So often, people readily surrender to the whims of their hearts. The very moment doubt steps onto the ballroom floor of great joy, the parquetry scuffs.

Most surrender to a great, wrongful cliche in their relationships: there is a woefully pervasive idea, that in a partnership, nothing should feel strange - nothing should ever make you question yourself, and the very presense of a second thought is like a swarm of rats into a grey and sickly villiage.

For what is the prison of human existene- a jail cell with roses climbing the bars, for certain -there is a remarkable distance between people. We cannot truly communicate with one another - we are seperate bodies and minds with no way to meld, and, ironically, the complexity of human communication which afforded us our great individuality often serves to only prevent us even further from expressing it and understanding one-another.

It isn't so remarkable, then, that doubt shrouds our view, and we retreat into ourselves.

When two people have tried to build a bridge to cover their distance, it is by very nature rickety. You cannot truly trust the person on the other side, and you cannot tell if it is a bad site to build upon - but for happiness, it is a leap - or walk - of faith - and thankfully, you have someone steadying the ropes for you.

When you throw the ropes across and lay down the planks, it does not end there, though. As you both cross over again and again, wood wears and ropes split - the confidence you've built comes under trial, and you think...

Is it worth it to repair?

Is it worth it to bring a hammer and nails at the risk of falling?

There is nothing profound about these doubts - but there is something we should all question with a greater priority -

Is it worth it to let everything go to waste?

For all your efforts against and adapting to the human boundaries, wouldn't it be so insulting to those tireless times of effort to abandon all for what is a few moments' doubt? Is it worth leaving the wood to rot and ropes to rip because it is the most common solution?

I think we should repair and remodel.

To sample the bohemian lifestyle (i.e. moooch food off of someone on foodstamps), I'll be leaving on November thirtieth to stay with my friend Joe for a month! You know Joe, don't you? Slender, the complexion of a pillowcase - Anyway! I wish to say I'm off to sow my wild oats, but I'm going Iowa - there's only corn there.

I'll be traveling by train, and I'm absolutely terrified of losing my luggage. I own very little - but enough to take my entire life with me in a suitcase. If I were to lose that bag, I'd lose all of my important supplies and the clothes I've gone through so much effort to get over the years... has anyone ever traveled on Amtrak? How easy is it to lose your luggage, exactly?

...Hmmmm. Beyond my progressive paranoia, I've had my share of work to do lately. As I'm certain you're all aware, I've been working to promote the book I was part of----

Ah--

Ah---

Ahh!

I can hear your exasperated sighs from all the way over here, flist!

But we're going to get through this together.

..Anyway, part of the work I put upon myself is creating an illustrated slide show - after writing out the script and doing the thumbnails, it came out to be about twenty eight frames long.

That may not sound so bad to you, but twenty eight frames of this



is just a bit taxing. It took me several hours over days packed with other peoples' errands to create a proper technique for what has a semblance to consistency, and I just bit the bullet and started simplifying --

Ah, at least I'm learning!

No time for bitching - since I'm doing them on paper, I need to get all of these done before the twenty fifth! There is no window to my hand drawn art in Iowa, I'm afraid. ):

...

ahhh fuck composure I'VE BARELY DONE FOUR AHHHHHHHH AHHHHHHHHHH

NO TIME FOR BITCHING SAMANTHA OH MY GOD NO TIME FOR BITCHING------------

Check THIS shit out:



In this sixty page book, there are three pages of my work! That's right - three entire pages of Samantha. (There's also a splash by chalkpowder, but that is not so exciting.)

Details and a press release are forthcoming, but anyone interested now? Let's chat about it!

Post ten of any pictures currently on your hard drive that you think are self-expressive.
• NO CAPTIONS!!! It must be like we're speaking with images and we have to interpret your visual language just like we have to interpret your words.
• They must ALREADY be on your hard drive - no googling or flickr! They have to have been saved to your folders sometime in the past. They must be something you've saved there because it resonated with you for some reason.
• You do NOT have to answer any questions about any of your pictures if you don't want to. You can make them as mysterious as you like. Or you can explain them away as much as you like.

( Read more... )

Hello, everyone~!
I'm really sorry I've been gone for so long, but as you've probably guessed, my real life has been tits up as of lately. I would go into detail, but as you can probably guess from reading this post, I am having someone type this for me, and I would not want to force them to write Ulysses. It made me very sad when I saw that on my last post so many of you—my dearest friends—came out and said hello to me, but I couldn't respond to you. It especially breaks my heart that because of my inability to type, I've lost contact with so many of you that have only wanted to spend time and help me. To that, I would like to reveal that I've recently restored contact with a few of my friends through the Skype client, and I would like that few to become many!

If any of you have the Skype client, and feel comfortable with talking to me through it, I would be absolutely elated to get in contact with you again. My username is bradthebard. I hope to speak with all of you soon—even if you think we have grown apart, it's not your fault, it's mine, and I think we can thus easily repair our relationships in your eyes.

Signed,
Samantha (dictated but not read)

I feel sorry for Constance, she really did get the short end of the stick.

(I wouldn't marry Oscar Wilde, just have casual sex with him.)

Summer's majesty, upon us at last.
I slip on my sneakers to greet the morn jogging;
laces met with a hand even looser,
I will not tighten them- it hurts.

• 18:40 Natsu no Arashi's OP: The shadowed out bodies have such a subtle definition in HD, adding to it a tasteful, childish sense of eroticism. #

• 01:16 I wonder if Simon and Garfunkel ever spooned. #

Hello!
Boy!

What do you think about
DROOLING?

Isn't...
INCREDIBLE?








translation: mint_eclair popped my Pokemon Wi-Fi cherry tonight, and is apparently as talented a writer as James Joyce.