weird & wonderful
March 7, 2024
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It’s crazy how fluid our fun and funny is.
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A drawn heart on hand. Another one elsewhere.
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There's actually no code for life, if there were we’d all be doing the same thing.
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It’s a phrase that everyone uses here. It’s integral to their culture. I think it's also key to we. To us.
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Maybe it's our episode or mini series within the bigger scope.
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I didn't think I was going to write in these on the plane as I'm fucking wrecked with exhaustion. I was hoping to sleep. But I'm so uncomfortable, I can't. I'm exposed to way more people — it's shocking to my system, that I can't even get space to feel secure.
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Does "cure” come from "secure"? I'd like to look into the etymology of that. Like if one feels secure, are they cured of feeling unsafe?
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He said he would secure me. I told him that’s hot.
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This is real telenovela shit. There is no script for it. No code. No pasa nada.
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The script gets written as it gets. I purposely ended that sentence there. For play. For wonder. For tease. For truth to unfold.
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We can't do it like we would a pair of jeans out of a suitcase or set of drawers. Those unfold easy. 1-2-3 and they're out. Flattened. Denim. That's their truth. Their true blue.
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This fucking fun of a story called life and love and love life because why wouldn’t you? You're in it, may as well enjoy the joy out of it.
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It’s not necessarily the things said although it is and really cool to think about how whatever either said, the other listened, made space for sharing stories and hopped in like a double dutch jump roper when timing opened up for that joke, punch line — no pasa nada — or connecting thread to flow the fun forward.
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In the past, I might have let this eat at me.
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This is the juicy #RatedM shit I wouldn’t publicize.
However, if this ever becomes a memoir, then that raunch is going in. It’s part of my identity, why would I edit that out? -
I'm a crowd pleaser, not a people one. Although, it’s a shit town of people that make up a crowd.
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I digress.
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That black strap. A little thing in a big city. A basic item dropped. But what exactly was this item?
Too short for an old person’s hold-em-up-so-they-don’t-fall-down-and-you-not-break-your-back-when-they-do strap. Maybe it was part of one of those weird swaddle things for babies. It definitely was not a strap on.
It just was something. So mundane. Something dropped. Something forgotten. Lost. Misplaced by someone. I'm sure they're not missing it, whatever it was.
It was nothing, but something, too. Is it a symbol for us? That whatever this something is, is nothing to worry about where it is — what its purpose is, it just is? It came out of nowhere and is still there.
On a step in front of someplace somewhere we had a good chat and laughed about it.
Something so simple, yet full of purpose if only known by the user, the dropper-offer.
It could be trash. It is treasure. Because it's a weird and rando thing that simply came into the script, unscripted to give us something to script. -
Is my brain okay? My heart sure is knowing he likes what’s in it. The weird and wonderful.