(no subject)
the Friday before last, when I had Hans and Katt over at my place, we watched Doctor Who together.
today I watched (could not put it off at all) "The Empty Child" and "The Doctor Dances" back-to-back (two parts of the same story, for those who don't know). what good it did me. I wondered if I wanted to make this the best Doctor Who story I have ever seen, bar none. maybe not, but in the top ten.
from this I figured out the purpose of art, I think, to make us into better people. having watched these my nobility and my sense of humor and just my sense of perspective, had gotten a boost and a restoration.
and it gave me something to aspire to as far as Honest John. until the last couple of days I wouldn't have thought that I could do anything like as good and maybe I can't but I have taken a big step towards getting to that other place.
thinking of art as a medium of self-expression seems like something that seems like only part of the story. really I think we have it to help others to express themselves to themselves or something like that.
and dusk had settled in. I walked down the street to the Zine Library say hello to Mothra (jellobiafrascat) and ambush her with cake for her birthday. I showed up. no Mothra.
in the next half hour (or longer?) long story short, I found one. strange to observe how much different you can get treated by different people. treated like a piece of shit in one store ('cause I talked in a goofy fake foreign accent?) and treated like a goddess in another. one male employee seemed to have fallen half in love with me. walking out of there, the sales clerk gave me half off of the already discounted birthday candles. I told her not to do it and she didn't understand me. got a big slice of German chocolate cake, too.
when I arrived at the library I found Mothra still not there so left the cake there for the librarians to eat.
apart from this I ran into several friends today and hung out with them. experienced schadenfreude to a degree that shames me given the seriousness of the topic. and I ended up with the other person aware of it at least subliminally.
anyway, while passing through Harvard Square, the Doctor Who story fresh in my imagination I flashed back to what Frank had said in Harvard Square last Saturday, that I really like to help people. then I began to cry, tears dropping onto my synthetic leather jacket. the jacket did not absorb the moisture of the tears like real leather. the tear just rolled off the material, crystalline and pure, like a bead of rain. we sat across from the site of my arrest which would make it hard for me to teach which I had always want to do. to help. only a few minutes ago did I realize the conjunction of place and emotion.
the last few minutes of "The Doctor Dances" concentrate on the Doctor's helping people. it goes back to the desire to help people emotion.
few things make me more angry than getting denied the chance to help others, because I have had to deal with filling out forms mindnumb to do it. because bureaucratic entities and I recognize each other as natural enemies.
a simple peace that comes from doing what matters to do and not doing what does not matter to you. tomorrow I may feel different and yet today I had a good day.
today I watched (could not put it off at all) "The Empty Child" and "The Doctor Dances" back-to-back (two parts of the same story, for those who don't know). what good it did me. I wondered if I wanted to make this the best Doctor Who story I have ever seen, bar none. maybe not, but in the top ten.
from this I figured out the purpose of art, I think, to make us into better people. having watched these my nobility and my sense of humor and just my sense of perspective, had gotten a boost and a restoration.
and it gave me something to aspire to as far as Honest John. until the last couple of days I wouldn't have thought that I could do anything like as good and maybe I can't but I have taken a big step towards getting to that other place.
thinking of art as a medium of self-expression seems like something that seems like only part of the story. really I think we have it to help others to express themselves to themselves or something like that.
and dusk had settled in. I walked down the street to the Zine Library say hello to Mothra (jellobiafrascat) and ambush her with cake for her birthday. I showed up. no Mothra.
in the next half hour (or longer?) long story short, I found one. strange to observe how much different you can get treated by different people. treated like a piece of shit in one store ('cause I talked in a goofy fake foreign accent?) and treated like a goddess in another. one male employee seemed to have fallen half in love with me. walking out of there, the sales clerk gave me half off of the already discounted birthday candles. I told her not to do it and she didn't understand me. got a big slice of German chocolate cake, too.
when I arrived at the library I found Mothra still not there so left the cake there for the librarians to eat.
apart from this I ran into several friends today and hung out with them. experienced schadenfreude to a degree that shames me given the seriousness of the topic. and I ended up with the other person aware of it at least subliminally.
anyway, while passing through Harvard Square, the Doctor Who story fresh in my imagination I flashed back to what Frank had said in Harvard Square last Saturday, that I really like to help people. then I began to cry, tears dropping onto my synthetic leather jacket. the jacket did not absorb the moisture of the tears like real leather. the tear just rolled off the material, crystalline and pure, like a bead of rain. we sat across from the site of my arrest which would make it hard for me to teach which I had always want to do. to help. only a few minutes ago did I realize the conjunction of place and emotion.
the last few minutes of "The Doctor Dances" concentrate on the Doctor's helping people. it goes back to the desire to help people emotion.
few things make me more angry than getting denied the chance to help others, because I have had to deal with filling out forms mindnumb to do it. because bureaucratic entities and I recognize each other as natural enemies.
a simple peace that comes from doing what matters to do and not doing what does not matter to you. tomorrow I may feel different and yet today I had a good day.