Brain Drippings
So two seconds off the ship. I love this place. For one I can actually use lj. That should say something about where I'm at. Some douche decides that lj is improper, happens to be the sole systems admin and it locks down. No appeal no argument. But now we're at port, where less rules apply.
Ha ha.
Speaking of no rules, between the whiskey, the beer, the sushi and the absynthe I am, well, umm, floating. Everything is good. Everyone is a unique butterfly loved by a cosmic deity looking over us all. Till tomorrow morning when life is shit and I'm worshipping the porcelein god.
Are we just the sum of our impulses? Are we nothing more than reaction to stimulations?
All these and more questions answered! Just put 25 cents into the receptical and come right in!
Figure this out. Drinking age is 16. Age of consent is 18. Umm. 2 years of jailbait? I've stopped asking age. Decided that hitting on every female that moves must be the right response. So really, it's not much different than my life. Only more insistant because we're here for about half a second.
Malta is amazing. I remember coming into port and seeing nothing but ships. I go under. When I come up again we are at port and are surrounded by ancient fortifications. Buildings that were put up long ago. Current residents nothing more than a blip in the radar. They put up their signs for whom they are; advertise space for rent; but are just temporary inhabitants of a stream of history. I wish I could know this place. I wish I could know every street. It is thick with history and life. But I can't. Between a pilgramage (for what else could it be) to Toulon, how could I spend so much time here that I know the place? How can I absorb its movements and its ways? I have only seen a glimpse and it seems so very inconsequential. I wish I had more than my alloted years.
Disclaimer: The following paragraph makes absolute sense to the author. There are aspects that you are certain not to understand. Unless you are one who ignores all disclaimers?
Ha ha.
Speaking of no rules, between the whiskey, the beer, the sushi and the absynthe I am, well, umm, floating. Everything is good. Everyone is a unique butterfly loved by a cosmic deity looking over us all. Till tomorrow morning when life is shit and I'm worshipping the porcelein god.
Are we just the sum of our impulses? Are we nothing more than reaction to stimulations?
All these and more questions answered! Just put 25 cents into the receptical and come right in!
Figure this out. Drinking age is 16. Age of consent is 18. Umm. 2 years of jailbait? I've stopped asking age. Decided that hitting on every female that moves must be the right response. So really, it's not much different than my life. Only more insistant because we're here for about half a second.
Malta is amazing. I remember coming into port and seeing nothing but ships. I go under. When I come up again we are at port and are surrounded by ancient fortifications. Buildings that were put up long ago. Current residents nothing more than a blip in the radar. They put up their signs for whom they are; advertise space for rent; but are just temporary inhabitants of a stream of history. I wish I could know this place. I wish I could know every street. It is thick with history and life. But I can't. Between a pilgramage (for what else could it be) to Toulon, how could I spend so much time here that I know the place? How can I absorb its movements and its ways? I have only seen a glimpse and it seems so very inconsequential. I wish I had more than my alloted years.
Disclaimer: The following paragraph makes absolute sense to the author. There are aspects that you are certain not to understand. Unless you are one who ignores all disclaimers?