Thursday, December 16, 2010
i would like to say that men are not pigs, but thats only because human males have a significant amount of differences from pigs, genetically. the male species of homo sapiens, however, sure can be dicks!
but pigs can be men, too. they like to eat and fuck like the rest of us, but they do just enough to get by. never will they take more than they need nor destroy planet earth with their goings on. and they will be around here a lot longer than we will--when is the last time you saw a pig drop a nuke on another pig because that pig had lots of what the pig wanted?
Wednesday, September 22, 2010
Saturday, September 11, 2010
Sunday, August 29, 2010
Tuesday, June 29, 2010
Saturday, May 29, 2010
Monday, May 10, 2010
When a meteor could turn this planet into space dust at any minute, does it really matter who owns what and how much?
“I thank you for your attention.” - KV
Sunday, February 21, 2010
at this very moment, i am in a state of indescribable, curious peace, whose origin is debatable. i cannot explain how i feel except with the word, “ethereal”. and yes. i know this seems to happen to me a lot.
my best guess is that this peace results from the current state of my immediate environment, and the immediate circumstances of the day. it is sunny out, with intermittent clouds. how wonderful is that? moreover, it is nearly 40 degrees outside and the wind is barely strong enough to generate a light breeze. because of these meteorological conditions, i have decided to open the windows—and to keep them open.
as the cool, fresh air pours into my apartment, the thick, stale air of a winter passed is forced out—and it certainly is welcome to. as the cool, fresh air pours into my apartment, the particular scent that is the city of albany fills my nostrils for an extended period of time for the first time since the winter chill forced me almost permanently indoors for the season. i detest being stripped of the freedom of being able to go outdoors and take a walk, sit out in the sun and read—to enjoy that fresh air.
it is with a heavy heart that i accept the coming of the winter each year, for i suffer tremendously from seasonal depression. the sun bids us good night before the working day even ends. the air is chilled so low that everything organic seems to slow to a molecular halt. it is all so disheartening.
but now, with daylight savings a mere three weeks away—and the spring equinox only a week beyond that—the sun stays up later, providing that skin- and sprit-warming light. and it is of a survivable temperature outdoors.
keeping in mind the beginning of the transition between winter and spring, i think it is the feeling of the breeze through my windows, the sound of the outdoors flooding my ears—the smell of the fresh air—that has got my brain all abuzz. abuzz with the knowledge that warmer air and longer days are upon me. abuzz because this scent that my brain is encountering for the first time in a long time has it delving into and swimming through all of the good memories that this air reminds it of—be they of springtime or not.
this has no witty conclusion. there was no wit in this post. i was merely motivated after months of perpetual silence to deduce in typed words why i was feeling how i was—and i felt like sharing it—why not?
and i have come to that conclusion now.
and i am happy.
Sunday, January 10, 2010
part I: pacific sunwear.
it would seem that in mere hours, every reflective surface i peer into is contaminated by things that i thought would work—things that were supposed to make me happy—content with both myself and my surroundings. i try too hard—far too hard, i know i do—to assimilate the images forced down my throat. i am never an original construction. my existence is a haphazard assortment of items that i can barely afford—slapped together with vanity.
i am a fool.
part II: the death of cynicism in exchange for a tired heart
i have been a champion for some time now of anti-relationship notions, and pretty much anti-anything-having-to-do-with-other-human-beings notions. but nothing ever lasts half as long as you hope that it will. this—too—is no different. some may call it natural for a lone human being to desire human contact—human contact of a particular kind. oh certainly—i have finally started making friends in albany and am enjoying my developing social life there—but that is not quite what i am talking about. admittedly—and painfully so—i am talking about the peculiar desire one may feel when they long for a friend. a mate. a significant other. a girlfriend. call, it what you will. it comes with great scathing to my immense sense of pride in my independence that i say this—bring this up—even dare to think about it. i try not to, for i had myself convinced for a very long time that it was hopelessly and inexplicably irrelevant. it still is. but apparently that doesnt seem to matter anymore. i am doing nothing to remedy these desires in way of satisfying them—that is more hopeless in and of itself than its very existence. it is pointless. and therein lies the problem. it is a problem one has no control over because one cannot—hard as they try—govern the way in which human beings bounce around planet earth and into each other.
thus, i am left to contemplate these odd desires while not being able to do anything about them except wonder where i have recently went wrong that i am no longer satisfied being entirely alone.
i betray myself.
and whats worse: i dont even have the capacity to engage even if it were right in front of my face.
so what the fuck.