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All my love is sailing to Norway...
Thoughts are best when cooked al dente. If they stick when you throw 'em up against a wall, they're ready to be properly digested.
My head swims too fast, and my body can't swim at all.
I have a phobia of deep water.
My hair has gotten long enough to where you can stick things in it and I wouldn't notice. This is not an invitation.
We'll all float on, OK.
I would like five minutes alone in a steel cage with anyone who gives me shit for being an optimist. I don't think we'd come to blows, but it'd be nice to have the...tension present. The 'true meaning of pain' that professional wrestlers speak of is actually listening to a gay black man warbling Garth Brooks in the name of peace, or something.
There are times where there really *is* too much beauty in the world. This is why there are people like George W. Bush. You think they're ruining the planet, when really they're kind of aesthetic gardeners, pruning off stuff that rocks so there's an appropriate level of misery for everyone. Thanks, Bush!
That last bit was kind of mean, wasn't it?
What the fuck is *wrong* with thinking that people deserve a basic level of respect as a human being? Shouldn't judging be left up to deities who have a knack for that sort of thing?
To all the people who think the Buddha was fat: fuck you.
To all the people who think the Buddha was Siddhartha Gautama: fuck you.
You know, your skin really *doesn't* delineate you.
When I was 5 - 8 years old, I won several spelling and math bees. I placed second in the Baltimore City Math Bee in 1986. The winner was a girl I had an enormous crush on, and actually befriended in high school 10 years later.
All the women I'm attracted to I perceive as being far smarter than I am.
There's an issue of The Sandman called "Calliope," in which Dream punishes a man who rapes a Muse by giving him more ideas than he can possibly handle. He ends up scrawling lines of story into brick walls with bloodied fingers. Sometimes I envy this guy, because he can at least get ideas *out*.
I am far too emotional to be properly objective about anything.
For the past several months, I've found rabbits to be a sexual ideal.
I don't *really* believe I'm a raven.
What am I playing at, anyway?
Joy is an amazing emotion. I think it'd be all right to be crazy, as long as you were happy about it.
The reason I'm interested in Sufi poetry is largely because the writers involved seem to surrender themselves completely to the joy of connection, of unification. There was a mystic who would save worms after rainstorms because he *cared* about them. Didn't worry about looking stupid. Don't you wish you could have that kind of abandon?
To everyone who thinks rap can't be real music, or worth listening to: fuck you.
That being said, it's extremely disappointing when one of your standard-bearers for the genre sell out as hard as the Black Eyed Peas did.
Despite what everyone says, I *am* black, and I'm pretty proud of how I grew up. Watch Spike Lee's "Crooklyn," and you'll have a good idea.
We can be different and still like each other. The cosmetics of a situation may be different, but the emotions that anchor them to memory are what links us.
I am now officially late for work.
Be very nice to people who want to love, but don't know how.
Thoughts are best when cooked al dente. If they stick when you throw 'em up against a wall, they're ready to be properly digested.
My head swims too fast, and my body can't swim at all.
I have a phobia of deep water.
My hair has gotten long enough to where you can stick things in it and I wouldn't notice. This is not an invitation.
We'll all float on, OK.
I would like five minutes alone in a steel cage with anyone who gives me shit for being an optimist. I don't think we'd come to blows, but it'd be nice to have the...tension present. The 'true meaning of pain' that professional wrestlers speak of is actually listening to a gay black man warbling Garth Brooks in the name of peace, or something.
There are times where there really *is* too much beauty in the world. This is why there are people like George W. Bush. You think they're ruining the planet, when really they're kind of aesthetic gardeners, pruning off stuff that rocks so there's an appropriate level of misery for everyone. Thanks, Bush!
That last bit was kind of mean, wasn't it?
What the fuck is *wrong* with thinking that people deserve a basic level of respect as a human being? Shouldn't judging be left up to deities who have a knack for that sort of thing?
To all the people who think the Buddha was fat: fuck you.
To all the people who think the Buddha was Siddhartha Gautama: fuck you.
You know, your skin really *doesn't* delineate you.
When I was 5 - 8 years old, I won several spelling and math bees. I placed second in the Baltimore City Math Bee in 1986. The winner was a girl I had an enormous crush on, and actually befriended in high school 10 years later.
All the women I'm attracted to I perceive as being far smarter than I am.
There's an issue of The Sandman called "Calliope," in which Dream punishes a man who rapes a Muse by giving him more ideas than he can possibly handle. He ends up scrawling lines of story into brick walls with bloodied fingers. Sometimes I envy this guy, because he can at least get ideas *out*.
I am far too emotional to be properly objective about anything.
For the past several months, I've found rabbits to be a sexual ideal.
I don't *really* believe I'm a raven.
What am I playing at, anyway?
Joy is an amazing emotion. I think it'd be all right to be crazy, as long as you were happy about it.
The reason I'm interested in Sufi poetry is largely because the writers involved seem to surrender themselves completely to the joy of connection, of unification. There was a mystic who would save worms after rainstorms because he *cared* about them. Didn't worry about looking stupid. Don't you wish you could have that kind of abandon?
To everyone who thinks rap can't be real music, or worth listening to: fuck you.
That being said, it's extremely disappointing when one of your standard-bearers for the genre sell out as hard as the Black Eyed Peas did.
Despite what everyone says, I *am* black, and I'm pretty proud of how I grew up. Watch Spike Lee's "Crooklyn," and you'll have a good idea.
We can be different and still like each other. The cosmetics of a situation may be different, but the emotions that anchor them to memory are what links us.
I am now officially late for work.
Be very nice to people who want to love, but don't know how.
