(no subject)

[vicarz]

Does anyone feel like watching the transformers movie tonight at the drunkhouse?

I've decided to partake in human life whether they want me in it or not. Perhaps it's arrogant of me to think. to pretend, that every time I buy or not-buy something that I'm helping the greater good, but I'm going to keep doing it and keep participating and pretending that I'm part of something. I went to my coffee shop, I read the paper and smiled at each joke. I read my book, and smiled at the passages. The author didn't know I'd read this, that I'm me, or when it would occur - or even what I would take from their words. I'm participating post-hoc. The coffee shop was...I could see everyone's stories written on their arms. Everyone had a story, a base, their reasons, their perspective - and some goal, like everyone had a goal they were seeking though they mostly didn't know it. It was written on their arms, each of them. The writing wasn't in english, in letters. A girl with sleeve tattoos was confusing - the writing she had on her arms wasn't the same as what was inked under her skin. I suppose it was her business, and when my head cleared I could see her arm-writing without the ink in the way. All those stories - I looked at my own arms but at first I couldn't see - there are no mirrors. Then I thought they said to look from the inside, but now I think they were just smiling at me. I'm not in a rush. I think I got the message, I'm not supposed to figure out my own story except by figuring it out for myself. I'm not sure I could read it now if I could see it, but I hope I can go in the right direction.

I saw a man looking at me from my window.

I had smells. Coffee. Curry. Those I planned. The dogs I did not. I lifted smell to my mouth, it was ready for information. The dog part was surprising. Coffee-dog? Food-dog? I didn't see the dog's stories at all - they were just being, doing. They speak spoke without words at all - it is easy and hard to understand. There is the picture, but no message or direction. It's easy, but I'm not used to the lack of focus. Purpose? It's not "Let's chew on it," it's just chewing on it. Is that wise or stupid? Both?

Suffer? Art? Today I ran, I felt my pain and ran through it - no, I ran with it. There was no breakthrough, only sheer will continuing to bargain and suffer and demand and push more out of an empty well. Is this the right way? Is it my right way? I tell artists to get real jobs, and the hyper-employed to realize that money isn't worth much. I love that mainstream alternative society has cracked the key that "appreciating irony" is simply a function of failing to appreciate anything for fear of being able to be judged negatively. I love to criticize, something far easier than creation, and it makes sense given my story (the one that wasn't written on my arms). I was mocked, and I cared, and was ashamed of what I had in my life. I choose what I liked based on what other people would think, what they would do. My activities were based on avoiding, getting not-hurt or minimizing the damage. You are what you like - so like nothing so you're not pinned down. I'm not sure what I like. I make myself do things and I'm proud. I have achieved measurable things that I'm proud of, but I'm not sure they're my things at all. Everything I think I might like I can find a reason why it's just another cover, something others like, a defensive mechanism to an end that has outlived its purpose. See, this is the kind of story I saw on other's arms. I'm not that clever - not able to see through me, but sometimes I can guess through other's stories and find pieces of what might be my own. So what do I like? I don't know - I don't know what I like. I know more what I can do, and the how.

Neither is right. Art is a waste, a lack of it is wasteful. Play is practice. It's hard to see through the haze - so much information, but what does it mean? Perhaps it's not supposed to have a final meaning - maybe reading these stories is an activity and that's what you might be supposed to do. No end product, no goal. Just reacting to situations, right, wrong, always another move. Meat?