Local anesthetic

It's remarkable.
Turning back the clock while you are still physically aging.
Lost the charm, but regaining the reputation.

Defying rationale, and devoid of attachment. I was like that too. I have changed more than my surroundings have, and I barely recognize my hometown when I pull in.


It's happening in me. I am scared, but letting it happen. I look at those years, and those faces and it is like a work of fiction I have longed to read. I have started documenting it, but how can you record pastiche?

My paradigm is one that left some scars, but they have all formed a trail that I would be willing to show. I would uncover it. I would open my chest like a book and let you go through it, asking questions as you go.

I don't need a support. I want a person who will fly (and fall out of the sky) with me.

But will it hurt

if you see it happen?

Pretty Girls

She tells me she will die young.

I tell her all beautiful women have the same premonition. Brevity is the stamp of beauty, sealing it in the mouths of men.


All the men who see her want to live their wrecked lives forever.

Scramble for Africa.

Cartier, Thomson, and Columbus are all iconified for being founding fathers; however, the idea of discovery has always been problematic for me.

If discovery means finding, why is it that they get the credit for places that have already been inhabitated, or rather, civilized. Now, there's the discrepency. What do we define as civilized? The word's multiple meanings gives way to the discussion I would like to have. Is one only civilized if they are white, Christian men? History would say yes. Reason would say no.

But we credit the wrong people for nearly every discovery. Even if we become educated later, there is still a Columbus day...not a Native American Day (note: I realize that the politically correct term is Aboriginal...at least the last time I was told).

But why is something only discovered once the white man has found it?

Even applying it to modern society, things are only discovered by popular culture once they are appropriated by white, rich men. Whether it be music, fashion, food, or other aspects of culture, we give little accredation to origin, and instead give praise to a diluted, less authentic version of the real. It is the simulacrum. A representation or version of something real. It is an illusion that we maintain.


In a way, I am jealous of men like David Livingstone. Celebrated and cherished for convincing the world that his way of living was the only of living, discovering something that already existed, and having no self-actualization up until death.