Sometimes I Twitch Out

I have no clue if this is normal for everybody or if it is unique to me, but sometimes, maybe up to five times a week, I will completely twitch out for like 3 seconds. It only happens when I am alone, and what happens is I feel some shiver deep down and I have to shake it out of my body like a demon, and then it leaves my body through a loud vocal sound of some sort. Sometimes this feeling happens when I am around others and I can suppress it into just a big shiver. Maybe there is something the matter with me, but maybe not. Whenever I do this and make some random sound, I am grateful nobody was around to see the episode, because it is a normal occurrence for me, but an onlooker might have some questions to which I have no answers. IDK people! contact me if this happens, I think you can comment on these things.

Skipping is Fun as Hell

but if I do it in public people will think I’m a loon.

Seriously, it is the most fun method of locomotion available to humans. Walking is easy but slow, running is fast but hard. Skipping is easy and fast. It really is a no brainer for me to skip all the time, but I don’t want to be that guy that skips. Sometimes I wish I was mentally ill so I would have a reason to do things like that without being questioned. Why can’t we all do exactly what we want all the time if it doesn’t hurt anybody else? In my dreams I skip a lot, but bigger. I reach enormous heights and come down to the ground with great suspension to spring me back up even higher; but I have to walk everywhere in real life. 

I fantasize about this alternate reality in which everybody in the city runs and walking is outlawed in all cities. Picture: You walk out the front door of your building in the morning and are blinded by the sunlight, but a cool rush sweeps across your body as your eyes quickly adjust. It is the gust of people running by on their way to work. You watch the oncoming foot traffic until you see an opening and you merge in, accelerating  0-8 in 2 seconds. Wind blowing by your face, heart pumping fast; you are a wild animal. 

In this nature documentary on Africa I’ve seen a few times, this tribe in the Kalahari are the last people on earth to hunt by chasing their prey on foot. The hunters go out and find a group of kudu (large antelope thing) and single out the one with the biggest horns: he will tire the fastest carrying the most weight. They separate the victim from the group and one hunter begins a chase that lasts eight hours. One man runs down this kudu for Eight Hours until the animal gets so tired that it lies down and admits defeat, and the man is able to walk right to it and spear the beast point-blank. This is such powerful footage that is truly moving, to look into that animal’s eyes when it knows it will die. It fought such a worthy battle but could not win against man’s long distance run and sweat abilities. 

What’s the deal with shoes, while we’re at it? they are pretty pointless it seems, unless its in the city where there are actual substances of concern on the ground. Shoes should not be put on babies or children until it gets cold out. Shoes should be outlawed in the summer, so that the feet can get strong, and we can raise tough children. Winter shoes are obviously excusable and recommended. Why do we think the guys that don’t wear shoes are weird? they are just doing what their feet were made to do. I also don’t understand the discrimination against eating with fingers either; they are basically better sporks. If I am want for an eating utensil, I just use my fingers like a rational person. To heck with civilized, I am a human ape and I am king of the jungle. The few times in my life I have gone barefoot in public I’ve received comments of the ‘you are making the floor gross’ variety. I say to you, ‘what do you care? your feet are protected by shoes!’ Think people. My feet are in far more danger than yours, and I have clearly weighed the risks already, evidenced by the fact that I chose to wear bare feet. To skip in bare feet? perhaps not.

Come to think of it, even the guy that ran down the kudu was wearing shoes.

Potatoes are Seeds

I am waking up to the world. I struggle to know if those around me think about things the way I do. NO not about potatoes being seeds, that was just a lucky curse that happened into my thoughts. What I am talking about is day-to-day reality. If I am a simulation, so be it, but I still will enjoy life while I have it. If this is a freak accident of nature I will still enjoy it. If nothing goes my way I will still enjoy it. If the rapture comes I will not repent, out of stubbornness. If I die tomorrow it will have been a waste, but if I am immortal I think I’ll get bored. If given the opportunity to blow up a far off planet and see it happen, I would. If I could make world peace, I probably wouldn’t because that would be boring and overpopulation would kill my grandkids. If I could fly I wouldn’t because then I would be a bird and not a human. If I could travel through time, I would be a human on Earth in the Milky Way galaxy named Gary who does blogs, who measures said time in planetary spin/revolutions around the sun. If I was an alien, there would be life on other planets. If I was Christopher Columbus, I’d have a holiday in my name. If I was the richest person in the world, I’d be Jeff Bezos. What I see is that I can’t change the world, I can only adapt to it. I cannot control anything except myself and honestly thats a relief. How the heck easy is that? We have almost total voluntary control over ourselves. That is a nice feeling to have. 

A string of thoughts

It is love for one another that makes us lonely.
To remember something forgotten is to never have forgotten at all.
Connected to nature and to the people is what I long to be.
If what I long for is to sit beneath that tree,
then that is where I will be.
If he wants to see it
why can’t he? Why can’t He?

Let me not forget where I am now,
for if I lie here long enough,
I will become a part of it all.
The ants don’t care about me,
they know their business and will find their way.
The inchworm that crawls about my sleeve just seems lost,
for he knows not that I am otherworldly,
and that leaves do not shoot from these twigs I call arms.
Perhaps he is wise to something..
something like if I am here now, and not actively rocking his world, I am just as much a daily nothingness to him as he is to me.
These bugs are depraved, yet I need them.

Beauty is all around me, but if I stop long enough to admire every fallen autumn leaf, I would become no smarter than the leaf itself.