faith:
2004-04-09 - 6:59 p.m.
...the name of a girl I knew from elementary school.
I had a daydream about a tribute to nirvana, and the funny thing is, I can�t remember what it felt like to be in the daydream, either. ��have you ever seen a bubble floating on the surface of a water, and wondered when it was going to pop, and just when you think it�s never going to pop and turn away, it does. And then you look back, and search and search and search, and when you give up searching, wonder if there ever was a bubble�what do you think the bubble feels.�
so wouldn't that be cool if when people died, their souls were wearing the same clothes they were wearing for their funeral? Then you could be buried in a flameproof suit, and laugh at all the burning dumbies in hell who didn�t think to bring one. But then, I suppose that�s what the deamons are for, to poke holes in your plans with their pitchforks.
faith. is what separates us from animals. an animal will eat something, get sick, and not eat it. humans will continue and continue to eat things that make them sick, based on the faith, the hope, that this time, it will not hurt. this time, it will not kill. we believe in luck, and we are lucky.
my roommate chris has bought some red wine "for our apartment". red wine is only to be drank with red meat. everyone knows this. but my roommate is a vegetarian, and thus is not entitled to have drunken it, at any later point in time. The only reasonable conclusion to draw is this. chris is trying to get me drunk. we went to a gay bar on saturday. i of course, in my innocence, didn't know it was a gay bar until a week before we went.
1100: the DJ started mixing up the night.
1130: left the house for the bar.
0100: bar is fun but not hoppin' so we head to an arbitrary person's house to buy weed, i talked of AD+D and found a downtown DM.
0130: we all mistakenly think there is a road where there is instead a telephone pole next to a medium-sized puddle next to a large ditch for catching ponds. cleared the telephone pole and the puddle, nearly cleared the pond, and came two feet from taking out the fence.
0200-0300: daylight savings time +1 hour. car is still stuck in the pond. police-person arrives. She hears that Chris goes to RPI and so doesn't beathalize us or check under the seat for weed.
500: get back to the house, but only after extended periods of mudwrestling, playing with chains, an oversized flatbed, sitting in the back of a cop car, and swimming by moonlight.
got called in to work sunday, another day of papercuts and sweat. the next morning, down to massachusetts for the last time, again. there are two differences between the ida campus and some random campus. it's a hole in the wall, and some of the people there know my name. watched a couple DVDs with Becky and Meghan, 1:00am rolled around and they were gonna tow my car, so i didn't have time to get even more stoned with Dyani. there are day passes and night passes and you can't get night passes on the weekdays. just like prison. so maybe there are a couple more differences.
i believe. that modern psychology is very furniture-oriented. the freudians with their squeaky couch-beds, trying to get you to relax so they can talk about what happened on the couch-bed of your childhood. the skinnerites, with their boxes, every spec of dust placed in just the right orientation as to convince you to turn in endless circles to the right, never the left. But the gestaltians are by far the most extreme. they want you to imagine a person sitting in their chair, to make the room more complete, give the appearance that people congregate in the office of the doctor just for the fun of it. oh, and how the invisible people of the world will flock to the office of a gestaltist, once they have grown weary of their childhood companions. in no other place in the world does an invisible person get treated so well as to receive their own chair and personal conversation than the chair that sits empty in front of the gestaltims. oddly enough, the invisibles never seem to want to sit in chairs that are already occupied, even after a long invisible day after their invisible work, and odder still, that the invisiblings never seem to have to walk into the office itself, as if they were always and will always be exactly in the chair. Even more odd is that the gestaltixia do not play the part of good hosts, never listen to what their invisible companions want to say. does the gestaltizy believe that the invisible person that always sits on the potty will always politely schooch aside and share, when the gestaltibo needs to do his business? And does the invisible person who sits on the potty wear pants? how awkward, being a gestaltity must be.
