(no subject)
"you should see them next door, with the transmission on the dining room table, todd and ted rebuilding it. and rebuilding it because it's so damn interesting, their eyes with a real joy in them. like little kids, i guess you could say. kids with a new toy. exept i think this is not kid like at all, joy and exitement and wonder- not kid qualities only.
they are fixing it because they want to and because they can, not like the way i started learning to fix cars, with this dogma, this language that said something along the lines of 'we have become dependent on machines that we don't understand, a mechanized alienation by the products in our lives and we must demystify the inner workings or crush them.' either that or 'we must break down the class division between the people who use the machines and the people who fix them'. whatever. there's some validity in there, but i like the joy and curiosity better.
transmission on the table, and in one room, someone learning, alone, hot to fix coaster breaks. in another room the tapping of typewriter keys. in one, pen on paper. these are my neighbors. some of them. one of them is learning to build a banjo. he says he'll make me one next if he ever really does it. and me, i have just been learning to play.
(and) underneath the sad, and the feeling of never enough, of incompletion. this is more than i ever would have expected i could get..." - doris #18
they are fixing it because they want to and because they can, not like the way i started learning to fix cars, with this dogma, this language that said something along the lines of 'we have become dependent on machines that we don't understand, a mechanized alienation by the products in our lives and we must demystify the inner workings or crush them.' either that or 'we must break down the class division between the people who use the machines and the people who fix them'. whatever. there's some validity in there, but i like the joy and curiosity better.
transmission on the table, and in one room, someone learning, alone, hot to fix coaster breaks. in another room the tapping of typewriter keys. in one, pen on paper. these are my neighbors. some of them. one of them is learning to build a banjo. he says he'll make me one next if he ever really does it. and me, i have just been learning to play.
(and) underneath the sad, and the feeling of never enough, of incompletion. this is more than i ever would have expected i could get..." - doris #18