Simulacrums
Again we are at the end of the winter breaking off of school, books, essays, classes, teaching, stresses, rent, bills, cramming, midterms, sections, fucking all.
So that means we start again?
But with the fact that this has become 2009, I am still in 2008. Ringing in the new year, my head buried under pillows as pulsations of pain and sick racked my skull. So I never really made that mental/physical transfer. Writing '09 has lost its novelty, however, so who knows what that means.
I imagine it'll all hit me when I least expect it. When I'm caught in the middle of a crazy moment, a time which only makes sense as one of the future. Continuations of thoughts blooming. I wasn't expecting adventures of paths held up to come around, but they did, and as soon as they did, they closed off. So perhaps further puzzle-pieces like that.
But copperfield's remained as it should. Some customers were dumb as shit, and I could hardly believe they were in my goddamned store. Inventory was RIDICULOUS because guess what, guys? CARNIES CAN'T COUNT. Shouldn't be a surprise. But that's what happens when you get the people from the land of cabbage to check out stock. Luckily, we had a good team holding down, as well as Dave's consistent sighs and head shakes, followed by the discreet under the breath "motherfuckers". That man could work me to the bone and I would still think he's the very best boss. Because he is, my dear chickadees.
W.C. Fields, though certainly a product of his time, has cropped again as another historic genius. The man had a way with words that really tickles the old funny bone. "It's A Gift", "You Can't Cheat An Honest Man", and "The Bank Dick" are all well worth checking out. I cannot even handle when he is dressed as Buffallo Bella and calls his horse Pe-gas-us. And then threatens Charlie McCarthy with the idea with a "couple of beavers to come and romp" with him. Fucking great. Silver screen comedy gems.
I appreciate the greenery outside. It's fitting for this time of the year, which is always my favorite. There's this thing about either loving the season of your birthday or summer the most, but for me, it really is this fall-winter time. The grey skies are more romantic and evocative than any blue blue blue cloudless day. More special perhaps because they are fewer, or maybe because I can be sedentary and "blame" it on the weather.
To experience:
-Wlad and cyberpunk
-KJF and the joys of sci-fi/fantasy
-Bruce Thompson and England
-House of Pi
-Visiting W+S
-concertos
-food
-WRITING WRITING WRITING WRITING
-you
until then, my dulcet delights.
So that means we start again?
But with the fact that this has become 2009, I am still in 2008. Ringing in the new year, my head buried under pillows as pulsations of pain and sick racked my skull. So I never really made that mental/physical transfer. Writing '09 has lost its novelty, however, so who knows what that means.
I imagine it'll all hit me when I least expect it. When I'm caught in the middle of a crazy moment, a time which only makes sense as one of the future. Continuations of thoughts blooming. I wasn't expecting adventures of paths held up to come around, but they did, and as soon as they did, they closed off. So perhaps further puzzle-pieces like that.
But copperfield's remained as it should. Some customers were dumb as shit, and I could hardly believe they were in my goddamned store. Inventory was RIDICULOUS because guess what, guys? CARNIES CAN'T COUNT. Shouldn't be a surprise. But that's what happens when you get the people from the land of cabbage to check out stock. Luckily, we had a good team holding down, as well as Dave's consistent sighs and head shakes, followed by the discreet under the breath "motherfuckers". That man could work me to the bone and I would still think he's the very best boss. Because he is, my dear chickadees.
W.C. Fields, though certainly a product of his time, has cropped again as another historic genius. The man had a way with words that really tickles the old funny bone. "It's A Gift", "You Can't Cheat An Honest Man", and "The Bank Dick" are all well worth checking out. I cannot even handle when he is dressed as Buffallo Bella and calls his horse Pe-gas-us. And then threatens Charlie McCarthy with the idea with a "couple of beavers to come and romp" with him. Fucking great. Silver screen comedy gems.
I appreciate the greenery outside. It's fitting for this time of the year, which is always my favorite. There's this thing about either loving the season of your birthday or summer the most, but for me, it really is this fall-winter time. The grey skies are more romantic and evocative than any blue blue blue cloudless day. More special perhaps because they are fewer, or maybe because I can be sedentary and "blame" it on the weather.
To experience:
-Wlad and cyberpunk
-KJF and the joys of sci-fi/fantasy
-Bruce Thompson and England
-House of Pi
-Visiting W+S
-concertos
-food
-WRITING WRITING WRITING WRITING
-you
until then, my dulcet delights.