And sometimes, when the fridge is defrosting (I'm guessing that is what it's doing), it sounds like it's trying to say something.
Unfortunately, I do not speak appliance.
Of Matters and AntiMatters: The Relativity of Stuff....and Things |
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When the water swirled down the kitchen sink's drain, it sounded like it was belching. A plumbing 'burp', as it were.
And sometimes, when the fridge is defrosting (I'm guessing that is what it's doing), it sounds like it's trying to say something. Unfortunately, I do not speak appliance. is a precious thing.
No one really knows how much has been allotted them, or another, really. Here today, gone tomorrow, and that goes for everyone, no matter their age. Death/destiny does not quibble over such things. Life does not come with a guarantee/warranty. That is why it is most important on what and with whom you share or use it for. Your life time. Every precious minute is a countdown to your, to everyone's, mortality. Sadly, most people have to work a large portion of it way doing things they don’t really enjoy, just to ‘live’, so it is what we do with the 'free' time that is of the utmost importance. Yeah, for me this has been an epiphany. Like a thump to the back of the head. I have the Lord of Time to thank for this. Sure, it hurt a little, but the benefit made it well worth a moment or two of pain. the virtual does as well!
As do feelings and emotions. Dunno why Data wanted to be human. Humanity isn't all that it's cracked up to be. Maybe that's the answer? Crack? Guess a new name will have to be created for geeks and nerds, since it is now trendy to be one.
It’s ubercool to be a geek, whether guy or girl. Gamer-cosplayer-comic book-fanboys/girls are what’s hot. They are the beautiful people. They've finally achieved popularity. Currently, anyway. But who knows for how long? Society, is fickle. Humankind, is fickle. So, what to call the ‘uncool’ now? ‘Lamers’? Wait, they could be hipsters since hipsters are like contraries, maybe that’d work? A subcategory of hipsters? But, that has ‘hip’ in it which is old timey for ‘cool’. How ironic, huh? Since they are trying to be cool by not being hip/trendy. Or something. So, what to call trendy geeks? Teeks? Terds, no, that just wouldn't work. Maybe Treeks and Nerts? Maybe it's best to just be yourself? Whatever that is. That if you hear ringing in your right ear, it means someone is speaking well of you, but if it is in your left ear, someone is talking badly about you.
I wonder, if you hear ringing in both ears at the same time, if someone is defending you while conversing with another who is talking trash about you? Or is that just called tinnitus? *sigh* I've had it happen a lot lately, one, then the other. Sometimes both. Like now. And sometimes one ear, or the other, will make this 'whoosh whooshing' sound, like listening to the ocean in a seashell. Or maybe it's just the Tardis. Or a tumor. But anyway, grams also says that eating the crust on bread will give you curly hair, but chewing on your hair will give you worms and singing at the table will give you a crazy husband, and if you sew on sunday you have to rip it out after you die with your nose, and a lot of other unpleasantries. Where do they get all this information from? I'm suspicious that not a word of it is true! Sometimes I wonder why I even get out of bed in the morning.
My dream world is much better (even nightmares) than my real world. Or vice versa. Because, which is which? Well, one of them, the one I will refer to as my dreamstate, is way more interesting and abstract. That secret life inside my head that only allows me entry when asleep (if I am, indeed, sleeping.) In my waking world (or at least the one I assume I am awake in) I’ll see some of the work of others that is truly amazing and brilliant and meaningful (I’m talking art and writing here specifically) then, I look at my own work and think how pathetically mundane and insignificant. My art is not exciting, it’s utterly boring, and my writing is silly and inane. Mostly. When I’m not talking out of my arse (like now) and/or sounding all preachy (like now) and/or just complaining (like now). It makes me wonder why I even try to do...anything. What does one’s life really matter in the end? Only to humanity, the rest of the universe, heck, every other living thing on earth, doesn’t care (and lucky for them. They don’t even realize what an impact we as a species have on them and the rest of the planet. And, btw, who do we think we are? Are humans the sole ‘owners’ of earth? I suppose we think we are, dividing it up amongst ourselves, taking and doing whatever we please.) Anyway, we lead these very brief lives in the overall scheme of things, and what do we accomplish? What is even the purpose of most? To procreate another to go on the same way? I told you this was abstractedlydistractive. It’s basically how my brain works. I sometimes have trouble keeping things cohesive. It takes a lot to hold the elements of the body and mind together at the same time, and not let either drift apart. I took these photos two or three years ago. I love trees! Thought I'd post them here since it is rather relevant with all the snow we've had. They were all taken as evening approached, from an attic window. zoomed in. The Snow actually falling after it got dark. Using flash.
Build huge snow creatures, of course! This is actually from the previous snowstorm, he (I'm assuming here it's a 'he' since it had no boobs and obviously was not anatomically correct in any way, shape or form) was already starting to melt some (and was dirty from cars throwing ick up on him.) I think, since the last storm, he's had some work done on him. Cosmetic snowgery, I imagine, since he was much better looking, and cleaner, too, last I saw him. Then I came across this in my travels- It was difficult to distinguish just what sort of monstrosity this was from afar.... So I approached the beast with caution....to spook it could prove dangerous! This is as close as I dared advance! I noticed it had a pine branch sticking out of it's hind *cougharsecough* quarters...wait, maybe it was it's tail? Yes, I suppose it was! That, or it backed into a conifer! Unless, that is, a previous traveler speared it? No, I think it was definitely the tail of this new 'species', a pigbullhorsedog, with it's massive legs and teeny tiny (horned? eared?) head!
Pretending is easy. Most learn to do so as a child.
Probably both the privileged, as well as those who are not. They just pretend different things, I suppose. The destitute might pretend (or at least imagine) what it would be like to have plenty of food, for instance. For some it might be pretending they are a fairy princess, or a fireman, or a mommy with their baby (dolls.) Pretend tea parties (hmm, I’m sure Sarah Palin pretended that.), forts under blankets, whatever/wherever their imaginations take them. Many games, I suppose, can even be categorized as pretend, it’s just, some remove individual imagination and replace it entirely or partially with someone else’s. Like RPGs, for instance (made for both children and adults.) Anyway, the point I’m getting at is, even as adults, the pretend doesn’t necessarily end. Or has to. Some pretend is still fun. Roll Playing (in a lot of different ways, hint *wink* hint), Cosplay, Reenactments, even sub-cultures like Steampunk, Rockabilly, etc. can enhance one’s life. Take you away from the here and now. Let’s you be a child again in some respects. Then there is the emotional pretending. Pretending (or convincing yourself) you are happy. That everything is fine. Your life is wonderrful and has meaning. Pretending that there is no global warming, that a God will answer all your prayers, that your government is doing what is best for you. Yeah, I know what your thinking, geesus she’s a cynical biatch. Maybe I am, but I sometimes pretend I’m not. Then again, I sometimes pretend I’m not from this planet or even dimension. That I belong to a race long since dead. Whatever get’s you through your day and makes you happy, right? A reassurance to the one you love, should not be made one day out of the year. If you love someone, let them know every so often, for one day they may be gone from you and it will be too late. Oh, and forego the mass produced cards you buy, with sentiments written by a stranger, instead, make one of these, or even a simple, hand written message that comes from your heart is a much, much greater gift. In my opinion. Valentine Puzzle Purse Start with a square piece of paper. (White is the front of the paper, teal the back.) #1 Valley-fold it into thirds. Unfold. #2 Repeat in the opposite. You will have the outline of 9 smaller squares. Write a message in the center square. #3 Fold the paper in half on the diagonal to form a triangle. Unfold and repeat on the other side. #4 Turn the paper over. Bring crease A over-top crease B. Press firmly to form a new crease on the diagonal of the smaller square. #5 Repeat on the remaining 3 sides #6 Turn the paper over..... #7+.....and twist close the paper into a pinwheel. First, re-enforce the 4 creases around the central square. As you do this, the 4 sides of the paper will rise up away from the central square. Twist these sides along their crease lines to form a pinwheel. Write messages on the 4 arms of the pinwheel (M1, M2, M3, M4) Be original. From the heart, or very personal and intimate (get the picture here? Maybe for a little fun, make it ‘things to do’) or just wild and zany. #8+ Fold the bottom arm of the pinwheel up (M1). Going anti-clockwise, continue to fold the arms inwards allowing them to overlap. Tuck the last arm (M2) under M1. #9 On top of the puzzle purse, draw a picture, a traditional heart, or maybe, as I did in the picture, an anatomically correct one, actually, it can be anything you want, depending on to whom you give it....hmm, I’m thinking some pretty interesting thoughts here...wait, where was I, oh yes, and indicate which arm of the pinwheel is to be pulled out first. Here’s how it works- The recipient receives the puzzle purse and pulls out M1 and reads the message. M2 is loose and can be read. Once M2 is moved aside, M3 and M4 can then be read. The recipient then pulls open the paper to reveal the inner message. You could challenge the recipient to refold the puzzle purse into its original form, but then, it’s Valentine’s Day and I’m sure you have better things to do (in fact, maybe some of the things you’ve printed on the fold outs! :) Here are a few antique examples- Scottish Valentine, or puzzle purse, dated 13, February 1784. A hand-written love poem, is decorated with symbolic eyes, hearts and eternity symbols, which may be read as a rebus. (from what I've read, Scots , at least in the past, took the making of ValDay cards very seriously.) Circa 1830, given by Peter Shirk to Barbara Hoffman, Caernarvon Township, Berks County, Pennsylvania. They were married on Valentine’s Day, 1832. (How saccharinely romantic is that!) Wow, they kinda remind one of throwing stars, don't they?
Shuriken. Hmm, I wonder if that would work better than an arrow to the heart? Nope. But, I supposed you could make one (a puzzle purse) for an ex, and write what you think of them on each of the fold outs. Every point a stab? For those who were scorned? No? |
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January 2018
AuthorAh, where to begin... |