Black, white, black, white, black, white; and in the shape of an oval, the size of a quarter... a quarter of ovalish shape. Better than a quarter, the symbolism of yes/no & good/bad was much stronger. If Batmans nemesis two-face could have a symbol for his decisions, for the arbitratrary choices we make, this rock of my youth was his imperfect silver dollar. I believe its my first memory. A playground. Yellow, red & wooden playground equipment stood silent in the late fall air of Chicago. And across the street from the hospital where I was born, where a movie plot had a man try to prove it was a one-armed man that murdered his wife... that is where my stone was found.
Memories, of yesterday and of yesteryear and I sit in the tub... He sits in the tub, still trying to adjust to the heat because the cold tap poured at a much slower rate than the hot. And he had forgotten to compensate. Forgotten... yet he remembered the Daoist story and decided to challenge himself. To sit in the scalding water and have a beer. A fat Tire. Fort Collins Colorado.
A link. A choose your own adventure story... but its not your story its his. No instructions, no rules, edit, wikime... This is his story, and maybe yours.
The drip-drap-drop of the tub continues its minuscule echo and the empty quiet bathroom reflects on the sounds and the memories of his past.
The bathroom is an escapist place, where the dirty deeds of society are omitted and where they are flushed from thought. India was more public about such things. The poor are more public about such things and can express the farts and types of excremental duties with vigor and humour. How many great ideas were created in bathrooms by those people who had nothing better to do than take a bath? Or read a magazine while what is commonly referred to in this day-and-age as deucing? Two-ing and Poo-ing but really its shit.
How antiquated is the term 'corner of the world'? Have we not been long agreed that its spherical? How do you refer to a spherical cross-sectional corner?
I don't quit, I don't fail. Failure is a self-identifier. I shouldn't say I don't get stopped in my ideas, or on my path... only that i find new direction. So perhaps I have failed ideas. But life moves forward, a river, a maze. It is philosophy that will get a man from one place to another. Life's labyrinth, it's maze, is not too difficult if you can handle being stopped by a dead-end in the direction you were headed. Easier still when you don't try to race to the end, and easier still when you don't play by the rules and merrily sit atop the wall.
Are we entering a new age of garage inventors, innovators, community social networking allowing exponentially shared growth of ideas?
Madness is...
Not being able to express yourself.
Madness is... an idea that perpetuates itself by making you wish you could stop envisioning it.
is... the endless echoed rushing gurgling of water down an unsealed plug in a small off-white bathroom.
intelligence is a self-identifier. I am if I believe I am... not even that... I only have to make you believe I am... I am just intelligent enough to make you think I am. The opposite of Dunning-Kruger? You're too dumb to know I'm dumb. Seems to work with politicians.
Is insanity a self identifier? If you believe you are insane, does it by default make you so...
Trimorphism; I'm not a numerologist, but... Three. Things in three's. Things seem to happen in sets of three in life. Three within three within three. I promise I'm not stoned right now.
The fibonacci sequence.
The world amazes me. I forget to look around at it sometimes. We are curious and excited about everything as children, some might say youth is a manic and frenzied experience. Learn all the things, do all the things, be all the things.
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