Wednesday, October 01, 2008

This is how I celebrated my 1 year of no smoking!

It is a strange moment when this is what your friends become. How is it possible that these random vapors escaping your face hole are received and interpreted in a way that I can only conclude you’re talking about history? Who talks about history? How did you acquire this knowledge when everything we do is random and you’re only here because more particles were magnetically attracted long ago to a glob of a baser version of yourself than they did to the nothingness that was beside you?

A collection of guts and bones wrapped in plush skin acting randomly while completely disconnected from the system that allegedly binds us together. It reminds me of a punctured aerosol can rattling loudly against solid objects while ignoring any of the all too apparent mental constructs that filled and failed the room. It just spins and flutters; impervious to any sentiment, devotion or cognitive dependence on those around you. You can will it to stop, but what is will? You could rely upon social norms and precedent, but where has that ever gotten us? Does this feel normal when I put my hands on you and try to still your flailing body? Instead I'll just stare, a body in motion wants to stay that way and there is no friction in the space between us. Ignore these giant strings of theories and etiquette that drape the room, you can pass right through them.

Yet I still can receive this transmission despite my own bizarre and uncontrollable hissing and sputtering.

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