i have major research to do for design ideas...for 116's new beer pong table, so these thoughts are going to be scattered and far less than profound.
a few things about friends first.
i'm so happy cuz today i found my friends
vanilla sky
probably thom yorke
why. why must some find friends as shallow play things? Superficial, ungracious, fake plastic friends. is it scar tissue? obnoxious feminists just really got stood up on prom night? the angry guitarist had an acne problem and got rejected by his true love in the third grade? i just wonder why. because friends, as people, are great.
i have comparison problems. i went to see steve and fish tonight. as soon as i walked through the door i felt it coming. Feelings of misplacement, inadequacy, stifled by awe of gods at work. They're only human, but they're really really good at being human...you know, really good with brains and thumbs.
There are some that challenge you and some that take care of you. I haven't had a female friend in awhile, at least not one i saw on an everyday basis and surely not four at the same time. I just have trouble figuring out why i find that the ones that challenge me are the ones that make me feel insecure and the ones that make me feel insecure are men. (Besides the obvious, damnit, that chick is so much hotter than me...which really isn't a challenge, but rather a simple statement of fact. opinion. ok fuck it, its just all whacked perspective) ANYWAY...does this teeter on the biological makeup conversation megs? Are we back there? Should we just accept? Appreciate the way a woman will care for anything that breathes and accept that we're looking for men to help bring us out of the dream we've been drowning in? I'm not talking about love, im talking about art.
To stop where i started, im thankful. I'm thankful that amy and neely and amanda and meredith are here everyday...to ask me how work was, to know my birthday, to just chat, simply, like the weather. i'm thankful that fish and steve and johnny are insanely intense and to use johnny's term of phrase...like disjunctive electronic music that stimulates parts of my brain that i dont get to use everyday. im revved up. thank you.
there are moments that pause when i think of all the things ive done, all the things i do, and all the things i will do. i feel a soft wash of pride. but i cannot help that i desire to be everything; to see everyone and and crave to do it too.
245 babies are born worldwide every 60 seconds
245x60min = 14,700 babies/hr
14,700x24hrs = 352,800 babies/day
352,800x365days = 128,772,000 babies/year
that's a lot of fucking inspiration
i did the same multistep last night with the money i might make.
perhaps this is the difference between inspiration and self-deprecation.
but
pain art life
lovely.
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Your blog makes me see that even on the Internet, where people can type into space and rerereinvent themselves, that YOU are YOU no matter what you do. it's the same old thing i've always said -- that look in early pictures of you. you just can't do anything about it.
you're just so very much like that vintage couch set -- so very, very lovely sitting in the yard among the Budweiser signs and crusty old lamps. but you're like that vintage couch set if the man had sense enough to sell it for an unpretentious price. but THE MAN clearly has no sense, as we all know.
yes. i think yes. and no. about the biology thing. because every time i hear the biology argument -- even when i'm using it -- i hear a british narrator on a nature show, saying, "predator ... and prey" as the lions chase antelope or some such shit.
we've evolved and all that crap, and we live comfortably enough to let our survival "instincts" warp and morph. and so in the end it's like selective biology. there's definitely some psychology in there. that's why we've got so many biology hybrids -- the sensitive guy, blah blah blah.
but, yeah, i suppose we could just say that women end all of their sentences with question marks.
and leave it at that.
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