**Wrote this a month ago and forgot to post it… The orgasms are still just as strong though.**
Have you ever gotten a shock of inspiration so strong, so brilliant and beautiful that it sends your chest pounding, fills you with a fast, rosy heat, sends your brain racing with bizarre brilliant thoughts?
It fills you with such passion, such adrenaline, you lose your appetite, forget the time, halt the work you’re doing. You want nothing more than to crawl up into this inspiration, to curl up and then unravel; and flourish within it, as a part of it.
You want nothing more than to create and create, and do nothing else but create wonderful things. You don’t even know what. You need — NEED — to move your hands, to work them, to roll your fingers around something tangible when it’s in your grasp, powered by your touch.
You need to create, to ignite the world with something of yourself and this wonderful inspiration that is now a part of you.
Yeah. That’s the rush of emotion and energy that elf-shot itself through me when I watched the music video for “Flesh Without Blood” by Grimes.
Or, as I originally described it, artsy-fartsy orgasms of THE MOST INTENSE kind. Seriously. Like a volcanic eruption of orgasms all over my living room. I officially deem Grimes the Hitachi Magic Wand of pop music.
Long time, no see, my lovely blog. The spans of time I spend away from you seem to stretch longer and longer with each post, don’t they. Alas, life has been busy, if not totally crazy, and leisure time is sparse, and there’s way too many things to explore and life to live for me to spend it online. Unless I’m browsing Amazon for books, of course…
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I like to think I keep things pretty real on this little blog of mine. I may not keep things lively (almost two months since my last post…), but I definitely keep it real. Quality over quantity, right?
Thus I should probably go ahead and make the confession, (if you haven’t figured it out already) I kind of completely hate the internet. Not a fan. People waste way too much precious time and energy on it, especially when most of its content is repetitive and useless, built upon attention-hungry individuals and their stupid shit.
(*Remember, this is the majority of the Internet. Doesn’t mean there aren’t also plenty of delightful beacons of light out there amidst all the shit.)
Seriously though, I am like the closest thing to being a Luddite that you can get without completely despising technology.
Thus, I hope you’ll excuse my lack of digital involvement from time to time. Just too busy reading and adventuring, ya know?
However I recently read a nice little book that made me reevaluate my strenuous relationship with cyberspace, and recognize the — dare I say it — beauty it can bring into millions of people’s lives.
or, The Surprisingly Awesome Ramblings of Old Men
I never knew, or would have ever dreamed to think, that such drama could be caused by two rambling, decrepit old men. We’re talking love triangles, best friend betrayals, war, attempted murder, even some weird sexual attraction between the main character and his maid. Embers by Hungarian author Sandor Marai could well be fit for a melodramatic daytime soap opera or perhaps even a new MTV hit show. Picture it: It’s The Jersey Shore, only in the Carpathian Mountains!
Unfortunately the two characters of interest, Henrik and Konrad, are disparagingly old (they repeatedly state how they’re practically about to fall over into their graves at any moment), not quite as appealing to female audiences as the metro sexual hunkalicious male soap stars, nor as pumped as the beefcake, muscle-flaunting bros of The Jersey Shore. Thankfully (Serious. Thank GOD!) Embers is actually very well-written, and chock-full of philosophical and intellectually stimulating goodness.
This post is a little overdue. But alas, so is everything in my life. I do have my priorities straight, though, and the annual Kentucky Human Society Waggin’ Trail is by all means near the top of that list. The walk in support of the wonderful no-kill shelter was held on May 16 at the Waterfront Park here in Louisville. And even the clouds and rain and river mist couldn’t keep the hundreds of supporters and their puppy dogs (and even a ferret) from attending the event.
In the midst of work and internships and the daily hassles of life, not to mention the good ol’ Kentucky heat dripping with humidity that comes with the season of summer, it’s nice to know that there is always Thursday.
I find myself venturing all the way to downtown Louisville for the simple and pleasant joy of Gelato Cart Thursday at Proof on Main throughout the entire summer. It’s something small to look forward to, and I still get giddy with anticipation each week to find out the three select flavors concocted for the day.