weeks, two (plans, none)

Those times you ration up for hunger pangs of exotic origin..

And you forget that you’ve stashed chocolate and oranges in your room, only to rediscover them, and realize you’ll not have to wander out across the bushveld in search of ice cream.

Now. Where’s my frakking chapstick?

The current of book of my obsession... (Nine chapters deep).

A Little History of the World, by E.H. Gombrich

He plays to some stereotypes at the end of each chapter, which has me going... Whoa. Whoa... (Joey a la Blossom style). But, I admit I do love this dumb/wonderful bundle of parchment.. 

Now playing: 

30 songs | 1 hour, 50 minutes

Almost Like Being in Love | Nat King Cole

Stand By Me | Ben E King

Twistin' the Night Away | Sam Cooke

Boys, What I Was Thinking... | The Beatles

Moonlight Bay | The Beatles

La Vie En Rose | Louis Armstrong

I Was Made to Love Her | Stevie Wonder

Use Me | Bill Withers

Journey into Melody | Stanley Turrentine

This Will Be Our Year | The Zombies

Spooky | Dusty Springfield

I Can't Get Next to You | The Temptations

Fuck You | Cee Lo Green

Real | Lupe Fiasco; Sarah Green

Call Me | Kimbra

The Other Side | Bruno Mars, ft Cee-Lo Green

Going On | Gnarls Barkley

Quiet Dog Bite Hard | Mos Def

Little Secrets | Passion Pit

Love Me Again | John Newman

Lights Go Down | Basement Jaxx

Two Way Street | Kimbra

Parachute Heart | Grace Potter & the Nocturnals

Timekeeper | Grace Potter & the Nocturnals

Bossa per Due | Thievery Corporation; Nicola Conte

Vanishing | Architecture in Helsinki

Hiszekeny | Venetian Snares

Eneby Kurs | Subtle

On | Aphex Twin

Marienbad | Julia Holter

conversational jazz (ἐ)

“Do you talk to everyone like this?”

I was a little buzzed, leaning back on the blanket, staring up at the Milky Way. (λ)

And to be honest, the question flustered me. It wasn't offered in the usual accusatory tone. In fact, it was half surprise, half compliment. (Or so it seemed so at the time, I wasn't one hundred percent sober). I’m not sure I gave a completely honest answer.

I wish more people would let me talk to them in the manner that my brain organizes my thoughts. Thing is, many find it disconcerting. Or annoying. Occasionally infuriating.

I will detour from the conversational path, briefly on a tangent. I’m still going in their general direction—I’m just taking the scenic route—surely there will be another exit to the interstate along the way.

I've never understood the annoyed burst from someone, “What the hell does that have to do with it?”

And I’ll blink, wondering what the hell they’re so frustrated about, and then explain the logical progression to whatever my memory or some firing synapses had recalled or produced.

People get on a roll, and hold it against you if their line of thinking is interrupted. Or you’re seen as rude should your mind appear to wander from their sparkling repartee.

As if on the brink of scientific discovery, eyes wild with their train of thought stretching out ahead of them, rather than just standing around sharing some anecdote they've shared before, polished in front of a different crowd of people.

At least, that’s how it can feel. Then, though, I've always been more of an awkward, outgoing introvert, myself. (π)  I like it when people just let me be that way. Not have to put on a façade and pretend otherwise. Having to be crass, or sophisticated, or learned, or funny, or whatever the situation calls for, to bolster the ego of someone else for the sake of social niceties.. It's exhausting. (ί)

So, no. The honest answer is I don’t. I rather wish [hope] more people would let me, though. (ς)

Summer Milky Way | Farm Hakos/Namibia |  Gerald Rhemann

(ἐ) Or 'the odyssey and oracle.'

(λ) In the past month I've read several articles on the disappearing Milky Way. I assume they mean in the states. The night sky in Namibia is, without contest, one of the most staggering things I've seen in my entire life.

(π) Awkward is one of the eight or so words I've spelled incorrectly my entire life, without fail. It wasn't until my twenty-ninth year, that I realized I could remember to spell it correctly, by considering that the picture it presents graphically is, in of itself, awkward. How could it not be, with two “w’s” shoved on the front end of the thing?

(ί) Though, prurient conversations, I take exception to that kind of vulgar. The ribald, I am very relaxed with.. Then again, talking openly about sex just seems like good common sense.  

(ς) Or, ἐλπίς in the Greek...