notallpurple's Xanga

Monday, December 15, 2008

Mon, 15 Dec 2008 09:14:11 GMT

Because sometimes it takes the dead to remind you that for all the intensity of life, it's only a phase.

If you were on the death row, what would be your last meal?

Thu, 31 Jul 2008 17:08:48 GMT

I wouldn't be on death row. Fuck that shit, man. Damn.

I just answered this Featured Question, you can answer it too!

Haircuts FTW

Fri, 23 May 2008 12:44:09 GMT

Jonntag´s hair always reflected his last relationship. If she had worn it long, he wore it long. If she was blonde, he wore it blonde. If she was bald (and there had been that one time), well, he went bald. It took me a year to realize exactly what was going on. For a man as... relationally versatile as Jonny, it´s a wonder I didn´t figure it out after two months. In the end it was his mate Sammy that clued me in.

We were passing the mall on our way to catch the number 19 bus when Sam stopped us up short.

"Look at that," he said. There in the local SuperCuts sat Jonny. Some tight-lipped, ponytailed lass was taking a pair of scissors to his long locks. He had only sported the dreads for a couple of weeks and the wax hadn´t quite set yet.

TBContinued

Friday, May 23, 2008

Fri, 23 May 2008 09:16:11 GMT

This is my art.

"Be clean. Be clean," I tell myself. Am I not clean already?

"Be free from manipulation, those little influences that steal into your mind and plant themselves in the form of your own thoughts and ideas." Like claws.

"These little claws parading as your own life matter. No, your blood must not be corrupted by the ease of pre-existing patterns. You do not need to be different, but you need to be clear, be seperate, be honest." No, hope will not dwell in a temporary shelter. Blood does not abide impurities, it cannot, it must not be recycled.

----

Sometimes you are tired. Just too tired to close your eyes. The world blurrs past you, the wind sweeps your dreams along and life is lived without you. Maybe all it would take is a little kindness, a helpful hand to lower your eyelids and you could save that time which otherwise would have been lost.

Too much time lost is too much heart lost. And who can live without heart? You would be a fool to try.

Thursday, May 22, 2008

Thu, 22 May 2008 23:43:47 GMT

Looks like you´re safe, but at what price?

Living with your fathers shadows on your back. Always in tune with the blood shed by your blood. Keeping your brother´s blood from being spilled offering yours in turn. Feel a millenium on your shoulders, a world raped by the same greed that brought you to life.

That guilt isn´t yours. It´s not yours to pay. But it´s yours to change the path, switch lanes, plant a life tree in the puddles our fathers made.

Monday, August 20, 2007

Mon, 20 Aug 2007 16:06:04 GMT

When we lived in Brazil we were allowed to go out at night. The screen-door to our homes would slam shut behind us as we made our way to the middle of the compound to meet up. Sometimes there were five of us, sometimes we were only two. Hours were spent climbing trees, stomping through patches of mud to stir up the frogs, and running from indistinct noises that carried on the wind. At the age of ten we were free.
Things were never like that in the States. We lived in Suburbia, where the creeps keep their weapons on prominent display in hallway cabinets and their victims’ bodies in the basement. Our freedom was limited from the get-go.
I wonder what it says about our society that in this country common sense is indistinguishable from paranoia. People across the world don’t hate YOU because of what your president did, they resent your ignorance and they abhor your wealth. America is a young upstart, and everybody’s watching for it to fall.

My cousin, whom I’ll call Bob (seeing as it fits the bill a bit better than his real name), has recently taken to travel the world. He goes to Portugal, and then the Ukraine. He goes to Italy, and then the Ukraine. He goes to England… and then to Ukraine.
…I honestly don’t know what to make of it.
My roommate knows a guy who hates Europe. Back in his boxing days he visited Europe and it was awful. THE MAN WENT TO POLAND, FOR CHRIST’S SAKE! Of course his trip was bad. Did I mention the man was an African-American? Even white Europeans don’t go to Poland. Or most of those former Soviet-bloc nations.
Back to my cousin: this guy seems completely unaware of the world’s general feelings toward Americans. We were having a tame argument about the subject when he let out this pearl, “They wouldn’t do anything to me; I’m American. They might not like me, but they’ll treat me good.” And then steal your kidneys to feed to their pet turtle… Being an American is reason enough to get your ass kicked or decapitated almost anywhere.

Ironically, at home you’re afraid, or at least painfully aware, of the nut jobs you live with. Abroad you’re treated like some evolutionary dead-end that people are eager to snuff out.
I guess in some twisted way this justifies our current foreign-policy. (Your leaders aren't all that stupid, they're protecting your ignorant ass)

Wednesday, June 13, 2007

Wed, 13 Jun 2007 06:13:52 GMT

By the way, the roles got reversed a while back-

Tadeu: "Man, I just really want to find a girl I can **** with."
Luke: "..."
Tadeu: "It's really killing me man. Several months now!"
Luke: "Dude, stop thinking about it. You're just making it worse."
Tadeu: "I know THAT but... Ugh."
Luke: "Just don't think about it."
Tadeu: "Don't think about it? Man, I can't help it."
Luke: "Shut up, man. You're killing me."
Tadeu: "..."

Saturday, May 26, 2007

Sat, 26 May 2007 09:43:29 GMT

"They don't get it."

"Oh yea? Well neither do I... Fuck them."

Even When We Are Enemies

Sat, 28 Apr 2007 20:21:01 GMT

Who do you sell your ass to? Who controls your decisions?

If we are a byproduct of our environments then we are also the environment of other byproducts. We control and affect many things outside of ourselves but very little do we truly know of who we are.

Are any of us able to demonstrate the restraint that society is based on without killing a little of ourselves?

No sex for me. It's too unacceptable.

Monday, March 19, 2007

Mon, 19 Mar 2007 16:18:56 GMT

I really want to have sex.

And by that I don't mean anything too deep or too shallow or anything at all, really. It just happens to be the starting point for the following.
Tadeu is obviously sick of listening to my whimpers.

Luke: "Man, I just really want to find a girl I can **** with."
Tadeu: "..."
Luke: "It's really killing me man. Three months now!"
Tadeu: "Dude, stop thinking about it. You're just making it worse."
Luke: "I know THAT but... Ugh."
Tadeu: "Just don't think about it."
Luke: "Don't think about it? Man, shut up, that's nonsense."
Tadeu: "Great, now it starts."
Luke: "..."

He has a point. Usually does. My realizations end in me looking like an idiot- no moments of EUREKA-containing genius. Yep. I look like an idiot alot but it's worth the lessons recieved.

This morning I went to have coffee with the old guys. In the town next to ours is this old coffee shop/donut shop where my grandmother would go every morning to have coffee and chat with 'the guys'. She used to take me from time to time, and when she died they'd give me rides: every morning, 8 o'clock. Now that I have my own car and license I go as often as time allows.
Most conversation is nonsense- life in the '40s, hiking trails, homo-erectus, south-east Africa, war in Iraq, cost of maintaining a construction plow... It's everything lacking among young adult conversation and more. It soothes me, time flies by and I am able to absorb without having to invent much more than witty retorts to their snide comments.

Glad to be back in Oregon?
It has its ups and downs.