Journal Entry #8

Wow, went full throttle on the grammar and various corrections. Oh well, journals were written in the past, thankfully so?

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July 18, 2010 around 7:50pm

Walked to Borders and bought three books today. A fundamental book on drawing, cooking, and a collection of poems and stories written by Edgar Allan Poe. Headed backed to the Inner Harbor and peruse the books, called [friend] then continued perusing.

Perhaps, a journal is written to expel, contribute, criticize and just write whatever enters into the head, yo!

So far, still alive. Obviously, still writing from left to right in this archaic form of  writing medium.

Currently reading a book (not quite finished, perhaps later) on the ways reading organizes the mind. With its curvy fonts and transforms it into the super (better, virus free) super computer, thus named the “noggin”.

I think it’s a mystery on how humans are able to adapt to this form of communication. Able to stitch on more neurons somewhere in the brain, making a connection to anything.  It’s funny or rather astounding when one takes a moment in the streams of living on the functions of everything in life. The movement of the body and how it works, seems there are many intricate workings going on.

Plus, it didn’t help that buying these books and with no “time” to enjoy them. Maybe, all one can do is to maximize the amount of time enjoying these texts of printed ink on a dead tree.

What is the point in reading? Looking back and wondering, what is it that makes reading worthwhile?

It doesn’t do anything. Not making money with it. Answering the question deserves a decent explanation.

“Writing, the rite of earning to stroke a pen, in various degree’s, aight.”

Dreams, Again!

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“Better than the last dream, being deep fried in oil wasn’t too appealing, yet.”

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Dreaming during the day passes like a whispering wind.

Filling the conscious mind with wishes, aspirations and a bit of morbid humor, at times.

As today passes towards the nighttime, after a day of dealing with the physics of the physical plane.

The mind settles into the realm of rest.

What seems like a moment of passing time, a dream may arise like a natural phenomena.

Brief it comes and passes, much like the reflections of the moon lighting the waters surface. Soon to be forgotten and sometimes remembered even throughout another day.

Blahs!

Those Silly Thoughts

Another journal entry from the past, now edited! Couldn’t think of anything to else write…


July 15, 2010 Thursday @ 6pm

Still alive, yes! That’s a good thing. Feels kind of dull and boring, then again, its better than filling these “free” hours pounding booze and cigarettes. Although, would enjoy toking out for a bit.

Currently at the [deleted] harbor. Missed out on the free concert that happened yesterday. Oh well, at least it’s nice and quiet.

Tomorrow at Borders, heading out there with a coupon and going to check it out. On Saturday, there’s going to be a book sale at the library. If I’m not working with [deleted].

Yes, indeedy universe, the long hot days of summer spent with a good deal of napping, reading, radio and DS. What else is there to write?

I wonder how a writer would get into the “zone” and create page after page of text. It takes practice and a great deal of creativity.

I was doodling earlier downtown and a fellow complimented on my less than stellar sketch. It felt good and wished the dude luck on my part.

Attended the library, if you sat at a certain spot, fart noises can be heard from the bathroom. It’s pretty funny, at least the bathroom has good venilation.

Well, onward to the journey of life… aight!

“Breezy wind, finding the waters below,

looking downward and behold,

waves of water passing by!”

Twas a Foggy Minded Day

Hello, 2017! Nothing better than starting this current year by writing down an old journal entry. Stepping forward in time involves what experiences occurred in the past. Even if the entry contained bad grammar and major editing.

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July 11, 2010, Thursday, 4:59 pm

Expunging the emotions onto paper and let the uh… “cosmic energies,” flow into the mind while ink fills the page.

Sitting here at [delete], again. It has been cold here for the past few days. Currently, the good ol’ sun is shining his rays. Feels really good, considering it’s July and it should be nice and toasty outside. Its not cold, but it would feel nice to curl up to a blanket with a stout beer, maybe. For now, I’ll stick to a cup of coffee.

That’s life for you, with its explicit perceptions of useless things. Such as the color tone of a human. The constant mass consciousness of a particular reference to mannerisms. One of the few observations duly noted is how many people enjoy the constant mental stick poking of other people. Based on physical attributes or “superiority” based on accumulated physical goods?

Everyone does it or do they?

I think so.

It’s certainly a grand journey to be a human who encompasses the planet with other humans. All needing the daily uptake of nutrients and perform the duties of survival. Why is “man” acting according to the laws of other “men?”

“Talking and writing at the same time in the sun is fun!”

Au Revoir, Blanc Oiseau!

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This bird, I thought it was injured, and let it hang out. It passed, the same day as this post was written. Here’s a short story of what happened…

“Discovered this fellow yesterday,

sitting by the back doorway.

This was before the afternoon.

Gray colored clouds fill the skies.

Thought it would fly away,

but it didn’t, as the hours pass.

Observing the bird who was

sitting there and seemingly lost in thought.

All the while,

nothing bothered the bird,

including pedestrians and cats.

Eventually,

made a temporary refuge for the bird,

inside the home,

away from the cold weather.

Calm and quiet it was,

even in an unknown environment.

Letting it be and fell asleep.

Upon waking up,

it was dead.

After throwing it out,

in a garbage,

that this short thought was written.

Now its essence, relaxing, what a relief.”

Primarily, In Need of an Outing

male-restroom
“…Wait, why am I not wearing any clothes?”

A Moon in Scorpio person/guy/thingy. Similar to other pressing matters of the day, needed to make internal communications with the restroom…

Upon entering the restroom, it was the clean and sanitary, with a hint of diluted cleaning chemicals, refreshing. Most of all and importantly, a choice of paper towels or the hand blower.

After a moment of time, sound was heard a few stalls over. It sounded like clumps of dried mud bursting out of a cave. This “excavation” included the smell of putrid leftover gases of unknown origins. Thankfully, the ventilation system was in working order, much to the dismay of the vents that have to deal with the gases.

After the smell settled and the noises became a distant memory, the guy a few stalls over began conversing…


Bathroom-Stall Guy: Hey, man. I can smell your shit gas from here. Nothing worse than two guys taking a nasty rotten dump at the same time.

Moon in Scorpio: (I didn’t feel like responding, the smell was unbearable…) I hear ya.

B-Stall Guy: That’s life sometimes, some dumps take longer than others. What a day today.

Moon in Scorpio: What happened?

B-Stall Guy: Thinking about this and that, I feel like the future is uncertain. With all the crap in the news happening. Worries me, you know?

(The guy lets loose another torrent of farts).

Moon in Scorpio: Feel the same way at times too. Dealing with it as it comes along, emotionally and physically helps. I think. (Don’t know what to think at times).

B-Stall guy: An opinion to keep in mind, thanks bro. If I needed advice on how to deal with the intangibility issues of life. I’ll visit a shrink, jackass.

(Finally finished, like a good citizen of this planet, committed myself to proper sanitary procedures. Looking at the mirror, gave a slight grin. Nothing beats taking a fresh dump, and getting out of the congested gas filled building is better.

Upon leaving, felt something solid hit my head. It was a wet turd. Gave a quiet sigh and walked towards the distance).

Image: W.C.M