wrandomness and divinity Always random, always approaching divine... wArchives: -- HOME --

wSeptember 16, 2001 I am such a spoiled fuck. posted by Brian J. McGuirk at 11:43 PM wSeptember 07, 2001 God that sucked. If only I could write. posted by Brian J. McGuirk at 3:01 PM wSeptember 01, 2001 Belated Response to Game #4 I get into these modes every once in a while, where all that exists is what I focus on. Literally, the periphery of my vision will fall away, and all that exists for me in that moment is whatever I've focused on. It's an odd feeling. Most of the time it's brought on by my own normal, deep-seated mysticism and concentration, but this morning, at this ungodly hour, it's brought on by alcohol. My focal point is the rotating, steaming surface of a scalding cup of coffee. The bubbles form galaxies and spin, they dance and collide and shatter and come back together in this, my cosmic cup of coffee. On so many scales, worlds are colliding and shattering. Thus the Mardi-Gras-like party last night. It wasn't a party. It was a binge. College kids call it a party because it's fun, it's primal and communal. For me it's primal, yea, but in a subduing my own rage sort of way. Last night wasn't a party, it was an escape, which is really sort of pathetic. Escape from what? I'm fucking rich, I'm fucking sexy, I drive a fucking cool car, have never been starving in my life, except when I wanted to be. I guarantee you that there are people in Africa somewhere who have not eaten in weeks, have very recently lost close family members to a slow, dignity stealing disease or hunger or both. I'm a spoiled fuck. The only thing I should escape from is my own selfishness and arrogance... A three year old just broke my zen moment there. The rest of the world has reclaimed my vision. Cute kid. I suppose at three years old, you should run as much and as often as physically possible. Oh, to be three again. A three year old is joy defined. A three year old lives life joyously, and gives joy universally. A three year old is an undeniable good thing, even those annoying little fucks at Italian resteraunts that spill and throw their pasta and won't stop crying. Even then, you have to give them credit for being what they are, and even when they are terrible (which continues past the terrible twos), they are joyous because they are young and naive and untouched and beautiful, despite being covered, head to foot, in some oily gourmet italian sauce and standing on their toes in a kiddie chair just to make their precarious displeasure known. Even then. Even then... I look back to the coffee. The galaxy is slowing down, becoming more stable. It still crashes into the sides every once in a while, but it's orbit is centered. So things can return. Things can come back down from heights, galaxies can recover after having collided and exploded and changed. Life can go on. I guess that's the only constant, really. Time and life will go on, whether you join them or not. Every second is a new interesection, every second history is being dictated. Every second holds literally billions of possibilities. Escape. Maybe I should escape. Not down, not out, with drink and pain, but up and through. Comon, God. Pour in some sugar and stir my fucking coffee. See if I fucking care. posted by Brian J. McGuirk at 3:36 AM w I need a jack daniels and a cigar. posted by Brian J. McGuirk at 3:05 AM w You ever known something so true, seen something so blinding and righteous that those around you mistake it for a camera flash or a hand grenade? Ever known someone so well, seen something coming for so long, and prayed, hope against velocity, that it wouldn't happen? Ever loved someone tell it hurt? Ever done ridiculous things to forget one person, all of which made you remember them the more? Ever have light filter through a cloud and wonder what color someone's eyes are, far away, as a result? Ever look at the moon, or listen to a light rainfall, and be instantly linked to another soul, despite distance, despite barriers, manmade, psychological and developmental, it doesn't matter? Have you ever sat still on the phone and had the wind knocked out of you? Have you ever wished for rain, just to match your mood? posted by Brian J. McGuirk at 2:57 AM w Is it getting better, or do you feel the same? Will it make it easier on you, now you got someone to blame? You say one love, one life, when it's one need in the night One love, we get to share it Leaves you baby if you don't care for it Did I disappoint you or leave a bad taste in your mouth? You act like you never had love, and you want me to go without Well it's too late tonight to drag the past out into the light We're one, but we're not the same We get to carry each other, carry each other... one Have you come here for forgiveness Have you come to raise the dead Have you come here to play Jesus to the lepers in your head Did I ask too much, more than a lot You gave me nothing, now it's all I got We're one, but we're not the same Well, we hurt each other, then we do it again You say love is a temple, love a higher law Love is a temple, love the higher law You ask me to enter, but then you make me crawl And I can't be holding on to what you got, when all you got is hurt One love, one blood, one life, you got to do what you should One life with each other: sisters, brothers One life, but we're not the same We get to carry each other, carry each other One, one... -U2 posted by Brian J. McGuirk at 2:47 AM