2003-11-02 - 4:25 a.m.
people have problems with the concept of tradition..
they don't understand that tradition can be broken
and worse yet, they don't understand that tradition can be created.
somehow they assume tradition just existed on its own ..in a vacuum somewhere. we just happened to stumble upon it.
this is tradition.
unlike the gamut of ills that time successfully cures, loneliness's immunity to change puts it in the category of deadly viruses that do not go away. and even if it does go away, it doesn't really go away. it sits under the skin somewhere... and waits.. to reemerge when the body isn't looking.
i am alone. in my thoughts. in my love. in everything i do. i am alone. i am alone.
i am alone.
i am alone.
i am alone.
i am alone.
i am alone.
i am alone.
i am alone.
i am alone.
..and yet
everybody is watching.
that is the comedy of life. for every ounce of real, there are 2 parts surreal. somehow, some way, everything must have its own punchline.
that's why funny isn't contrived and contrived can never be funny. because contrived things are funny to begin with. to contrive them into being funny is to lie about their essentially funniness. funny is a state that you live in. it's not a time you arrange. to arrange to meet funny is to misunderstand the location of funny. funny doesn't come and go. funny is.
this is the fucking hilarious tragedy of climbing to the top of a mountain to look down at yourself. to. look. DOWN. at. YOURSELF. from on top. ha.
if that isn't funny, then funny is unfunny. to have eyes to look. and see nothing. and SEE NOTHING.
funny is exhausting. funny is a chore. funny is an expectation. funny is supposed to be.
it's funny that what i can say is, more often that not, what i choose not to say.. i can be clear, but who will understand. i can be thorough, but who will allow it. i can be forthcoming, but who will be accepting.
i can be funny. but you're already funny to begin with.
katie didn't call.
met a sarah today. she's skinny. looks good in tight jeans. says "fabulous". has a Masters in something. Teaches first grade. I don't think she'll call either. if i didn't know any better, i'd say we have the making of a serial killer. all i need is some low self-esteem, a few nocturnal urges, and a neighbor to vouch for me being "such a nice young man."
another silverfish tried to disturb my elliot smith listening experience.. he was hanging out, upside down between the wall and ceiling.. i taped 3 wooden shishkabob sticks togther with a match at the end and tried to burn him off.. then i got a babyfood jar (i forgot to tell you, i have a few babyfood jars around the house in secret locations.. you put tape around them and then silverfish can climb in but they can't climb out.. found it on the internet.. so far i've caught zero.. i think the silverfish have their own internet access) and threw it over his head ..but he wouldn't go in.. then he got squished a little, so when i lit the lighter under the bottom of the glass jar, he didn't really have the capacity to dance like i wanted him to.. (a torture idea from an insect torturing roommate..and future torturer.) i flushed him down the toilet. i almost started a fire on my rug. it smells like burning carpet in here.
i hate silverfish.
