different medium

not happy this morning. the cute girl at the coffee shop has been giving me free donuts and upgrades to large coffee for the past two weeks for some reason. Problem is, i have trouble breaking the ice. She came over to me and tried to have some small talk one morning. The emotion is there but the words were not and I am pissed, because I am now downgraded to medium again.

and shes cute too. fuck. why can't i just be like, 'hey i think you're cute can i have your number?'

To devour her mouth, to press on her tongue. To swallow her scent and savor her lips like candy.


also, the data jacket. an idea in progress.

America 2.9

So I'm playing around with this idea. A conversation on race, privilege, and change I have been watching from the sidelines. Occasionally, I would jump in and have a round or two myself. The idea is about a reboot, a point of reconciliation and awareness that allows people in America to assume a mature relational standpoint on race and racial existence in this country.

Class divsion has been a fact of "civilization", probably long before air quotes had been "invented". The haves and the have-nots, the want-mores and the have-mores, the history of the known world is rife with examples of how this almost basic result of social grouping has been the catalyst for explosive change. The division has also been the scaffolding that has over time built civilization up to its current heights, skyscrapers of strain, hope, sweat, tears, and sheer practicality. This division seems to be both the engine that drives civilization, and the terrible beast that stalks it. Occasionally the engine will stall, slowing progress and allowing that beast to catch up. Or the engine siezes, at best giving everyone a Category 5 dosage of reality, or at worst a global dissonance as the wracked din of its own terrible reckoning. Humanity as its own best friend and worst enemy, or in theological terms, more of the same.

the Message

I glanced down at my feet. Coins that I had dropped at random over days, they had taken on a shape. A near perfect pentagon. Now I'm not the best at this, having not been formally trained, but the coin marking east was a shiny penny. And about a foot length further southeast was another penny, sort of inline with where my house appears on maps.(I noted as the morning sun rises through my east sitting window...) The pennies seem to mark the path of the sun, because there is one westward too. Now directly west of the pentagon is a quarter, the only one. I suppose the message must be, 'go West, young man'.

well the interview Is west. a vote of confidence perhaps? i know I need more practice at reading these things.

real gone kid

pardon my blankness..half the time i'm so out of it,wasted,busy that i forget i own this thing.

i do, however, see the potential for improvement in the near future.