Ona Move Fog in my nostrils, painting the insides greyish blue, not to mention the tingly feeling that penetrates each little hair folicle and makes me breath like I've got air-right strips on my bridge. Life is changing at a rapid pace to accomidate for the need to keep strong and steady. Every alteration is sewing tightly together the patches of the past and setting clear glass foundations for the future. It has taken a strong shot of narcotics mixed with a quick blow to the gut to come to conciousness and realize that I am in fact not addicted like I thought I was but rather truely, utterly, devistatingly, involved in the most crazy thing this life has to offer...um!

Why is it that no matter what you do you feel like you've done nothing until that night when you truely do nothing and feel like you've changed the world? This weekend I've done nothing aside from falling in love with the little mexican woman at Guadalupe Homeless Project, become culture shocked by the Sanai Temple Synagogue and service, smiled and shaken hands with the little gay man from Will and Grace in Mel Rose, bumped into a stranger, fed my fish, slept naked in a sticky room, written a mediocure 7 page ethics paper, had a full-length conversation while sitting in a sink, and listen to lyrics that made my heart sink to some place that is too beautiful for the reality I have come to know. Maybe tonight I'll find something para hacer....

Speaking of spanish, I love horchata, especially handmade from King Taco in downtown and when ordered in very poor spanish, topped off with a mocking laugh from Jose behind the counter.

Here's a little something to think about. Everyday life reveals something to you and then you adopt that and it becomes a part of what you know as real. The dude sitting next to you learns something else and he becomes something different that understands a different real. If every person in the world is applicable to this direction of life, then at the end of the term (slash when you die) everyone's got a different answer to the test. I don't think its a true false test, I don't even think it's multiple choice, maybe more like an essay test...regardless, if every person has a different taste depending on the side of life they got to sample, then is there some overriding or low-laying reality that we are all missing? Does reality really exist if no one can access it? Even more, are there constants that are truely universal if only some people can access them? I think right now life looks like this to me:
~imagine a big earth made of frozen yogurt; its white and hard and the flavor is too complex to describe. Everytime someone tastes it they pick up a new spice or fruit or vegetable or broth in the flavor. Anywho, somewhere a few miles above the surface of the fro yo is this big silicon buble with holes in it and on the solid parts, there are bowls of extracts and ontop of all of those there are people. People are tasting the extracts, everyone there own, and they all think not only that all the bowls have the same flavor in them, but that they are tasting a part of the big frozen yogourt ball. The truth is none of them are even close to right, they are just sampling a piece of something that is trying to imitate the underlying ball. But I think that maybe, just maybe, some dude over the in eastern hemisphere got tired of his flavor and thought to move around a little bit off his extract bowl, found a hole in the silicon, and is now about to sample the white core...once he does, I doubt he will be able to describe it or even prove to anyone it's real, but he will never go back. How lonely, but way cool.

Don't ask where that image came from; i totally just ate at Pink Berry and I think that is tainted my philosophy beyond recognition. I love you all.  ¶ 10:18 PM