Food is a reward. It is a fact. And a holdover from days, years, decades of "discipline" (call it what you will, I've come to understand and know it by it's other name: abuse). I have managed to unwire many things hard coded into me and I am happy for that. It is one of the things that has been very difficult to dismantle. "You can eat when the work is done". The entire idea of getting caught eating. Getting caught eating first. I've been deconstructing why exactly it is I feel so uncomfortable eating around other people and I do know that has something to do with it.
Getting punished for eating or resting before the assignment is done. Even alone it is still enforced consciously to avoid the unconscious recoil. Even before cutting weight for the wrestling team and working to the point of exhaustion because getting caught in the house brought severe consequences for quite some time to the point where, and I will grant him this, my father would see me working and tell me it was okay to stop and I would insist on continuing because his word was not too be trusted. It plays back into the whole he says one thing and waits and watches and waits and then springs the trap the next day or two weeks off or two months off. Sycophant in a way. An issue of control.
How he used to strap a governor on my face. What the hell was he afraid of? We could've been friends. Left and right barrels with one trigger. Ah well. The point is this: artifacts. Afterimages that have refused to fade through the years and I have to remind myself there are many more to come and many more erasers to try. An aversion for food is very unhealthy. I will strive to continue to dissociate the two. Food is necessary and vital and has nothing to do with occupation, preoccupation, goals, failure, desertion of duty, breaks in time, success, or operations. If I am eating it is because I should be, not because I've somehow tricked my way into it or trapped my way to a plate or have let someone down by taking the time.
In the meantime while I try to enforce this very simple principle, I will continue to attempt to escape and nibble when I can. I understand it may seem strange, but if I ever eat with you heartily it's because it means a lot to me to be able to do so and I hope it comes across that way. I will be willing to do many other things with you before I will agree to eat with you at a table. There are still several more relics that need eradicated, raised, and (some) built upon. This one is the one that needs leveled to rubble first. A dead heat, but the one I want to focus first and burn away.
///Bonobo - "Pick Up" ...the loud minority...
///Tricky - "Overcome" nothing to gift, so ill gift you this, for now
Clean with alcohol only. Do not attempt to replace blown fuses. Do not remove access panels. Return to certified mechanic for regular maintenance. Made in the USA.
Showing posts with label bonobo. Show all posts
Showing posts with label bonobo. Show all posts
6/13/10
industry, power, respect.
today kicks off a week of industry. my life in its current format leaves very little time (relatively speaking, since if i were an expert in any of this stuff it would probably take me half as much time) for me to actually work on the things i, meeeee, wants to work on. if i could i would love to spend 8 hours doing markup and 4 hours doing art, but unfortunately the litany of job applications and form after form after form after form that has to be filled out leaves me with probably half as much time as i would like.
throw in cooking for sedentary people (two hours minimum average) cleaning up after said people (one hour minimum) plus other inbetween projects as assigned and what do you get? you get not very much time left at all. thats what you get. plus headaches. and rage boners. yeah, i thought it was weird at first too but ill get into that more later.
so anyway. at the risk of having all of my available free time ripped away from me for having jinxed myself i hereby declare this week to be industrialization week.
what this means to you? it means you shoulda bought that rain coat last thursday cuz its about to rain harder than a methane storm on titan. or harder than the main floor at a strip club on 25 cent lap dance night. whichever is more unpleasant in your mind. but thats a good thing though. because its like a dad who goes to beat his kid and the kid cringes but then the dad realizes he forgot to wear a belt to the museum that day so the kid is off the hook... but not like that. better? hmmm lemme start that over.....
what this means to you: this means that this running account will soon feature links to my works of fictions and poetry. maybe through rss... not really sure... but i will learn and when i do you will know because itll be up here. of course with anything i do theres a certain reserved shyness at first. well not everything. that is definitely not true. i love talking about sex. sex sex sex.... whatever im a guy. that just comes with the territory. seeeeex. penis penis penis penis LOL sorry . .... uhm where was oh yeah... so with sharing the fiction though, thats always a difficult thing for me. mainly because i failed the fiction segment of the degree i didnt get. go figure. i shoulda been a mechanic. its not too late though. actually when i do get a job i will probably go to technical school and just keep writing because i love it and would be doing it anyway.
sooo uhmmmmmm that is some seriously loose thinking up there.
recap? is that even necessary? probably. in summation
over the next 5 - 7 days i hope to give you access to my fiction, because i love you, thats why. i would be not telling the truth if i said i didnt care if you liked it or not. but i would also be not not telling the truth if i said ... what would i say there ... i thought i had a contrast going. apparently not.
time to move my third world media country into my second world. with strippers. and black jack. and cotton candy... but mostly cotton candy.
///bonobo - "pickup" thats that shiiiit. that beat and that flute together that just make you wish you coulda been at a house party in a sweaty basement with some young dj who had an ear and no cred who ripped it up every night with class and panache and who now graced you with rhythm so fresh you could have swore he knew you'd meet the girl you were dancing with that very night out on the porch and that she would love that song just as much as you did and that right when things were about to get awkward it would be the perfect spell to cast on her body. i dunno. lol. this song just puts me in a flow coma. whatever i was doing before it came on temporarily ceases so i can give my brain full capacity to bounce from beat to beat and dip in between the bass trees chasing after the flighty notes of the flute.
throw in cooking for sedentary people (two hours minimum average) cleaning up after said people (one hour minimum) plus other inbetween projects as assigned and what do you get? you get not very much time left at all. thats what you get. plus headaches. and rage boners. yeah, i thought it was weird at first too but ill get into that more later.
so anyway. at the risk of having all of my available free time ripped away from me for having jinxed myself i hereby declare this week to be industrialization week.
what this means to you? it means you shoulda bought that rain coat last thursday cuz its about to rain harder than a methane storm on titan. or harder than the main floor at a strip club on 25 cent lap dance night. whichever is more unpleasant in your mind. but thats a good thing though. because its like a dad who goes to beat his kid and the kid cringes but then the dad realizes he forgot to wear a belt to the museum that day so the kid is off the hook... but not like that. better? hmmm lemme start that over.....
what this means to you: this means that this running account will soon feature links to my works of fictions and poetry. maybe through rss... not really sure... but i will learn and when i do you will know because itll be up here. of course with anything i do theres a certain reserved shyness at first. well not everything. that is definitely not true. i love talking about sex. sex sex sex.... whatever im a guy. that just comes with the territory. seeeeex. penis penis penis penis LOL sorry . .... uhm where was oh yeah... so with sharing the fiction though, thats always a difficult thing for me. mainly because i failed the fiction segment of the degree i didnt get. go figure. i shoulda been a mechanic. its not too late though. actually when i do get a job i will probably go to technical school and just keep writing because i love it and would be doing it anyway.
sooo uhmmmmmm that is some seriously loose thinking up there.
recap? is that even necessary? probably. in summation
over the next 5 - 7 days i hope to give you access to my fiction, because i love you, thats why. i would be not telling the truth if i said i didnt care if you liked it or not. but i would also be not not telling the truth if i said ... what would i say there ... i thought i had a contrast going. apparently not.time to move my third world media country into my second world. with strippers. and black jack. and cotton candy... but mostly cotton candy.
///bonobo - "pickup" thats that shiiiit. that beat and that flute together that just make you wish you coulda been at a house party in a sweaty basement with some young dj who had an ear and no cred who ripped it up every night with class and panache and who now graced you with rhythm so fresh you could have swore he knew you'd meet the girl you were dancing with that very night out on the porch and that she would love that song just as much as you did and that right when things were about to get awkward it would be the perfect spell to cast on her body. i dunno. lol. this song just puts me in a flow coma. whatever i was doing before it came on temporarily ceases so i can give my brain full capacity to bounce from beat to beat and dip in between the bass trees chasing after the flighty notes of the flute.
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