Wednesday, May 21, 2008
It was like 'nam. Or whatever my preconceived notion of what it was like back then during the Vietnam war. I stood on the roof of my house in the neighborhood of predominately Portuguese families and enjoyed several fireworks shows. I counted 8 surrounding 304 Brock Ave and at one point the thought entered my head that if I had a gun I would be able to shoot it off without anyone really noticing.
Posted by lexo at 6:07 AM
Monday, May 19, 2008
All roads eventually shrink. Along with the sky scrapers, the facades posing as offices, the metal boxes where people consume, the tumor-like growths where people live like proper human beings, and the ever evaporating greenery that seems to only really get in the way. They all reduce in size, keeping pace with our individual biological clocks. The animals that inhabit these backward landscapes have a nasty habit for forming circles around these structures thereby reducing its' scale to the point that you can literally throw your own feces at someone standing in the complete opposite without lifting a virtual finger. Yet this phenomenon is not perpetuated by acts of violence or any other such malicious intentions. It's fuel by, rather, love or any other hippie term you want to attach to it. The animal's circle, in other words, remains rather small if he all he does is throw his shit around.
Posted by lexo at 1:42 PM