spin cycle drain

Went to the lake to my dismay
Hoped for the best

Got the worst
Hot sun
Biting flies

Screaming kid behind me that just keeps screaming at everything
What kind of kid is he going to be, holy shit

His parents look like high-schoolers and speak like camp counselors. 
They feed the flames that are his screams

Nephew yells at geese
Throws sand at them
 
I secretly hope he gets bitten

 
I really want to get out of here
Wish I was at home with HIM while he writes
 
The mother is next to me
Even her sneeze annoys me
 
Battery low
Geese are honking
 
 
 
 
Wish I were drunk
 
Those kids won't shut up
Why do they have to yell so much?

So loud

Their voices echo within the woods

sounding like the voices of dead children who used to play here

.drawing.

I draw. Often. Most everything that reaches my hands is left containing some form of my infamous doodles or sketches whether it's paper, walls, shoes, and even some fruits have been left looking angry and bearded.

I think. Often.  Today seems to be a high functioning type of day. I downloaded a new app for my iPhone called "Map the Internet" by Peer 1 Hosting.  It's pretty rad in my book.   It gives you a peek at the internet from a global perspective.  At first play, I felt like Tony Stark, manipulating the world between my fingers, spinning it and making it larger and smaller with a slight touch.  When I switched to Network view as opposed to Global View, I squealed a bit and then my brain went full speed into a thought process about the universe and all the way back down to a cellular level of existence.  Amazing. If you'd like to check it out, it's available for iPhone & iPad via the AppStore or if you use an Android device, via Google Play.  I won't get into detail but I will direct you to their website:  http://www.peer1.com/blog/peer-1-hosting-launches-map-of-the-internet-app


I leave you with some zombie mushrooms I had been working on prior to Valentine's Day that actually wound up on my boyfriend's Valentine's Day card. 

grocery store parking lot thoughts

....
I let the man in a flatbed truck, wearing thick glasses and smoking a cigarette, continue pulling out in front of me in the grocery store parking lot.  When he noticed me, I waved him through. He waved back with genuine politeness.

You don’t get much of that kind of politeness these days.

He had just exited the liquor store with his booze.  He was probably on his way home after a long day of work on the farm and this was his afternoon reward to himself. He was going to go home, pour a drink, and sit on the porch with his pack of cigarettes as both the sun and temperature went down.  He wasn’t thinking about life. He wasn’t thinking about death. He just was.  He was a guy driving to the store and back, cigarette in mouth, not caring about contracting cancer from smoking, not caring about causing a fender bender in the grocery store parking lot, not caring about eating too much or not enough. He was just being who he was.

Which lead me to thinking about death and fear.

Why are we afraid of death?

Is it fear of leaving loved ones behind? Is it fear of a long battle with some awful disease and going into debt because of it, if you even survive? Is it fear of the unknown? We make choices out of fear. Sometimes they are the right choices, other times they are the wrong ones.

This guy didn’t care about those things.  He was just doing what he was doing. 

Of course I could be wrong about him and he’s rapidly firing thoughts at the same pace that I do, but for a brief moment, he was a part of what made me decide that I just don’t need to care so much all the time.  Things will happen when they happen, whether I accelerate that process or not is of no matter.  I don’t restrict myself of things that I enjoy that are bad for me because I want to be healthy, I do it out of fear, and I loathe restrictions.  When I was a child, I created this barrier of anxiety to help me feel secure, to feel like I had boundaries where there were none, to harness a vivid imagination and keep it from letting the vampires, ghouls, zombies, ghosts, my mother, and Santa Claus from killing me. I still carry this barrier with me today. I had forgotten why it was there or how it came to be until yesterday.

Until some guy, smoking a cigarette, driving a blue flatbed truck after leaving the liquor store, pulled out in front of me in the grocery store parking lot.

irreverant

I was going to post about web designing and what it does for me but I feel that's been done a thousand times over.
Moving on to what I do regularly:

I wonder what these people are going to do when they have nothing to complain about

Except for survival

When they can’t take showers

When they can’t eat what they do

I’ve tried to fit in

That’s why I work here in the first place

To fit in

I’ve tried to drop my idiosyncrasies

Hide them and blend in

But it’s getting too difficult to keep up with as I age

As I experience more

Things I never thought I would

Or tried to protect myself from experiencing

Through rituals of anxiety

A constant state of something just to feel anything

To control something

To be something other than what I think I am

We don’t talk anymore

Everywhere you go

People are angry

Quick to judge

We don’t help each other anymore

Except in rare instances

Or in secluded areas

Such as my house in the woods

But here

I’ve watched the way others watch each other

Or who pays attention to whom

The hierarchy of importance is dull and unfounded

The ruse that they all live in

Confuses me

But I go along with it

They do things just to do them

or is it just doing things

-nothing I do is without thought-

Watching them pains me at times

And at times I can’t breathe

so confined to their plastic walled ant farm

happy

content

pretend play

all I hear are voices of pretend

little figurines placed in the building

acting out life 

the fake laughter frightens me the most