Sometimes I know that it's never enough. Survival is fine--
satisfaction is rough.

that's an old high school quote, an old-school Melissa Etheridge quote. occured to me while I was reading Claire's diary. I was working out last night--

yeah, okay, quick recap. I live in an old brick building with my old high school quotes, White and Chad, in Knoxville-- I work as a jack-of-all-trades for a company which sells jewelry and gemstones over the television-- I wear a pendant of Josh Chasez's face-- I've made peace with my parents-- made peace with Devon-- made peace with Lise-- made peace with Jesus-- made peace in general-- and now I work out at this club, for anger management issues. Lise rhymes with peace.

I don't know if I mentioned this, but Lara the Catholic can put her whole fist in her mouth.

so, I was working out last night, staring at the treadmill as it recycled itself over and over under my feet, which kept moving, and I thought that pain is only the opposite of comfort, and once you define something by its opposite, you have extinguished it. I think that this is possibly true, if disinteresting.

also, I thought that I would like to write a story about Jubilee working out. 'cause, dude. Sexy.

I figured, the important things, the concrete things, are those things which have no definable opposite, and thusly cannot be extinguished. I mean-- there is no opposite of time. Try to imagine the opposite of time. You're human; you can't do it. what is the opposite of mother? Not father; not stranger. There is no opposite of mother. There is no opposite of watermelon.

all of these things that you can say, "happy, sad; dark, light; love, hate." It's all bullshit. It's insubstantial, and within a matter of hours it'll just be its opposite. It doesn't help you through your day anyway. You're just using it to distract yourself from the fact that you have to put one foot in front of the other, because you live in the West, where we define our worth by how much we suffer how silently.

also, I was working out and I saw the Gone video. I like that thing that Justin does when he's got his palms pressed to the wall and his stomach contracts. it's very writhe-y. I like the see the guys in various stances of play-acted grief. Makes them seem more well-rounded. I doubt Josh ever makes faces like that in real life.

***

I figured out my contention with the Taoist.
I like
neon lights
and broken tractors.
and Jack Kerouac and pop music
and anything which celebrates the
casual plodding trampling footsteps
of humans
destruction creation mass-marketing craziness
stomping love pain rainforests
Praised be man, he is existing in milk.
Praised be
Claire.
Praised be Devon and Dustin, praised be little Aisling, little gay Jeff. Praised be Moo and Laura, praised be Lyndsay. Praised be Ely, Snaggly-Toothed Kelly, Moderately-Informed Judy, DMX. Praised be Dusty, Daisy, Pebblin. Praised be Nathaniel. Praised be Hooters. Praised be Lise, Dex, Hex, Choo-Choo. Praised be Lance Bass. Praised be Ms. Wendlken and Mao Tse Tung and Colonel Sanders.Praised be my parents and their parents and your parents.

Praised be you and you. fuckin praise each other.

--A