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Raised by Wolves

Gaki: writing myself Real

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Interlude: Reap what you sow...




Sometimes, the urge to take a little bit more focused path along the course of one's life is an epiphany that takes one by quiet surprise. The quiet contemplation of a an event at work, a flower blooming in a snowdrift. A sentence uttered by a friend, a character in a book or movie, a perfect stranger on the train to Paris having a conversation with someone you can't see.

I had really, really hoped that the next time I heard the sound of handcuffs, it'd be a quiet surprise of a different sort, with sexy results. I can safely report that SJPD drunk tank exhibts no signs of sexiness in any way, shape, or form. Everyone in there was brown, but I was too tired for social conjecture at the time.

Discovering this photo, belatedly, gave me a Memento moment until I realized that I couldn't possibly have taken it. I have to laugh a bit in retrospect, imagining the cops going through my phonebook looking for maybe someone to notify, only to give up in disgust when all of the entries come up as "Snake," "Net," "Madd," "Phoenix," "Baofu's Lair," and so on. Idly snapping a photo before deciding I was best left to my own devices, and that undoubtedly my cult bretheren and sistren would appear to dope me up on more sinister Kool-Aid before releasing me on more missions of obscure and unAmerican nature.

That said, I can only say I'm profoundly embarassed; just when I think I'm getting to a point where I'm getting a little bit ahead of the game, I get brought back nose-to-nose with my real human frailities. Stupidity, hubris, and willful ignorance of consequence do not by themselves add up to a superhero, only a broken Machine who's self-destruct circuit flips into overdrive once in a while. And that is succumbing to the system, rather than finding a way to overcome. And THAT is definitely far short of my goals, not to mention dangerous.

Ah, well. On the plus side, it was a learning experience. No serious harm to any living creature, beyond my hangover and 4-hour walk back and forth across town to track down my ride. And when my provisional license expires, I'll learn to love the metrorail system. Or monk it out for a while, stock up on ramen, save myself a four hour commute every day, and start writing more often.

Oh. I have a cameraphone. The magical record of my adventures shall now be, on occasion, in full color. And probably on foot. (Sigghhhh......)


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Seen amiidst the graffiti of the Cafe International bathroom today on Haight Street:

"This too, shall pass"

::old-man voice:: Graaaahh. Prophets are a dime a dozen on the Haight. ::cantankerous wheeze:: Can't throw a rock without hittin' a prophet. I forsee... that guy will get burned for a dub of oregano today! And the revolution's coming! ::cough, cough::

I'm just old and bitter. Where's mah tonic. I NEEDS ME TONIC!! And a rock. I tell you what, I... hey... where'd you go...?

Goddemn kids n' their prophets.

I kin see the future.

... where's me tonic...?

:sneaks in: heheheeeee :peek!:

Ok I just have to do this....~chuu :on the nose: XD

:runs out!:

I actually have more to say...but am a bit on the run down side....bed...less ska...bed...

AUGH! ~chuu'ed again! Is nowhere safe?!?

... wait, ska...? ::hesitates, turns:: No!! It's a trick!

::chibis, picksitup, skankin-circle-RUN!!::

I dun wanna say "I told ya so"...

'Cause I dun think I did.

::blink, squints whilst checking her faulty memory core:: Nope, dun think I ever did give ya the "don't drink and drive" kinda talk a'tall.

Hrm, pretty well puts a crimp on getting you up to oregon anytime real soon, now dunnit? *sigh*

Well, I know I learned from my DWI, I'll be glad to see you come out of this all the wiser, too. ;) Life goes on...funny thing that it is.

::hug::Catch ya later. MUCH later.

Re: I dun wanna say "I told ya so"...

The question of how I'll spend my time... makes me wish I had a porch. :) Thank ya, hun.

Hugs. The only real currency. ^_^

and start writing more often.

hmm... seriously? i've been asked to write a piece for the punk rock orchestra in the city and it would be cool to use some lyrics... maybe sung by a male punk singer with operatic, Wagnerian soprano vocals in the background... let me know if yer down. and yeah... sorry bout that =(

this shit will pass. hey, maybe this can inspire some punk-like rants. ;)

Ha, on first glance at this, I actually thought you wanted me to do vocals too, and my stage fright reflex immediately triggered my "drunken artist's syndrome" (via the "beatnik neuron" discovered by a right-wing pathology/neurology team during the 60's), causing me to automatically become very thirsty for a vodka martini.

Now I realize you just want lyrics. Collaborating is always fun; however, I've never really written anything in the "punk song" genre before. (I can't emulate most music that I like, unless it's karaoke night; refer to above paragraph). I've got some spoken word (punk in the sense that I thought up in two seconds and spat it in people's faces on a regular basis). I've got other random lyric-notes and short poems all through my notebooks which I hate to look at. I think I come up with more essays and short stories than anything else though. I might also be able to come up with newness.

Anyway. We'll get together sometime and kick thoughts around.

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