arbitrary thoughts on a midsummer's night

I am only one of the 6.7 billion people alive on the earth right now. Only one of the 96 billion people who have ever lived on the earth. (To be freaked out by the ever-increasing amount of people on the earth, go here)

Right now this 1/6.7 billion wants to:
* run. run into the night. exhale the word "escape"
* live in a tree house for a while. hear running water.
* breathe in the emanations of godesses.
* figure it all out. figure every goddamned thing out.

237 reasons to have sex

"After asking nearly 2,000 people why they’d had sex, the researchers have assembled and categorized a total of 237 reasons — everything from 'I wanted to feel closer to God' to 'I was drunk.' They even found a few people who claimed to have been motivated by the desire to have a child."

An article on the research is here.

Meditation might be in order, since it kind-of feels like I am filled with fractals.

manic from the sunlight. manic from the sunlight. manic from the sunlight. manic from the sunlight. manic from the sunlight. manic from the sunlight. manic from the sunlight.

I Love Math

"Comedians, they understand how sad it is to tell a joke, but only clowns are scary, it's the truth."

So I found this band I like - I Love Math - but I am too tired/busy to get all obsessed with them. Can someone get obsessed in my stead and then report back to me? They've got that whole alt country thing going on, although the sound is less country and more indie, so if there is some whole genre of music out there like that, then they probably belong to it.

Thanks!

Sing it, brother.

"The striving to find a meaning in one's life is the primary motivational force in life." -Victor Frankl

I'm officially old.

A student who works in our office just asked, "Who is Public Enemy?" My co-worker and I just shook our heads and walked away.

Can't I just die a little on the inside?

It's fucking exhausting trying to maintain my sanity in a crazy world.

It's the world that's crazy, not me. It's the world that's crazy, not me. It's the world that's crazy, not me. It's the world that's crazy, not me. It's the world that's crazy, not me. It's the world that's crazy, not me. It's the world that's crazy, not me. It's the world that's crazy, not me. It's the world that's crazy, not me. It's the world that's crazy, not me. It's the world that's crazy, not me.

It's crazy jazz harp, man.

Am I going to go to jazz hell if I like Alice Coltrane more than John Coltrane? Because I do.

Sweet, sweet nicotine

I'm a non-smoker...again. I think this go-round will take. I just have to avoid break-ups, writing papers, and freaking the fuck out for no discernible reason. A moody grad student who makes bad choices about relationships can handle that, right?

UPDATE: Four hours later and I've already had a freak-out, although it did have a discernible reason. But I did not smoke a cigarette. I did, however, require a frappucino. Yay evil empire of Starbucks!

From Get Your War Motherfucking On

(Clickity click the comic to make it bigger. So you can properly curse the absurdity of the world.)

not an haiku

i want to yield. press up against something soft. lull my tongue.

On a scale of 1 to really, really crazy...

How crazy would it be if I quit everything, moved to Houston and became a dance/movement teacher? A little crazy? Really crazy? Really, really crazy?

There is a slight possibility that I have lost perspective on my life. Slight.

They should have left the blood and the gore in the children's stories.

Why can't I fall asleep and wake up in a fairy tale? With talking animals and fairy godmothers and pretty dresses and lessons that are easy to learn. Oh so easy to learn. Where everything is pretty pretty pretty.

But I do not want dreams. (I want dreams)
I do not want dreams. (I want dreams)

I love Body Choir.

Roses the color of blood, I say. Roses the color of blood.

Ocean of Noise

I am not obsessed with either Project Playlist or The Arcade Fire. But I did find the Arcade Fire song that I am not allowed to listen to because it makes me feel things.

And here are the lyrics, in case you want to sing along while crying, rocking back and forth, and thinking about all your failed relationships. And who doesn't want that, really?

In an ocean of noise
I first heard your voice
Ringing like a bell
As if I had a choice, oh well!

Left in the morning
While you were fast asleep
Into an ocean of violence
A world of empty streets

You've got your reasons
And me I've got mine
But all the reasons I gave
Were just lies to buy myself some time

In an ocean of noise
I first heard your voice
Now who hear among us
Still believes in choice?
Not I!

No way of knowing
What any man will do
An ocean of violence
Between me and you

You've got your reasons
And me I've got mine
But all the reasons I gave
Were just lies to buy myself some time

I'm gonna work it out
Cause time wont work it out
I'm gonna work it out
Cause time wont work it our for you
I'm gonna work it on out

Damn you, internet.

"I hope that you are a disaster. I'm sorry, but I do. I hope that you are thunder and lightning. I hope you are a forest fire, I hope you kill the dead wood and burn off the rotting leaves. With the canopy gone, the sun can get in. You need new growth. I hope you're terrible and broken and perfect." - That Joey fella from A Softer World.

PTSD is such a mood-killer

Would you be offended if someone said "Your eyes make me wonder if you are using me because you are dead inside?"

Yeah, I thought so.

But what if you actually were dead inside?

Hmmm...

Mad (but, sadly, non-marketable) Skillz

Does anyone know of a well-paying job that involves dancing, writing and kissing? Because those are the only things that I am really good at.

Girls taking pictures