the other left

I had a thought recent enough that I haven't forgotten it yet. It came to be while I was rummaging around at the wonderful hour of 3 - morning - making a peanut butter sandwich (my usual fine dining at that time when my stomach gets needy). Turns out I am fascinated by the concept of perspective.

Look at an object, like a sandwich. Nothing exciting, but you can look at it from different angles and it changes slightly. Same deal with most things, except maybe a perfect circle? Whatever. Point is you can see it from a different viewpoint and it can be different.

That's not truly amazing in any way, but it is when you apply the same rules to ideas and thoughts - even words! Most of the time we're all too caught up in one perspective to see any other angle and that's why arguments exist. To win an argument you need to convince the opposition that your perspective and views are the winning deal. Sometimes this requires clever manipulation, such as making it seem as if you are agreeing. Beating them down with a single-minded view doesn't work. This is where stubbornness fails.

That's just a small example, perhaps as far as ideas are concerned. You see an idea from your perspective and if needed argue with that stance. Others agree or disagree, sometimes both without knowing. Then there's someone else who throws in a new idea to argue with and it gets a bit messy.

What about thoughts then? Inner thoughts. Those times when you mull over something and sink deeper into a certain pool of thought. The surface goes over your head and lose the ability to see anything outside of it. It's not until you are given - or come up with your own - a new outlook that it seems like the light shining again. That's the best way to describe that feeling of understanding, or seeing something that pulls you out of the pool: Light. Not just any light; this light has an innate ability to dissipate clouds and generate the warm fuzzies.

Naturally this process can work in the other direction, and it can fluctuate both ways. That is what goes on in my head at least. With all these perspectives and viewpoints it's no wonder why words are read differently. Not necessarily single words, but a large group of them in, say, a novel. Meaning is a matter of view and though some may appear upside-down to you, only the author can rightfully declare the true meaning. Though one who does so clearly forgot why he wrote it in the first place, and should wait until asked for profound understanding of his words.

Even so, some things should be left open to perspective, like a humble cube sitting on a table top.

But that's just my point of view.

- G ζ.

With eyes open, nothing to see
Nothing but what's in front of me
A mirror, broken and worn
Fragmented thoughts in reflection
And solving the puzzle I find
The solution, but no answer
An elaborate search for
A duplicate of me

nobody shaves here anymore

Facial hair is what makes the real difference between a man and a woman. It defines masculinity! Everytime I see a girl I want to walk up to them and say, "Hey! Can you grow hair on your face?!"
Chances are they'll say "Why no you manly man, I cannot for I am just a girl!"

That's right, I can grow hair on my friggin' face. Because I'm a MAN. Shaving is for pussies too. I trust dudes with beards. If I'm at a shop and there's a salesman with hair all over his face like it's a caveman special, I'll choose him. I can look at him and know that he is dedicated. So dedicated that he doesn't even have time to shave. Not like those other clean, fake salesmen.

See, not only does facial hair mean manliness, it also means dedication, genius and creativity. You just know someone with a beard has things on his mind that you could never fathom unless you also had a beard of equal or greater value. Look at the wise old men with their foot-long beards. They know what I'm talking about because they've got it all on their face.

But the non-bearders don't get it. They can't. There's much prejudice against the unshaven man from wives to girlfriends to random people walking around. They assume you're crazy or dirty. The audacity of such a thought!

Once upon a time my car broke down and I had to walk to the nearest shop to purchase credit so my phone could be more useful (already signs of genius thanks to the facial hair I was sporting that morning). I was in an odd mood; tired, disorientated and joyous. I followed my beard's lead and happened upon a lovely old lady running a register. I shocked her with anti-stereotypes and probably made her morning better than the previous customers who apparently pulled the old "I'm a customer and you're not" trick.

I told her about my morning in a very happy, possibly drug-induced manner and we laughed and I went on my way. I thought this was great. I was the edgy homeless guy with genius behind facial hair.

More recently I was shunned. My brother got the "How are you?" and fake smile and I got the silent look. The silent look! Clearly she was confusing me with someone else or she was so overwhelmed with attraction and awe that she shriveled into a shell and could barely speak. One touch and she'd have collapsed in sheer orgasm. Or looked at me silently.

So I shaved. The world is not ready for the genius and looks. It took 2 razors - well, one and a half - to bring the bad boy down but I survived and returned to less manly attributes. Oh, but it'll be back. It always comes back.

You see, you can never destroy genius.

- G ζ.

and now sit back and decide
or enjoy the decision of others
if intentions should collide
then really it's time for another
choose once, and again
my indecisive friend

beer with me

Tonight, or last night and this part of the morning, was one of those nights. You know, where it starts off shaky and you don't expect much to come of it and make plans to call it quits early, then suddenly you find yourself having too much fun and too many free drinks.

Yep, I am drunk now. This will be my first time writing anythign drunk as far as I know and I am not bothering with proofreading, so bear with me... or beer with me as the lovely titel suggests. What a night! I had doubts that I could have a night equal to or better than my brother's 18th but lo' it wasn't such a hard task. A good friend returns from overseas, I meet some strangers and remind old friends that I still live and all of me is about the good times, curls and all.

Listening to some music by Tarkan, which I'm told is just one dude, not a band. I know it's foreign and the lyrics I can't translate, but I have a theory that it doesn't matter with music - as long as you can hear the tone the tune and inflection of the words you can understand the song and enjoy it. You don't have to be able to sing it (if you do, that is still cool; I mean, I'd love to be able to sing random songs not written in English).

I need to go pass out or something. It's difficult to think of anything at this point... I'm past the point of slurring words and making up shit and have moved to the realm of wanting to sleep until the sun demands otherwise.

Peace.

- G

one for those times you feel lonely
one for those merry good folks
one for every other bloke
and the rest for yourself;
because that's the way it should be