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boring blogs
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i'm pretty sure that yesterday's public navel gazing blog qualifies as one such blog.

ready for me to go meta on that baby?

i perceive that on days when i feel overwhelmed by life and busyness etc.. (wednesdays it always reaches its peak/pique) NOT ONLY do I:

1. only feel and stop thinking,

but I also,

2. obsess over my own experience / feelings-about-the-experience,

and I also,

3. feel more need than ever for HUMAN CONTACT --

and the blog is an obvious opportunity to get some parasocial gratification.

And thus I conclude an even more solipsistic entry than the one before.

But I think its a little less boring? Or is that just because public disclosure of feelings is boring?

And that, or course, public consideration of the implications and ramifications public disclosure of feelings is not at all boring....?

in any case, thursday has brought me much more --

peace~

i think that i've realized that when i get really really busy (see last post), I don't really have anything simmering on the back burner -- I mean I don't forget all of the things that are or were there -- it's more like I just experience life as this huge undifferentiated mass. I feel about everything, I think only about the one single thing that is on my exactly front burner.

One of my goals for this semester was to FEEL MORE, think less.

It's happening, but I think maybe I wanted to have kind of a think-about-feeling experience more than a straight feeling experience.

so how exactly am i to interpret Jewel's maxim, to "follow your heart, your intuition -- it will lead you in the right direction," on days like this when -- following my heart will lead me -- to bed. to go to sleep. is that the right direction?

...
2 things i hate (besides drop ceilings):
...

1. people who have an external locus of control all the time.

2. people who are always talking about how busy they are.

so i think i could stop hating myself if everyone would just stop with the:

"how are you?"

it's not my fault i'm so honest.

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Don't forget to vote!
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what might have happened if my forbearers would have headed to Kansas instead of the Upper Peninsula of Michigan.

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what if time is actually going backwards and in the beginning were paper clips and engines and robots and we start our lives old and abandoned in urine-smelling nursing homes but we get to die as babies warm and snuggled by people halfway through their own lives...?

what if the robots and the paperclips figured out a way to make us think that we're experiencing it the other way -- and really our life fource is flowing not from the grass and the trees and the air and food, but from landfills and sewers trash cans full of used floss and discarded q-tips?

and their greatest invention is organic reality: trees and squirrels and sunsets and all?

and of course ultimately an even greater invention of theirs is stories and creation myths and God.

In any case, i don't think I'd do anything differently.

(not that I could if I would)

not drunk or stoned, just tired of grading -- i bid you --

~peace.

ambivalent luck

just before midnight on halloween night, i was walking across the parking lot in Marietta Ohio bringing two styrofoam cups of orange juice to Bemis & Scott Bell, noticing how the half moon had grown large and looked like an overripe precarious bit of orange fruit, about to fall off an overtaxed and invisible branch down toward the blue steel bridge which would definitely shatter into a hundred shards into the Ohio River. Just then a very small, completely black kitten ran across the parking lot and the cement sidewalk. There was no turning back. If I were to go to my hotel room at all, ever that night, I would have to stay on the path which had now been crossed by a small black cat.

But what is the significance of a black Kitten crossing your path? Certainly not seven years of bad luck? The very kittenness of the cat must either reverse the effects making it seven years of good luck or make the badluck stick for life.

Asian beetles are flying into my office window, but I'm not going to close it. The day is just too beautiful and the mobile Greg Snell & Bev Matiko made for me is whirling in this delightful slow arc over my green metal 1960-something Steelcase desk. It makes grading these persuasion papers a great deal more tolerable.

Have I ever mentioned on this blog that I hate grading?

That and drop ceilings.

~Peace.