Friday, June 25, 2010

Dig Deeper

*I do not know what metaphor to stick to; I am a mixed metaphor myself, consistency is one thing you cannot really expect of me. I'm a Scorpio: intense, jealous, passionate, emotional, and sarcastic. If you knew the personality of a Scorpio, you'd be smart to stay away. If I had a world of my own, everything would be nonsense. Nothing would be what it is, because everything would be what it isn't. And contrary wise, what is, it wouldn't be. And what it wouldn't be, it would. You see?
*With my tongue, I transport the head and the bitter taste of the coffee slowly around my mouth, looking out the window into the distance. I needed to be pushed outside of my comfort zone.  I needed to be scared shitless, otherwise what is the point in life? No place is boring, if you've had a good night's sleep and have a pocket full of unexposed film.
*There is a kind of thinking without thinkers.  Matter thinks.  Language thinks. I can't stop.  I get them mixed up. I think in Chifrencglish. I'm trying to spit it out but it's jumbled. "Je parle ."  No, No. I'm sure the professor is thinking, "What the hell is she even saying this is French 302." For this messy situation, the only answer was to combine the two tried-and-true methods.
*History is only a haphazard hopscotch through other present moments.  Who cares what happened a hundred years ago?  Stupid scan-trons.  My 8th grade History teacher was fucking evil.  After every test, the scan-tron machine was wheeled in…the screechy wheels of hell.  In front of the entire class the papers would slide through one by one. Buzzzzzz zip zip zip zip zipppppp buzz… "Natalie, come see me after class."  Shit. Opinions that are derogatory, attack other users, offer unsubstantiated facts or are offensive in nature will be removed.
               *Through art, one could even breed misfits and transform them into a new species. "Just put your charcoal pencil to the paper, it will happen."  Yeah, sure.  You sound so stupid right now.  "Look at the picture, it will speak to you."  With doubt in my mind, my hand swiped the paper rapidly. Sitting around and waiting for action?
*The day was gray, and a constant moisture hung in the air, agitating occasionally into a light rain. The smell of Chengdu hot pot was attacking my cilia.  I knew it would be a random day.  Yes, I have large breasts compared to the stick figured Chinese women, but get over it.  Okay…I tried. I am still trying.  I’m trying to be gracious in the face of adversity. I’m trying to be calm in the storm.
*I find her appetite enormous, for food and for experience; it surpasses mine, and so I (would-be parent) find my child leading me in pursuit of the pleasures of knowledge and the knowledge of pleasures I had not imagined. Each one shouting at the same time about what happened on their vacation. I wish I could go back to that age.  That means our life would still be somewhat up in the air--I'm getting a little tired of that.
*Our sense of who we are is mostly made up of what we remember being.  We are who we were; we are made up of memories. "Dig deeper," she screamed at me. I closed my eyes and started searching my brain for what she wanted, but nothing was there. In like five years or 10 years, we'll have a much better spective on what happened and what's happening, and then we'll give much better interviews. Right now, I don't know what to say except I can't believe it.
* Red hair, suddenly out of a clear blond lineage.  He came rushing out of her birth canal, and was tossed onto her chest.  A blonde hair blue eyed boy came from two dark brown haired, chocolate brown-eyed parents. DNA can't do it alone - but neither can following a paper trail.
*If you want to see the whole, you will have to sew me together yourself.  I'm not going to tell you anything unless it's been a while.  Why should I?  Just so you can take my deepest secrets to someone else.  How do I trust you when it's only been one week?  Stop prying, I'm not doing that to you. I threw the door open; it slammed against the wall with a bang.

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