defective mechanisms. this is the first part to write. from the factory came a package, and inside a disappointment. some are born defective children, can’t hear or see, can’t walk, can’t look normal, can’t fit in. defective parts, somehow, someway. good parts go bad. from bad decisions good times turn sour. a rose received lasts a short life, and you know this. but with all the affection, the intention, it is worth the world. and what little I know of the world. if you travel it probably helps. my perspective is narrowed because my problems are encased. make attempts to vacation out, even if for just a block, a block into the unknown day. pierce the monotony. like I was saying, I walked north up 16th into my old neighborhood, watched ducks, watched a game of soccer. it was worth the world.
I know my heart and lungs and back and knees better than other parts because they all hurt. if green tea will help, then I say order me a case, ’cause that stuff rocks. neighborhoods in the summer have a special feel. when you go out and bring a green tea back, when the air conditioner is running . . . that is summer. a movie playing. yes, the sound of the air conditioner, these comforts, attachments, etc. how can any one person not have attachments? it is just that you can’t be a kid any more, to a degree, at a certain point. don’t be destroyed like a brat when it’s time to let go. that’s what I’m saying. don’t expect things. don’t expect good things to happen to you. don’t think you deserve a lot. the world is too big and overpopulated to be treated like royalty. hope to love people, to find something you love doing, something that will have you lost in time up until the very moment of death practically.
is it a story, a joke, reality, what? do you laugh, or do you cry. I swear, I’m exhausted, exasperated. I can’t believe how thoughtless some people can be. when they’re thoughtless, they’re rude. maybe they need a good slap. I’m waiting for someone to do it. that’s what I’m impatient about, because I’m a take charge kind of guy. if you want to do it right, you gotta do it yourself. red hand prints on face. I say I am not the one for that. but I’m not timid either. I’ve got my theories for the most practical things. it’s all beyond high school shyness. I challenge myself more. I’m not worried if I come off rude pushing my way through on the subway. I’ve got my own theory on it. the place is a real madhouse. it’s not like a goddamn tea party or something. just get out of people’s way and get going. if you bump around a little, don’t get all upset about it. don’t let them get upset. yes, cut through the crowds and get there.
my cat is a lion right now. my wife is annoyed with Windows 98. who could blame her? soon to be a 24 year old, she declares the whole month her birthday like a princess. we joke a lot. it is spite for the work world and the old generation of people like our parents and those who take PTA meetings seriously.
video. audio. what I see and feel and hear and imagine, I have to attempt to express this through the tech world with the risk of becoming a tech head myself… as if it’s a swap. or can I hold all of it and not be a robot? I tend to think I can hold all of it, be human as well as retain skills to operate generators and sequencers and processors and whatever else. today I insisted on learning the rest of the process to create 35mm slides in the lab, and I got somewhere. who else will make the effort? for a moment I was proud of myself, for a long while I was. then it was time to leave and I couldn’t be giddy and talkative any more, and I knew it. I knew perhaps I was becoming overconfident and making a fool of myself, or at least on the verge of it. I carefully stared down to the sidewalk and crossed streets home thinking this, I’m alone now, I’m all alone now. I have to completely impress myself now.