I’m in here looking out. Looking out at the grass fields. This could almost be a golf course, this campus. C. is downstairs or somewhere in this building watching an old silent film for a class assignment. I would have joined her, but I felt like doing my own thing for a little bit, as I have plenty of stuff to read these days, comics, and new books that have come in from my birthday gift certificate spree.
I plan to dig deeper into this Seven Soldiers thing. We are all “geeks” about one thing or another. It’s all fine with me. Comic geek. Web browsing geek. Tivo geek. Geek at the mailbox. Corner store geek. Enthusiasts, show me your geek cards. I’m card carrying, it is Saturday, and… I’m intrigued by the Sheedas, the small mosquito warriors that are popping in and out of the Seven Soldiers saga, the bad guys who will bring all realities down into darkness and annihilation. Maybe they are responsible for the Marburg virus.
C. trips me out. Said she fast forwarded through most of the movie since it was silent. Some parts she went x4. This symbolizes her entire span. She just blazes through with honors and I wonder how she does it. I’ve always been the slow kid. Well, slower. She’s the rembrandt. I sometimes envy it but at the same time recognize my own strengths. We round each other out.
It is cold today, will be cold tomorrow and the next. If I could send a letter, I would. Dear Weather, please get your shit together. This is not consistent. Oh well. I suppose I can be patient. I realize you have a lot on your plate with us humans causing the destruction of the planet and all.
Wow, this blog thing is strange. I was doing zines back in the day and I guess I never suspected writing for the common folk would blow up like this and become so easy. Now that it has, I find I have a bunch of journals to juggle through and don’t always get to them all. It’s almost information overload. I have mixed emotions like… why would someone be interested in reading such small notes about nothing? (Maybe for the same reason we’re interested in, I don’t know, Seinfeld?) My argument is… hey, this is my journal, this is what I’m trying to do with my life; if you’re interested, come on in. I’m trying to increase the quality of my thoughts, the quality of life, and ernestly feel compassion for people. Which brings to mind: anyone who is interested in politics should begin with compassion. Think beyond yourself. See how you connect with other people, with animals, with other things. Activists, be philosophers. Everyone, rise up, become philosophers.
Headache whipping in the air like a flag. My friend shows me photographs from this bike race down in Georgia. On his way back stops off in Ashville, NC, same size as this town, he says, but much cooler. In about five weeks, we will finally be moving to Houston.