As Pink As Pussy

You know, I think my blog has a lot of similar themes. It is my day off and I want to write about coffee and bowel movements and cooking and Nicolas Jaar. I still want pussy but more so I want companionship. A compatible woman to spend some time with. We have been through this before. I have never truly been in love. Is something wrong with me? How have I not had that experience. I have been in love or thought I was in love and have things not work out but I have never been truly in love. How does one break out of sameness. I do not want to be writing about coffee and shit and music and pussy in 1 year. I probably will be because some things never change but there are things I want to change. I will probably always be writing about things I want to change as well. We all want to change things. I want a bigger paycheck. I want more free time. I want more quality friends and relationships. I should be more grateful for what I do have. I should help more people. Why do I not help more people? I should exercise. Slowww down. Speed up, be more productive! It is the nature of the world we live in. Fuck it I do not want to look like an Yves Saint Laurent model or wear those fucking clothes. Get out of my face with that stuff. Why am I reading this GQ anyway? In the fucking bin. Thank the fates! When I am out for a peach pie a la mode, a coffee, and conversation the anxieties melt away. Similar to a walking conversation in nature. Then sometimes it feels like I am trapped in a bowl. Trapped in a crib with nothing to do but stare at the ceiling. Why am I here? Where are the gods? I want some stimulation. I want some food. I can go 3 weeks or so with out food. How long can I go with out stimulation? Then you have the Twitters and the Facebooks. I sit at break scrolling through searching for something good. Digging for gold that rarely appears. Glazed over eyes and drool dripping down to the floor. What about the singing birds? The music of the beach? I long for this leisure, these luxuries.

Sometimes I just want some peace and quiet. Many times I want action and adventure. I am confined to the life made by my actions. Many times for what seems like a long time adventure is not in the cards. That seems like my brain is firing off about poker and adventure but do I want to go there? Yes, it is easy to experience adventures with plenty of cash and free time. Do I really want adventure? I think I am happy to just be a tourist these days. I was always a tourist. What I am meaning to say by this is that there was a time where I thought being a starving artist in NYC was the peak of living or a better example a poker player in Argentina. Well, the ladder was pretty damn cool and I definitely had my adventures but from my perspective now that was just a cool season of life and not a possibility and life there would look a lot different and in reality I do not need to or wish to relive that season. Would I love to go back there one day as a tourist for a week? Very much so. I would rather spend some time with the people I met there. Any city, it does not matter. So, I suppose I do not crave adrenaline as much as I used to. I should contact some friends and catch up. I will contact some friends and catch up. It is best to talk about things we are doing that we are passionate about. Ideas. Life. Everything that comes up.

It is great to see people who were having a real hard time with life come around and really start doing well. Back from the dead type of stories. There are many people that have been to hell. To see them get some peace and serenity in their lives, go back to school, get a job, and just smile. That is a beautiful thing. That is something we all should cherish and do our best to use our experiences to help other people in any way we can. I do not think about being trapped in those cases. We are all captives in a zoo. Orca whales with bent dorsal fins. How do we get free? I am not going to think about and write out my list. I have already written out many in the above. Although the word novelty keeps pinging strongly in my head. Always looking for recipes. Many dishes taste good. I am getting hungry. Hungry for life. Hungry for rice and beans and habanero peppers. Whatever floats your boat. Everyone is different. Everyone is similar. Everyone is different. Everyone has to eat food and shit. Everyone has to die. Let's live while we can. We are going to anyways unless we don't. How should we live? And the loop continues!

I remember back in college there was a young lady who I worked with who flirted with me a lot and one day just walked up to me and said, "I am obsessed with your lips." I replied "thank you" and got back to work. I don't know why I just remembered that. She was attractive but a little crazy. Certainly a good recipe for running into each other at a party and having some fun. I would just be working the job for that summer and Columbus is a big place.

On my prom night a group of us went back to my date's house. They were making out on the couch and we were just sitting there talking. I suppose dating is always a little bit awkward at times. A little bit uncomfortable. I just woke up with these thoughts. I woke up like this. I woke up like this. One Beyonce advertisement seen today and now this. I am a programmed robot with a consciousness of what is defined as a human. My third eye cries sometimes.

Many times I write because I just do. I realize I am putting up some blocks of text on here but I just do. It can be cathartic. I had to look that word up. Sometimes I am free. Away from the surveillance cameras, outside of my rat cage. Free as a bird in the blue sky. Not today. Not today. I do not have any real rage but I am still just a rat in a cage. I can not think of anywhere fun to go. Anything fun to do. Prepare food or go out? It is like I am trudging through sludge. I want to dance ballet on a cloud to Tchaikovsky. Why did I sleep for 14 hours last night? That has got to be the culprit. This is a silly exercise. The whole thing. I am phoning a friend. Maybe they will know the answer. Maybe we can commiserate over the fact we both do not know the answer. Does anyone at LP know the answer?

The answer/the solution:

Call a friend. Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band. Go to a meeting. Meet up with friends for good food and conversation.

"How do we get free?"

Isn't that the most valuable question of all? I think it starts with literacy. Without it, we are unable to navigate our world properly and know what's in our best self-interest. we're slaves to instinct. We're prey. Meditation is probably the second most important tool. Having a deep understanding of the mind from within is arguably more important than having valuable third person knowledge of the mind. It seems like, ultimately, these two are all we need for freedom, but we don't truly desire freedom, do we?

Yeah, literacy is important. Could you expand a bit on the literacy point? When I think of literacy I think of communication and understanding. It is easy for a taxi driver to take advantage of me if I do not know the language or where I am. That is where marketing is dangerous. I can know all I know about marketing and it can still have an effect on me. Also, there are many books that have effected me and shaped who I am that I obviously could not access if I were illiterate. I would not have even come across them.

Meditation has helped my understanding of the way thoughts work. I would agree. I have never been freer in this existence than when I am one with my awareness of the breath and the surroundings. In all honesty, I want to say I have perhaps been freer on drugs. That drug cocktail that is the perfect amount to be one with the awareness of the euphoria and bliss. Those were all fleeting moments though and the chase to recreate moments is not freedom.

There could be a lot of definitions of free. I fantasize about moving out to the forest in the Pacific Northwest and reading and meditating and gardening and foraging but I do enjoy people. Good conversation makes me free. Even if insecurities or anxieties creep up I will take it. The best of conversations provide some of the best transcendence but that is not entirely true. It is not entirely true because I can say the best of sex, jet skiing, reading, shooting a bow, brazilian jiu jitsu, surfing, driving fast, et al is the best of transcendence and also, that it will be different for every person.

I desire freedom from anxiety, sadness, depression, psychosis, government, existential angst, addiction, boredom, poverty to name more than a few. I do not like many of the aspects of our culture and society. People tell me that means there is something wrong with me. If I can just find others that share similar ideas it will be ok? That is all I want to do. Just live some where decent that is suited to me so I can carve out a life. My expectations are likely too high. It leads to judgement and resentments. I just want the best out of life. Perhaps, that hope and also fear leads to not killing myself. I do not desire freedom from this consciousness (ie death). I will happily live in the confines of gravity, this earth, this universe. What do you mean exactly with the question "we don't truly desire freedom, do we?"

I just had an almost magical mango. It had the perfect amount of juiciness and almost perfect texture but it was lacking that pure, ripe, beautiful sweetness to reach magical status. It elicited a few Ric Flair whooos from me in enjoyment. I also ate a nectarine from Chile that was subpar. Felt I'd give it a try not expecting much. It is tough to go nectarines from Chile when I will routinely get perfectly ripened, fresh picked local peaches later in summer. Hell, I am going to be living one state over from Georgia. My goal is to fuck a Georgia peach and then eat a peach cobbler ala mode. That would be a nice trip to Savannah or just eat raw peaches in Atlanta. Pink peaches. As pink as pussy.

I feel pretty free right now. Finished with work, day off tomorrow, eating great mangos, and I have a solid meeting to attend and friends to catch up with and have a good time. Definitely not the least favorite part of my day.

I do not like the name of this blog post and I do not like the fact that I keep referencing it. I did see an ass today that fired me up. It was also the way she moved. I did realize today though that as I get older I am looking for things like compatibility and companionship way more. I do not know. Women are great. They can be a sex object but there is always more to the story. Sometimes I do not like the story. Sometimes it is tremendously compelling or just compelling. It does not have to be tremendously. Tremendously is someone to spend more and more time together.

I would write more about leather jackets and shoes but I do not know if anyone cares and my dad just got back from Korea and I want to see how he's doing.

Ciao bellos y bellas (but likely mostly if not all bellos...)

I was going to write we are all beautiful but I don't think that is true. I think any human has the potential for beauty. A heroin addict stealing from his family is not beautiful. A heroin addict getting clean and helping active heroin addicts do the same is.