So here is the thing. I might have had a great fucking time if I would have stayed home rather than going to the bar. When I left I swear to god the bananas I bought two days ago were green. I went to the bar, they were yellow, I came home and they were yellow with brown spots. I fucking swear I should pull up a chair and see if I can see that shit happening before my eyes. Somehow I had a drunken ephiphony that if I could see such slow and subtle changes then I might be able to measure the unmeasurable moments that stream past me in my existence. Question now is weather or not I want to pull up a fucking chair and stair at a bushel of bananas...............L8er.
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my post from today (yesterday - but i've not slept yet, so to me, still today) was about time. time and space and god. the concept of god. sort of written as god. i think god is bad at rhyming. or maybe, when i get to thinking particularly seriously about something, i rhyme poorly just to lighten it up.
there are buddhist monks who meditate on corpses left open in the air for the animals to take.... they watch them change, like bananas, only a little more to my taste. ;o) me and the macabre.... only it's not macabre. it's how things work. it's what happens to everything in time.