Float Dissolve

Warning: some of these are not for the faint of heart.

(Infected by Artkrush)

I feel cold laying on the floor dreaming of asian porn.

Liquid meals wrapped in vaseline. I can’t begin to explain these numb moments.

Scratching or unforgiving. I woke up and splashed cold feelings on the doorway.

I look at her with a longing I should only feel for someone who isn’t there. Isn’t breathing the same air. And I would imagine an argument will ensue.

I smelled the clothes she left in the bathroom. Strips of red.

What do you mean? What is wrong with you?

I keep acting like this has never happened before.

I just do.

He stood on that street and observed what he could see in front of him. We find this to be so valuable.

I like thinking about the hands that touched the drywall in my apartment. The hands that painted these walls. The electrician that installed the lights.

Keeping track of your thoughts is art. Or not. Depends on how you present it.

Just like web design. You can style your information however you’d like. What really matters is the information itself.

So what makes it important? Originality. Something we haven’t heard before. Is that possible? Kind of.

Everything in this apartment has a story as to how it got here. Right here at this moment in time. Never again (maybe). I can look at the bear slippers my daughter wore today and recognize that her feet were in them. Walking through grass. Walking around her grandparent’s house.

And it seems so sad looking down at them. Empty. I feel like crying. I have to just accept these things.

I have thought about cutting my hands off. Since I rely so heavily on them. Not without the notion of one day replacing them with hyper-realistic hands. I’ve been thinking a lot lately about living in a virtual world. I can see how a civilization could implode upon itself in such a manner. Reducing all of our thoughts to nanoscale and living out our lives somewhat invisibly.

Is it a blessing or a curse to have the ability to want to know why we are here?

117 (free) Quicktime clips of ‘Jay’s Journal’. From sleepwalking to juggler’s brains to fingernails, plenty of great information.

Also really interested in reading this: ‘Theatre of The Mind: Raising the Curtain On Consciousness’

I had a fascinating dream this morning. I would have remembered much more if I would take my pursuit as an oneironaut seriously (read: at all).

A few blurry aspects that I was able to bring back with me:

The image of my ex-girlfriend sitting on a porch talking with me. She was terribly wrinkled and tanned like someone who has been smoking all their life. Her voice was very coarse for apparently the same reason. I can’t remember at all what we were talking about. The interesting part was her face kept going in and out of focus and at one point her skin smoothed out and she looked young again. It kept changing.

I was in the backyard of a house and I believe there was a pool. There was something like a party going on. Various people from my past kept showing up.

My favorite part was when I mentioned to someone that women used to be able to fly. That a long time ago it was a very normal occurence for women to fly but due to societal pressure they gradually stopped doing it until everyone forgot that they had this ability. At that moment an anonymous character lifted herself off the ground.

In other news the office might be getting Thai for lunch today. That makes me smile.

Kiva provides a new, sponsor a business option for individuals to connect with small enterprises in developing countries through flexible loans.

(Infected by Metafilter)

I woke up with Haley and gave her some Raisin Bran while she watched the Disney channel. I sat at the computer and read through my heap of RSS posts. After trying to wake up Wendi a couple times (she was up all night fighting crime) I brought Haley out on her little motorcycle. She pedaled her way all around the neighborhood.

My favorite part of walking with her was when there was a van parked in the entrance of a driveway blocking our path. It was the first driveway in a circle (which she loves riding around) so I asked her if she just wanted to cross the street and skip this one. She said no. We probably waited around fifteen minutes or so until the van drove off and we were able to continue. No complaints. Once the van pulled out Haley said, that was nice of the car to move. What a brilliant outlook.

After that there was a boy trying to start a lawn mower. He wasn’t pulling very hard so it wasn’t starting. Haley parked next to a bush and mentioned how much she liked the shade. We stayed there for a few minutes until the boy moved the lawn mower into the grass and we went by.

No hurry, no aggravation at something/someone being in your path. Stopping and noting how nice it was for them to move once they do.

I need to shut up more and listen to my child.

(Infected by Artdorks)

))<>((
forever.