[07 Jul 2005|02:53pm] Anglo-Arab Thoughts femme hair at max length, before... butch cut! On London, Late Add: i am english, and i am arab too. what i write is not to be taken as unsympathetic: i have relatives in london; i feel horrible. but it bothers me greatly that there is such a disparity in the attention paid to the victims of violence in the world. millions, lit. millions of innocent people have been killed by our actions in other parts of the world - and it is all but impossible to generate a sense of outrage. yet, in camera-rich environments filled with relatively affluent people compassion flows out in a tsunami-like volume. and media outlets - large and small - are selling ad space, making a profit on the show. it sickens me. where is the real dialogue? where is the understanding? where is the willingness to embrace our credo "all men are created equal..." what happened to people like my grandparents? if they were able to bridge the gap during the First World War, why can't we do it now? i hate everyone who is making a production of this event, and using it to further an agenda: for power, for greed, for fame. when are we - me too, all of us - going to get to the human element in this conflict? the "it's us or them, their children or our children" bullshit is on the radio, tv, and net already. it's too much. please, slow down. think. feel. be careful with life, everywhere... July 06, 2005 Haircut: after two years with long hair, i took the plunge. too many hours outside in the heat - running and riding - pushed me over the top. i miss my hair! too much estrogen in the soy and flax, maybe. Soymilk: i had a two hour trip in rush-hour traffic to sit through; i was hungry and thirsty. i decided to "be good" and get something healthy and cheap at a market, instead of eating dinner someplace while waiting for the congestion to clear. i settled on the purchase of a gallon of cocoa soy milk. tasty. too tasty. i drank, and drank, as i sat, and sat. and by the time i had gotten home, the soy milk was gone. i did not feel good. it is like i have had one too many bottles of beer - without the pleasant numbing of my head. Moving: chicago is killing me. in fact, i am already dead, and chicago is killing my un-dead corpse a second time. i know that traffic, pollution and crime are not unique to my region. i have been told that there isn't a "someplace else" left to run to. i want to see for myself. i am seriously, seriously tired of dealing with assholes on the street, in the stores, etc. it was, oh, about 1995, i think, when "the public" changed. after driving the taxi, working in the jail, doing 911, blahblahblah, i am burned out on people - especially these people, here, in chicago. School, Work, Family, i.e., Why I Am Here: the first comments on the thesis draft have been returned to me. i am thankful for the comments. but i have, quite plainly, lost all respect for the system. i do not know why i should play the game, anymore. and i honestly cannot say what i hope to achieve, anymore. most of what is published amounts to an intellectual circle-jerk. why keep pushing myself, when i know that mediocrity has been acceptable in other cases? as much as anything, i want stuff done, finished, cleaned-up, put away. ptsd/ocd in action? hmmm. The Deal: is...i want out. i don't want to be a part of this USA, this global economy, this academy, this media...any of this. i wake, and i am sickened at the thought of the greed and violence outside my door, and across the distant sea - under our banner yet waving. i am still living a life in opposition to "something," as opposed to for "something," i think. how could it be otherwise? i find myself fighting to keep alive little bits of the old life: the ways of thinking and living, the plants, the animals...it makes me sad, as much as it gives me purpose. This is why God gave me Morrissey. And all his children said amen. 18 comments|post comment

navigation [ viewing | July 7th, 2005 ] [ go | previous day|next day ]