Ritual xxii.xi

Fiction from Friction

Most of my life I was unsure that I was necessary. I thought life's disconnections less and impressions and the processes of my perceptions. I stood tall but was barely an onlooker gazing at a meaningless game; distantly I theorized all over it and defined nothing, and as my repetitiousness faded, I titled myself an Indirect Object.

I clearly recall the moment your zen evaporated and I wanted to tell you; unable to remember a suggestion with any purpose, I said: It doesn't matter.

You moved your lips but silent sentences met my eyes and I wandered to the next idea that my words would shuffle into incomplete sentences and sort of collapse, like a song that ends abruptly and leaves you feeling slightly violated, in a way that makes you think you may have just been had (I wonder where that "been had" expression originated).

You watched me stand up and walk out the door; you were now left to repair your balance as I was going to hope for mine. I felt the late evening burning dread down the hillside.

I am a very good fiction writer.

September 18, 2009

“Don’t sit and think, sit and write.”

Today's Lecture?
Critical Awareness of language -> Connects ->
Narrative inquiry
Hermeneutic phenomenolgy
Heuristic research
Extraordinarily tangled language
Profusion of imagery
Repitivie hope – failure pattern of plot
Intense and brooding characters
Moral verus Existentioal
Heresy of – speculation, in terpretation, self0inquiry, theory
Breisach –
Modernistic self-understanding
existential tension between binaries – pure change and pure continuity
metanarratives (and the social dynamics within…)

Sadly, many – most people will never experience in a weekend, maybe even a lifetime, what I must endure in an evening… or maybe a weekend. Oddly obvious as confusing and after a thought or three, dismissed like you blankly seize the tension, you choke it down and remember that just yesterday you had no regrets, no mercy, and you were okay all along. BUT! YOU were the fastest sperm your daddy happened to be in the right place at the right godamn time; ain't that a peach?
Some days you are inbetween the other days – caught, like Robert Smith of the Cure made us see more clearly.
I attest that I recognized myself slipping away, and the momentum of the rolling at the speed at which I was slipping downward, that I was in trouble, I was concerned that I recognized that I knew this.
Did I have a choice, or did I have an option; perhaps a window of salvation, a crack in the wheel, 


was this simply whatever happened just was what it happened to be, and I was responsible for the effect I had caused.
Now being conscious of your choices was the cruelest of all human intelligence. Especially when you note that the best revenge is the idea that life is a canvas of randomness.

"Most of all, this unclear map is your guide."
Johnny and I realized that this was yet
another grand opportunity for very inappropriate giggling.
Everything seems (just fine)
Behavior, attire, as much as who do you havehave on your arm
Beuutiful deduction but what is seem how can one dare
I may be grinning this time but axiom's not clear
Break down (intuitiom) on our kneews
Why much to bargain before I figure out some more
Please wake me up and shake me
Please allow me to please shut my telephone off
I broke into a sweat as I paused and completed my phrase; I sweat because I was warm from my two-mile bicycleride to capus and I sweat from my warm confusion.
When the Dean inquired as to whether I was okay, my perspiration increased so I cautiously bended my interpretation of perceptions of the conventions of any perception that the Dean may have preconceived of my undignified appearance.
I received my Bachelor's in English that semester. Thank you to the Dean of English for not letting my body temperature warp her perception of my academic performance.
The present has/is intense these past few weeks… or has it been months? I have always desired to be a "cool" soul – a liveinthenow – a prresent tense prophet, but I am occasionally aware of the opposite of the absence of the intensity that surrounds me.
The absurdity needed to stop, for the sake of the astute. I yeilded to the connections.
"These sequences were not chronologically driven," I told the class, and I could honestly open a release.

This morning I chose to picture that my life was fine, and mentally, medically, for the purposes I sought, I made an impressive impression on my outlook from this insight. So I skipped, hopped, and flung myself and my newfound portrait of purpose to the bus stop, disregarding the waning that came with my prescribed medication which read under the section titled Possible Side Effects, "to call your doctor immediately if you have an exaggerated sense of well-being."
But I was busy being happy and feeling quite well, I blatantly neglected my brain's activities and festivities and thus arrived at my place of employment and pursued my daily ritual of being the best webmaster in the state of Colorado and I could pay my bills.
But later that day, I looked around and I was missing.
We weren't ten minutes into the movie when Also's date, Carla with the pink Cadillac, began screaming and kicking her legs against the seat in front of her, kernals of her large popcorn exploding and floating lightly in the space around us and the bad shade of purple was deeply etched in my mind while Aldo stood and asked her, "are you okay" and I reached into my vision to seize this flurry and invent the event with some significance. I restrained her until the staff took over and shortly after came the paramedics. The movie theatre staff manager thanked me and I huffed and said "no sweat" and I wavered, stepping backward and downward on the slippery painted concrete steps.

Ambiguity and Madness
I sure wish I had something to write about
I wish I had something to say
I wish I had a little stability
But what good is stability anyway
Do you think as you see yourself thinking
Do you think you like what you see?
I've been way long gone for a long, long time
Please don't tell me where you're going
I won't ask you where you've been
I'll come back as fast
When I'm unbroken
These days meander empty without you
These days wander lost in ambiguity
To hell with possibility anyway

Dear Reality Show Television Recruiter:
I accept the challenge to audition for your show. And yes, I do know a bit about videos.
Not only do I own quite a few of them (both Beta and VHS) but I also have cable television at my house and I have seen movies on a drive-in screen while passing through town on Santa Fe Drive; I rent to own and have credit at blockbusters, and when I blink rapidly, I can pretend to be watching one on a film projector like back in elementary school.
I would like to be a big shot rock star and occasionally make appearances in major films, documentaries, and music videos.
I may start my ideas and paragraphs and topics thus:
But that forecast was the same:
Or that one blog on livejournal; some college kid who just starts each entry with “Today I realized….” and explains her day. I think that it is quite smart and may actually try to do that exercise here soon – that way if it doesn’t work for me, you may judge my results accordingly.
After blinking involuntarily for the creeping recognition of the totally obvious, the most simplistic answers begin to noticeably affect our effect.
This was the same lack of coping skills.
Fall: (noun) to pass from one condition to another.
“Tempting,” I said.
“You must be crazy, I say to her,” Cece is always on top of those old brownstone steps waiting for the moment to come alive.


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