less arbitrarily strained conversement when the earth's axis tilts more in the sun's favor, come spring, assuming i don't spaz myself off a cliff.
this is not to say that anybody i know is truly insane, with the need of a scarf being the root cause, but at the moment much human interaction is fuzzy. scraggly. shower drain-hairy. casually fuck-all nuts. if you don't understand, then you're all the worse off.
simple comforts bring orgiastic rewards. tonight brought a plate of fries and a pint of scrimshaw. it warmed me up enough to sit around with lilith, her boyfriend and her ferrets. yet earlier brought a brief visit with dustin and tiffany, although they desired to pass out early. which is quite unfortunate, since their company is so enjoyed. earlier still brought coffeehouse revelry and hellos with acquaintances. (i think i talked about pens.)
in the larger scheme of things, there is a horrible laundry list of things i need to do. not merely accomplish, but BEGIN. there continues to be a growing bit of genuine bile in me, things that could constitute a very genuine misanthropy, alongside the awareness of the source: stagnation, restlessness. almost never have i made a major decision from any reason save for sheer necessity, but whatever feelings lurk in my brain are coming close to it. after all this "hibernation," 2009 will become a transitional year, spatially where '08 was mentally. it seems increasingly so, that to be in a psychologically better place is to relocate to one.
man, is it cold out there. luckily, it's a clear night, not that you can tell in the city where the night sky is represented by that familiar vomit-orange, and accordingly, not breezy. it's best when the low temperature doesn't assault you.
but no, really, the rub about talking about the weather is how badly the cold conditions shape the course not just of dialogue, but all human interaction. "cabin fever" is the most extreme example of the disconnect the weather creates, but luckily, not all of us can be like mister grady and murder every occupant at the overlook hotel. one peculiar aspect of everyone wanting to hibernate under a heat lamp goes as such: we forget how the hell to BE the social creatures nature demands of us. you probably notice this yourself (or IN yourself), the wacky way folks will become caricatures of who they are when casual comfort isn't so fucked. often one will latch on to benign personality quirks and explode them, talking about the weather when, goddamn, aren't we normally philosophers? one aspect of my own personality, the muttering artfag, has become distressingly multidimensional as my hand cramps up from all the crosshatching set to paper. "HAY BEN, WHAT'S NEW?" "WELL I HAVE A BUNCH OF MICRON PENS HERE, AND WHAT YOU MIGHT NOT REALIZE IS HOW SUBTLE DIFFERENCES ARISE WHEN YOU HOLD IT AT A SLIGHTLY HIGHER ELEVATION, AND WAIT A MINUTE....WHAT?! ONE OF THESE PENS IS MISSING! MISSING!! JUMPING JESUS, SOMEBODY STOLE IT!! DID YOU? HUH? DID YOU?? MIGHTY COCKSUCKING TITWADS, PENS PENS PENS, I NEEDS THE PENS, ESPECIALLY THE .005s, LORD, THE .005s".....and so on into oblivion. these months are truly the bowels of the year. i look forward to less arbitrarily strained conversement when the earth's axis tilts more in the sun's favor, come spring, assuming i don't spaz myself off a cliff.
this is not to say that anybody i know is truly insane, with the need of a scarf being the root cause, but at the moment much human interaction is fuzzy. scraggly. shower drain-hairy. casually fuck-all nuts. if you don't understand, then you're all the worse off.
simple comforts bring orgiastic rewards. tonight brought a plate of fries and a pint of scrimshaw. it warmed me up enough to sit around with lilith, her boyfriend and her ferrets. yet earlier brought a brief visit with dustin and tiffany, although they desired to pass out early. which is quite unfortunate, since their company is so enjoyed. earlier still brought coffeehouse revelry and hellos with acquaintances. (i think i talked about pens.)
in the larger scheme of things, there is a horrible laundry list of things i need to do. not merely accomplish, but BEGIN. there continues to be a growing bit of genuine bile in me, things that could constitute a very genuine misanthropy, alongside the awareness of the source: stagnation, restlessness. almost never have i made a major decision from any reason save for sheer necessity, but whatever feelings lurk in my brain are coming close to it. after all this "hibernation," 2009 will become a transitional year, spatially where '08 was mentally. it seems increasingly so, that to be in a psychologically better place is to relocate to one.