Reframing Your Past

A Focused Free Write: At this moment in my life, things are coming full circle. Past choices and their results resurface. Similarly, habits of choice bring about events that rhyme with past moments. The idea that seems to surface in my mind throughout all these ideas and the words people bring my way, is that acknowledgment that you stay with yourself for life; when life starts to bend back on itself, and you stop running and look back and realize: you are with yourself, your ideas goals beliefs for life [but you can be worked and sculpted to suit your desire and purposes]. This is natural. Its beautiful. Because it causes you to understand that ideas survive? What you knew in your heart was real, you are forced to acknowledge as real. At the same time for me, it has brought me back to art. To making. In this moment of reflection, I crave to revisit myself and observe the rich landscape I have become. Acknowledge myself as a collection of ideas and experiences. These experiences need you to come back [??]. There's parts of yourself that might be emerging more frequently now, but when other parts of yourself you forgot exist come out, and now is the time to understand the factors at play in making those experiences possible.

WARNING EXPLICIT: A Free Write Confessional: I have had: the best sex of my life in the staircase of universal studios done drugs in the desert, surrounded with washed out crusty drum and bass heads craved to have sex with a stranger and hated in the next day all sweaty in a stink of rotten sweat, feeling like bones covered in white glue loved someone and extended the joy with Vicodin listened to all the good music first and now im dry fucked early and fucked bad got an std in the same life i have: felt up and seriously made out with the most beautiful french girl in the world had a friend kill himself watched the mid thirties hobbyists launch beautiful model boats in the pond and wished to play fell in love with my imagination of the tattoo lady who lived on the third floor got busted for trying to look at paris hilton by my friends mom found my same friends mom kama sutra book and sex toys, which were shown by my friend, which made me think she would have been more open about things had a gay man cheer me on to look up said photos took a pilgrimage to an architectural destination and peed myself in the bathroom smoked lucky strikes and drank prossecco on the roof walked through the rooms of houses of people of my childhood. i was getting a tour of life and had no idea, now these places are gone, i dont have access taken a shower from a sack of water hanging from a tree imagined i was flying and had to focus to leave the ground Life is beautiful, its so rich. I've already seen it all in a way. Nows the time to appreciate all the stories I have in my back pocket. Trace their origins, learn about them, and construct them into my own life. HALLELUJAH

Your Taste, Your Attractions will define what you end up with

The music of Moderat reminds me of Canada, of my childhood enemies Grant and Elise, two names I haven’t written since I was a child. My head went cloudy, I made out with ___ last night. Now the reaction is that I feel a part of me that was and is doubtful of what a relationship between us would look like. There is definitely a sense of motherliness about her. Also she is so clean, pristine, untouched, natural and healthy; a truly alive person. Yet what she finds funny seems childish -- isn’t that what I wanted? No its beyond childishness. Also what would it feel like to be dating her and then hanging out with ___ and ___ all the time. And ___, they would all become my close friends, as they are her close friends. I know who they are, I can feel in my gut their idiosyncratic form of being a young adult that finds itself to be naïve and a little introverted and childlike. Is childlike really the right word to use? It seems that what I find myself contending with is a belief that theirs is a poor sense of taste. What is my taste even comprised of, however, and what can I really call meaningful about anything in American culture except the fact that it does all revolve around personal experience, whereas greek music and culture im sure revolves around the experience of the group and home? American music, American youth experiencing this product of music that has been delivered from a far off place, the individualistic music I listen to, is nighttime music, music for when no one has a face, and were all just dancing, and the mystery is stimulating. Some of it may come from a collective, group place, but in our postmodern style to re-appropriate, we acknowledge these works as a sort of social artifact that is paid homage to and our personal sensibilities are thought to be enlightened and at a level of superiority. Almost like collecting objects, like a packrat. Like a rapper who has too many cars. Like the soulless center of materialism. Where are the people you love in this experience? You distance yourself as you pursue yourself in this abstract form.

PACKRAT BLOG

What does a pack-rat's blog look like? Are there those who pack information away into blogs, pack it away for safety, or for non consumption, or rather it is info which has little use as food What does a pack-rat who writes look like versus a pack-rat who packs away all their material objects. maybe the lack of efficiency of material investment is the only cause for their seeming disability and dysfunction

RIPE BANANA

This is the end of the thinking that no one has a voice. even your voice in your own head will grow larger. grow your voice, ripen it the right way, through positivity. Ripe bananas growing on a tree, they will fall, but when they do, delicious and the peel is thrown away and maybe stays on your table for a while before it does but delicious, and nutrious and one can always tell, if one looks, fruits which have pesticide on the outside what is smart? it is an evolution, what you're ready for you will hear everything else, you will only hear as a baby will hear and everyone should expect no less than this from you to remember that all are on a different plain is important, a different place where they exist exists and you may too visit this place or perhaps have, you know when you have i suppose somewhere in your gut and now hibernate

MAY HEY NO WAY DAY

he walks out into barain afghanistan what had he heard about this place, almost nothing as he entered the city, dogs walked the streets, he wept as he tried to tell himself it wasnt happening. A german man walked out of a store as he passed the gates of the city in some german he didnt understand it was dark and dreary it transformed into the brilliant lackluster of electric strings and bam rock and roll and london, the days are just as cloudy as the electricity of indoor concert shows people dance and theres no break in rhythm just go go go and he leads the show believe it or not none of them end up knowing what to do how does a story unravel to be something that is subconscious and not so face value, i dont want to hear the voice of someone else, just the voice of my own voice my own voice is the most beautiful i want to find the right trajectory for my own expression dark corridors, and elastic bends, i have a chance down in these docks where no one else can go dark grey and the water is right nearby, in love with a feeling and i can give you what you seak, treasures and surfaced here above the beautiful salty ocean, which gives a slight rush towards the rocks theres a very odd dew man, by the stairs, where is he looking, i will protect you, beautiful girl with roses on your cheeks and warm breaths of air english scottish and irishman, the banded few from a place that is covered in moss and dark skies whiskey scotch with light blue traces of gold wheat the fun comes here from running in and out of the symbolism and what is sentence and what is not, this is not a new idea, but one which is very innaccessible