Mar 23, 2010 17:40
it's one of those things, you're walking along the south face, you look in and you're like, can i touch this, or is it mars? it's so viciously three dimensional it overwhelms any sense of perspective, and you're right on the cusp of some kind of fucking mystical moment when the fucking 67 year old hippie tour guide says something moronic like god revealed herself to me here and you want to scream, you know? you want to shake the righteous old tie dyed prick, but you don't, you just light a cigarette and reflect for a moment on the revelation you almost had, the reason you came here to begin with, and the motherfucker tells you to put the butt in your pocket, and you step out over the edge just to show that fuck, and the air whooshes past your ears, the cherry comets off the top of the marlboro you have clenched between your grimacing teeth, and you plummet into the martian landscape.
that's what it is, falling in love. that what it is these days, every diamond commercial and fucking sandra bullock movie and frank sinatra song all rolled up with whatever neurotic shit your fucked up parents gave you, into an obnoxious old cartoon hippie mediating your delicate approach to an authentic feeling, until you throw yourself onto the jagged red rocks, to find something in the sound of air rushing past your ear canals just before your knees introduce themselves to your teeth at 9.8 meters per second per second and you leave your goddamn butt where you please.
-jm3.10