When the bed bugs come biting at night, it isn’t an unfortunate event, its one part omen and three parts steamed soy. Not all the: ikea beds, state of the art espresso makers, giant stuffed teddy bears, prescription-less glasses, antique picture frames, books you’ll never read, bikes you’ll never ride and records you’ll never care about, in the city will ever fill up that cold, empty and beating loft apartment. You’re just gonna have that bedbug problem you don’t know how to get rid of.
These omens happen when you cast away those who don’t fear the things you do. Like a charm or an Indian dream catcher, they were responsible for removing those fears from you in the first place. Don’t employ them because of their aesthetics, employ them for their necessities.
They say you can’t love anyone else unless you love yourself. However, if you love yourself too much, you wont love anyone else. It’s all part of a facade where you mimic those who are capable of loving but know deep down you’ll care about no one else. Routes of extremities are sometimes taken to earn love for yourself, but if you can’t even love yourself for who you are, then is it even real?
We live in a giant painting we call reality, and what’s sad is that this painting is alive. Evolutionary and evolving into an abstract. Lines and borders are crossed and we justify it with artsy fartsy bullshit that sounds as fancy as we want to look. Abstract paintings never made any sense to me, nor does it invoke my will to yearn for it. “Savage milk,” are you kidding me?
If you walk with no protection on your feet, it always tracks dirt. That’s because the world is filthy. We advance our lives like we wear our shoes, all different kinds for every occasion. Occasionally, someone steps on our feet, sometimes accidentally, sometimes with a thunderous stomp, intensity like lighting.
If we all could be barefoot for one day, we’d take care not to step on each others feet. We wouldn’t leave sharp objects on the ground. We’d still track dirt, but we’ll do it together, then wash them together, as equals.
Have we visited the tortoise and the hare lately? What have those guys been up to? It seems as though they’ve been on an interminable tea-time. Morals and lessons of life are on a lunchbreak. They used to say, slow and steady wins the race, but the generation we’re left with aspires to live fast and furiously.
Big changes can come from small steps, but no one will help us if we don’t help ourselves.
I love the way the land looks after dark. Not a city for miles. Just my tent, mountains, grass, bushes, rocks, and even dirt, bathed in moonlight with a blue tint. In some lucky angles, silver. I can hear rustling from unknown animals fading away, perhaps more afraid of me than I, them. Never confront a wildbeast, just carry on as if their roars are as brief and brisk as the wind, like another star in the sky you’re probably not going to see again.