(no subject)
Jan. 8th, 2003 09:44 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
scottobearHappy Birthday Elvis!
Online collection of '60s lesbian-themed pulp fiction book jackets. Priceless kitsch titles include: "Killer Dyke," "Twincest," "Bedroom a Go Go," Abnormals Anonymous," "The Torrid Wench," "Wall Street Wantons," and "Art Colony Perverts." -via boing^2
Scrapple. Oh the humanity.
Start clock - 9:24am
Random word - smoke
So many people in my life are / have been smokers. Even if they don't smoke now, it seems that they all carry the craving with them, waiting to be let out again. I've tried it a couple of times, but I don't like it as a delivery system. Tobacco or Pot, both are unpalatable to me when burned and inhaled.
People in my heart who smoke / smoked - Sweetheart. Brother. Father.
My Sweetheart burning Champa, the lights low, our voices soft murmurs as we drift to sleep in one another's arms. I want her to feel security, comfort and love there...I know I'm happiest with her in my life.
My Brother catching himself on fire early in the morning, and the smell of the burnt flesh of a six year old. A real life example of not playing with matches. He suffered many months of changing medicated bandages for treating third degree burns.
My Dad's cherry pipe tobacco. Smelled great raw and unsmoked. The scent still is one of him nearby.
Remembering smoke as an altar boy. the incense waving, as opposed to the tapering line coming off of sticks of Nag Champa, first a perfect lipped line, like a track for hot wheels cars, then after a certain distance, rolls, ripples and waves breaking into a near invisible haze as the tiny burned bits of ash and oil carry a calming scent throughout the room.
Observation aside - I was a boy scout, went to summer camp, and was an altar boy. There was not even a hint of adults in positions of authority hurting kids or anyone else. I had genuinely good experiences at all of them.
I wonder about the monastic life. There's a certain appeal to a day filled with prayer, work, music, writing, study and contemplation. It's something I'd like to have in my past, though...like fresh out of school. A more appealing life to me now would include my beloved and a good does of laughter, as well as many elements of the above, especially the more secular ones.
Stop clock - 9:30am (a little over 5...wasn't counting seconds)
Typos – burned-buned experiences-experiances
Online collection of '60s lesbian-themed pulp fiction book jackets. Priceless kitsch titles include: "Killer Dyke," "Twincest," "Bedroom a Go Go," Abnormals Anonymous," "The Torrid Wench," "Wall Street Wantons," and "Art Colony Perverts." -via boing^2
Scrapple. Oh the humanity.
Start clock - 9:24am
Random word - smoke
So many people in my life are / have been smokers. Even if they don't smoke now, it seems that they all carry the craving with them, waiting to be let out again. I've tried it a couple of times, but I don't like it as a delivery system. Tobacco or Pot, both are unpalatable to me when burned and inhaled.
People in my heart who smoke / smoked - Sweetheart. Brother. Father.
My Sweetheart burning Champa, the lights low, our voices soft murmurs as we drift to sleep in one another's arms. I want her to feel security, comfort and love there...I know I'm happiest with her in my life.
My Brother catching himself on fire early in the morning, and the smell of the burnt flesh of a six year old. A real life example of not playing with matches. He suffered many months of changing medicated bandages for treating third degree burns.
My Dad's cherry pipe tobacco. Smelled great raw and unsmoked. The scent still is one of him nearby.
Remembering smoke as an altar boy. the incense waving, as opposed to the tapering line coming off of sticks of Nag Champa, first a perfect lipped line, like a track for hot wheels cars, then after a certain distance, rolls, ripples and waves breaking into a near invisible haze as the tiny burned bits of ash and oil carry a calming scent throughout the room.
Observation aside - I was a boy scout, went to summer camp, and was an altar boy. There was not even a hint of adults in positions of authority hurting kids or anyone else. I had genuinely good experiences at all of them.
I wonder about the monastic life. There's a certain appeal to a day filled with prayer, work, music, writing, study and contemplation. It's something I'd like to have in my past, though...like fresh out of school. A more appealing life to me now would include my beloved and a good does of laughter, as well as many elements of the above, especially the more secular ones.
Stop clock - 9:30am (a little over 5...wasn't counting seconds)
Typos – burned-buned experiences-experiances
