watch out, I will whip you with my bad tween poetry
I am feeling restless and driven. California makes me want to be a star, which is weird because I'm in Northern California and stars roughly translate to "good-looking well-off hippies" in the Sebastopol context. I am slowly but surely becoming totally fine with this, though, being well-hydrated and thinking about fasting, feeling bizarre in my sport coats with pins on them and opting for hoodies instead.
I've decided that I would really like to start studying a martial art. I'm most interested in Krav Maga - it seems the most straightforward, mostly because it removes any pretext of being spirit- or energy-oriented and is just the science of beating the shit out of someone. Other interesting arts to me include Pokoelan, Budokon, and Escrima (after all, who doesen't want to learn how to fight with whips?). However, the most interesting option I've found offered in Olympia is Jujutsu, which I'll probably take through Blake Lake Jujutsu. This is assuming 1) I have the money 2) I have the time 3) I don't decide I want to spend the money and time on hot yoga instead. Or, for that matter, that I don't decide to just buy a whip and spend my time in the backyard learning how to attack things. OK, I now have a summer project.
Oh Christmastime. I am trying to get into some sort of spirit, giving things to those in need, having gratitude for my family and their marvels. I am leaving myself open and trusting that it happens quickly.
And due to the magic and wonder of idle googling of my name, I discovered a marvelous and profoundly embarassing thing: a poem I wrote when I was thirteen. I almost cried with joy when I found it, because I remember how proud of it I was, how deep and clever it seemed to me. Um, yeah.
And that dark suture there
is
like
coral
jagged
and
b E a U t I f Ul
in the swirling sense of what
IS
not
Beautiful
to those who wish
for a dark DEAR
heart in
this
city.
this
green
druggy
night
space.
I've decided that I would really like to start studying a martial art. I'm most interested in Krav Maga - it seems the most straightforward, mostly because it removes any pretext of being spirit- or energy-oriented and is just the science of beating the shit out of someone. Other interesting arts to me include Pokoelan, Budokon, and Escrima (after all, who doesen't want to learn how to fight with whips?). However, the most interesting option I've found offered in Olympia is Jujutsu, which I'll probably take through Blake Lake Jujutsu. This is assuming 1) I have the money 2) I have the time 3) I don't decide I want to spend the money and time on hot yoga instead. Or, for that matter, that I don't decide to just buy a whip and spend my time in the backyard learning how to attack things. OK, I now have a summer project.
Oh Christmastime. I am trying to get into some sort of spirit, giving things to those in need, having gratitude for my family and their marvels. I am leaving myself open and trusting that it happens quickly.
And due to the magic and wonder of idle googling of my name, I discovered a marvelous and profoundly embarassing thing: a poem I wrote when I was thirteen. I almost cried with joy when I found it, because I remember how proud of it I was, how deep and clever it seemed to me. Um, yeah.
And that dark suture there
is
like
coral
jagged
and
b E a U t I f Ul
in the swirling sense of what
IS
not
Beautiful
to those who wish
for a dark DEAR
heart in
this
city.
this
green
druggy
night
space.