Why do you write shit?

i write shit because it’s all i know.
i’m sure, if i knew more, it’d still be shit.
then again, that depends on who’s looking.
being art and it’s subjectivity,
anything created has the
potential of being good, or shit.
i make shit because
like my body,
i need to release waste.
i’d sooner be hated
than falsely appreciated.
my shit may sink,
but to whose nose?
we should all continue to
make because it is a source
of inspiration to another.
we all work off the same
shit pile, but we see it
in a slightly different way.
let us plug the toilets,
and defecate on the floor.
maybe then others
will come to recognize
shit from actual shit.

Embarrassment caught in between

i’ve got something stuck
in between my teeth.
i think it was from a
meal passed, but
who can really tell?
maybe those that didn’t
say a damned thing
when talking to you?
forgive their embarrassment,
they were only trying to spare
themselves from admitting to
having actually been judging you.
but that’s okay, it happens.
what i can’t get over is
how they let me walk
around with my
pants zipper down?
no wonder it felt cool.

I don’t know

allow me to
point
you in this direction.
don’t follow my lead
though,
this is just what i’ve been told.
i presume scraps of truth
in what’s been said.
reason rests upon
fanciful belief.
belief and fact,
skewed,
impede judgment,
to which each slant levels.
distorted facts contort belief
towards irrationality.
i don’t know what i know.

Sloan rocks Canada Day, courtesies dismissed

Happy Canada day fellow Canadians. I went downtown to watch Sloan, for free, which was great. I was surprised that my city had a better band playing music than that at parliament hill.

Anyways, the atmosphere was lively. People seemed to be enjoying themselves. My experience was slightly soured by the inconsiderateness of some of the people. For example, to hold the door open for someone, when you really don’t have to, and they walk by without any sort of acknowledgement. Surely I’m thankful when someone does something for me that they don’t have to, so why don’t others display the same appreciation? I told him he was welcome, but he obviously didn’t care. I guess we live together but for ourselves?

Another incident was when an impatient lady was standing so close to me in line at a convenience store, that when it was my turn to pay she just jumped in front of me. Apparently, her time is more valuable than mine? I can be selfish, but there’s some sort of unwritten societal norms we’ve created, that others feel above.

Yes, we are all different. We have a variation of: tolerances, understanding, knowledge, but to act as if others do not warrant any sort of decency, regardless of your opinion or their actions, shows a disregard to your fellow beings.

Maybe I’m making a big deal about nothing? Maybe we need examples of people like that to show us what not to become, so that we can set a better example for others. With those minor issues aside, Sloan put on a kick ass show, as usual, and all I had to do was use a bus ticket. I’d be up for more concerts that cost a bus ticket.

Normalcy not so normal

we’re both human.
but you like this,
i like that.
you behave like this,
i behave like that.
well, can that be normal?
of course, difference is normal.
yet, what’s with this classifying one another in terms of normalcy?
a mental illness, or difference in what’s typical is not normal,
but we’re suppose to accept homosexuality as normal?
i think we’re all normal.
but when comparing each other,
our differences make us abnormal.
why?
because we’re different,
and what you say is right,
i say is wrong.
i read somewhere that it’s easiest to point out difference,
but harder to connect with the similarities.
it maybe be difficult to accept the differences,
but maybe it’s easier to do so
if we remember we’re all part of the
same whole.

Tagline chips away Pringles

working, i was unpacking a box full of Pringles.
upon the transporting package was the slogan,
“you don’t just eat them.”
what the hell does that mean?
i’m not to sure what else i’d do with a chip.
i don’t doubt there are many other uses
for chips, but i can’t actually fathom
actually realizing them.
i’m curious in knowing the thought process
of Pringles promotional team.
did they happen to use the chips as a
some sort of sex fetish?
dip dip maybe?
the chip is not meant for spreading, butit’s worth the effort.
or Pringles make for comfy pillows?
wait, could it be that they’re used as confetti?
regardless, i’m lost at their solution.
if you have a better idea, share,
it’s most likely better than theirs.

Living to make-believe understanding

Since I was 5 years old, I’d always had a compulsion to make, but that doesn’t mean I was destined to become a creative. I just happened to like art-related things. And just because I’ve got a diploma in an art related field, doesn’t mean shit.

Or maybe it means exactly that? No, that can’t be true. Who in the right mind wants to hire someone for their shit? A coprophile? A farmer? Either way, I’m not a big enough shit, nor produce enough to satisfy the needs of supply and demand. I create because it’s fun to imagine. Now I’m feeling pressure that I must create things that hold retail value with no real intrinsic value.

I still live to pretend, maybe imagine the ideal. But I’ve noticed, this can be harmful to one’s own mental health. Living contrary to reality is an open request for hardship, but can also be a source of inspiration. I think the problem is that the environments I’m immersed in do not encourage my creative tendencies. Therefore, I’m left creating halfhearted ideals whose force is expunged but misconception. Or, I just create when I want to create because making things when I feel like it usually turn out better than those that are forced.

It seems that I’ve spent my life creating something do not understand. But according this newly acquired paper, I know something. Then what’s with all this doubt?

Taught to traverse the stream

It’s hard to see without
and it’s hard to see with.
Blind to awareness,
yet, aware of the blindness.

I forget where I was reminded, but I rediscovered the idea of stream of consciousness writing from a fellow’s blog. It reminded me of my idea generation teacher. Her name was Jane and nature had crafted her beautifully. Physically, she emanated the radiance of a 20 year old, regardless of being older than that.

But with physical beauty aside, her personality and presentation of herself made me happy. Her manner of presenting the course information, being very dramatic and gestural, but she was a formally trained actor, made be smile. I could barely contain my contentment with her enthusiasm. She stopped to question me. I don’t blame her. I’m the only kid in the class with a huge smile cracking his face in half. I responded to her, in front of the whole class, that I was enjoying her being. I might not have said that exactly, but that’s what I was trying to express.

The positivity she garnered made anything seem possible. I wish I had more time being her student, but sadly, it was only for a semester. Getting back to the point, stream of consciousness, she introduced to me the idea of a note book in which I set a timer and wrote down whatever came to mind, unfiltered.

At the time I found the process a bit silly. Now, looking back on that exercise, I realize it’s usefulness. I’ve tried, in some respect, to write without forethought – being the most natural display of thought – but I’m also guilty at interfering in such processes.

I guess what I’m saying is hamburger bun, peanut butter octopus, cucumber, horse riding jockey foot sandwiches would not be as tasty as they sound. You might as well eat the ass of a gremlin. I’m sure neither would be tasty, but one would taste better than the other. Underwear. I guess I’ve started to go with the flow.

Chile seasons the outback

No, I did not misspell Chile. World Cup has started a couple days ago. I’m excited more about this Cup because Chile has qualified – my dad is from Chile. Today was the day that Chile’s group all played. The Dutch spanked the Spanish, which I did not see coming. And then the Chileanos beat the Aussies. In both cases, it’s good news for team Chile. They are not known for being a powerhouse (top) team, but with Spain losing, it could work in their advantage. Win or lose, preferably win, I’m just glad for Chile. My dad has been in Canada longer than he has Chile, but I sense his pride, maybe nostalgia even, for his heritage permeate whenever Chile is involved in such events or news. So like I stated earlier, win or lose, I’m just glad to see Chile. At least let them get out of their group.

Making the beautiful death I enjoy

what?
what do you mean I’m
expendable?
you mean to tell me that my efforts are in vain?
well, that cannot be.
i’m real and i have something to say.
you can’t brush me off,
i exist.
no, you’re right,
i won’t be along for long.
so what’s this effort?
i make for now, but i cannot make for the future.
coming to realization of my dispensability,
i must create for myself.
if i create for others, i might as well just not create.
i’d much rather create my death,
than let another.