Sound; Nothing, quiet, the sound of my cats waiting for me to gett he hell out of bed and feed them.

Sight; I've been eyeing my hair in the mirror, trying to decide if I should cut it in a framing shag cut. It has no style at the moment, it just hangs there, and I don't feel purty.

Taste; A way-homestyle Einstein Bros bagel and Caribou Coffee, Sunday morning tradition made into a day off tradition too. Throw a cherry coke in there and you have the breakfast of champions.

Touch; I detest waking up alone.

Smell; I wish I could hire someone to come in and change my cat litter for me.

January 17, 2000
Babble babble babble.

I was trampling my way through the construction that the city has started on one of the busiest streets when I heard on the radio that Louis Farrakhan met with a few leaders of Jewish Organizations during Christmas, this happening after his near death experience. Maybe we should put all people that broadcast hate in that situation and see how it comes out. Crack 'em on the back of the head and wait for them to come around...and if they don't...well, you win some and you lose some.

After this thought, something smacked me in the face.

Tolerance is only the road to new intolerance. Even those that say they hate no one, and believe in the right of human beings to do anything they damn well please, no matter from which sex, race, or creed they hail...they are just as intolerant as a skinhead marching through Washington screaming "White Power."

I am a bigot. Why?

Because I hate those that hate.

This bothers me that I contribute to this cycle. I'm not sure what to do about it, so I sit and mull over my options. While doing so, I realize that this is a part of me that I can do nothing about unless confronted with a tangible opportunity. Rolling it over in my mind and beating myself up for it accomplishes nothing. Not every part of me is good, I knew that a long time ago. But when I find a new part that's black and smoldering, when I thought I had come to terms with all of my evils...well, it's just unsettling. It's time to let that go.

I feel restless. First I thought I wanted a new rug, then I though I wanted new makeup, then I thought I wanted a pedicure...then it was jewelry. I told myself that if not one thing I was thinking of in particular popped out as the thing that was needed...then none of it was. I got my coffee and went home. Even though I had enough cash for any of these material things in my hip pocket. Now changing my hair is gnawing at the corners of my mind since I've been home.

I've been growing it since June 13 of 1998. I would be pretty stupid to cut it now, wouldn't I. Though it seems that's my M.O.

Yesterday | Main | Tomorrow

Design, graphics and writing (c)1999/2000 Harvest Designs unless otherwise stated.