Ridiculous nonsensical things. They are a balm to the generally dull and tedious explorations of logic.
Huge monster stores with useless crap NOBODY asked for, but now apparently must have. Now that these stores (and malls) are going broke, it’s supposed to be a disaster. I don’t think so.
I don’t understand why doing nothing is a sin. The idea of the meditating monk seeking spiritual perfection is acceptable, but laying around drunk in the grass is generally looked down on. C’mon, bliss is bliss.
Why is it OK to provoke thoughts of commerce, invention, religion, competition, philosophy, astrology, and all the intellectual pursuits… but not sex. The question mark is embarrassed to be seen next to this question… why?
Trains are cool. When I was little, my Dad would drive us all to the local train station to watch a train arrive. Traveling by train is great fun (never tried the boxcar…) kind of like staying home with nothing to do.
My name. Former marriage partners have kept it as their own – which I find odd, but also a compliment.
Art books. Secondary to actual art, but without walls.
Clean socks can often turn around a feeling of vague discontent.
Searching through hundreds of records at sales and second hand stores. Something unexpected can cause a thrill of opiate proportions.
Hot baths. Didn’t save Sylvia Plath from the oven, but has saved me on numerous occasions.
Getting a guitar in tune is a perfect moment. While it lasts everything sounds wonderful, which somehow creates music. Kind of like skipping a stone on water.
Wearing light colors makes me feel like a golfer, so I avoid them completely.
I don’t like telephone calls. It’s nothing like speaking in the real world, which is hard enough already.
Staying at home all day with nothing planned is a sort of heaven.
Praise from people I love is somehow uncomfortable – but from strangers it’s fine. I have no idea why.
Playing music on the stereo: I am considered a sort of default DJ at home, which is fun and difficult. My bliss may be someone else’s idea of hell.
A bar is a beautiful place. Assuming someone knows how to make a good drink. When in doubt, red, red wine… Mmmm… RED WINE.
Portland, Oregon. This is the best city I have ever lived in or visited. It is smart, lush, kind, old, new, brilliant, beautiful and overflowing with fabulous and amazing beer. Mmmm… BEER.
Cooking at home. This is especially satisfying when there’s not much to work with. Random leftovers combined with whatever is at hand can make for an amazing alchemy of food.
Making fires is extremely satisfying. In a fireplace or a campsite, both require the same basic ingredients: fuel and air. Oh, and a match is also useful. The results are mesmerizing.
Walking is my preferred form of transport, and exercise. A bit of a problem in my neighborhood however, as I usually get as far as the record shop or the wine bar. Oh well…
I really like cleaning things. When finished, things are clean. It may seem like a never-ending chore, but for the moment it is a small victory.
Brown is an awesome and underrated color. It looks great next to orange, on corduroys, in chocolate, in a coffee cup, in the garden after it rains.
I don’t like excessive and useless mail. It’s annoying to get things stuffed in your mailbox that you never asked for or wanted.
I like to ignore ringing phones and knocks on the door. I’m sorry.
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2 comments:
And you wonder why I like to lay around and do nothing all day.
ah, red wine... and beer
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