Wednesday, March 31, 2010

At Gas Works Park

Saint Mark's Cathedral sits atop the hill, overlooking the city. Below, the lake placidly rests, rippling between the earth and the moon. Between the two lies the freeway, a constant, inexorable progression of vehicles, people, commerce, humanity. Those in cars bemoan the slow pace of traffic, enraged by the delay in their lives, the daily dead zone that is the commute. In the cathedral, monks chant. Their Gregorian mantras flow over and over, endless even when they stop.

I sit atop a grassy hill, doing my best to be the world's observer. My gaze falls down upon the park, the lake, the city. Across the water the towers of downtown race towards the sky, defining the horizon through their angularity, the artifice of man. Within, people drive, walk, eat, shop, work. Every inch dedicates itself to the purposes of humanity. On either side two hills herald this hive, this contraption built to run upon sweat and blood and to create money, clothes, jobs, food, an economy. Between me and it the sun's light reflects off of the water and warms my face with energy from very far away. A police patrol boat cuts a wake through the waves and the sunlight.

Around me people talk, walk, bike, converse. Children play and couples sit on blankets, talking on their cell phones. Photographers sit and shoot and try to capture the scene with light and film as I try to capture it with words. The sun is warm on my body, and I feel the mass of the Earth as it pulls me towards itself. Birds fly low across the water, negotiating with the planet by expending energy to briefly fight its grasp. I am fighting ennui and an inescapable knowledge of the passage of time. "I grow old, I grow old..."

The wind blows the grass and its energy is expended, using up a little more. Eight rowers burn their calories to push one boat across the water, using form to keep from sinking to the bottom. Everyone is living a different life; everyone is living theirs. The people are mostly happy; they have friends, jobs, classes, houses, children. They're almost all white or Asian. Down in the city not everyone is happy; a lot of them are poor, drunk, high, addicted, homeless, helpless, essentially alone. Some are white and some are black and some are Asian, Latino, et cetera. The sad ones, the homeless ones, they're the detritus that has fallen to the bottom in the machine that builds economy. Near me four young, white, athletic college men laugh, talk, wrestle. The city is built for them and they have every reason to be happy. The distance makes the city beautiful. I get back on my bike and ride away, expending my calories to build muscle, to move places, to exist in this place. The sun warms my body.

- Posted usings BlogPress from my iPhone

Location:Westlake Ave N,Seattle,United States

Saturday, December 26, 2009

On January

I need a place to live. I'd like someone to live with. I might even like a big-house situation. But I've got to gain a higher level of independence. It's a must. This is priority one.

Priority two is to attain a level of financial responsibility. This includes paying off my debts and getting a credit card.

Priority three is to get my driver's license back. This goes back to gaining a new level of independence.

Priority four is exercise. Training my body to be an ally is essential. This is also a self-confidence issue.

Meanwhile, I need to stay up on my schoolwork and to operate at a high level at work.

January's going to be a busy month.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Tuesday, December 22, 2009

With consumption I learn, I take in all the essence of the world. Reading and watching things help me to build in my mind a model of the way the world is, was, and will be.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Monday, December 21, 2009

I wonder if I should join an atheists group. I wonder if I am an atheist. I have concluded that God is unknowable, but doesn't that make me an agnostic? I find the certainty presented by hard atheism just as arrogant and repulsive as the hard dogmatic beliefs of many faiths. I much prefer to stare into the darkness of what is unknowable and wonder.

I can consume or I can produce, and both have their merits. This production helps me to organize my thoughts and decide on my point of view, and also creates something permanent for me to review later. For instance, reading my mention of my depression all the way back in 2008 makes me realize that this is something I struggle with within myself, and that the conditions of my life aren't what causes it. This empowers me, because now I know to focus on myself in order to win this struggle. I feel good lately, sometimes, and I feel that I am winning. Consumption later.

A return to this shotgun

I return to this odd shotgun of a journal after having revisited my posts of 2008 and feeling some sympathy for my voice. I also like the conceit, turning consumption into production, and I love blogging on a mobile device. Hilariously enough, I write this in a public space, but am writing for noone but myself. Indeed, I would likely be mortified if someone I knew read this blog. At the same time I have my full name attached to it, along with details of my life that would make me instantly recognizable to any acquaintance. That exposure both excites and scares me. Perhaps I'll change it. We'll see.

Tizzle Wizzle Show (VIDEO): James Franco Guests On Knife-Wielding Kids Show

That's the funny part, buddy. The joke is on you; we're all laughing because you're grossed out. Get used to it, it's going to be your life for a long, long time.
About SNL
Read the Article at HuffingtonPost