I like to travel, big deal, wanna fight about it?
I've found myself a cozy corner with a window directly facing me, giving me apt opportunity to "people watch". A college student next to me, waiting for his beverage, just sang aloud, "It's going down like the Catalina Wine Mixer," and immediately left. Douche-bag.
I'm just playing; he was probably a relatively nice individual, but my God looks can be deceiving.
A really uppity jazz song is...filling the air right now, among the chatter of college kids and a few professors, I'm assuming professors.
College kids think they know everything, huh.
"Just talk about life, talk about your life, Zach; that's what the people want to hear."
A masked man rescues a woman in distress from being had by two bad cops.
Masked Man: "Are you alright my dear?" he says, extending a chivalrous hand downward to assist her up from the cobble-stone back alley way.
Woman: "Who are you?"
Masked Man: "Who is a function of what. And what I am is a man in a mask. I'm not remarking on your ability of observation, of course, I'm merely remarking on the paradox of asking a masked man who he is."
Woman: "Oh, right."
Speaking of women, one woman just rode by on a bicycle wearing a very large sun hat. Because of this I've made an observation on my generation: Had she been a young woman, I mean, had she been a little girl, the very large hat would have been cute, and the bike - adorable; perhaps she retained the idea from her mother or her grandmother or her great-grandmother and so forth. Likewise, had she been an older woman, which she was, one cannot help to think "more power to her," or her, rather, give off an original aura or "ism" about her - a care-free, vitality enthralled, fun-loving, original woman.
But, had the woman been of age, by "Y-generation's" standards, my generation, she'd look like a trend-follower. The kind of type-cast, orthodox, poster child stores such as Urban Outfitters and American Apparel try to "poon" over.
(Before I continue, "poon" is a word my friends and I use to describe the type of people who conventionally adhere to what such stores convince these people to look like, turning them into walking-bilboard, douche-beggery "poons". Yeah?)
That being said, I find it very hard to be original, if set next to these standards. And, in turn, making those original individuals seem that much more original. And I don't mean deviant either, though by any sociologist's educated, professional viewpoint, anything straying from the norm is considered deviant, whether bad or not.
I just mean, as simply as I can, of their own person, or character. The kind that, if one were looking at would say, "S/He would."
I suppose this is how I've managed to... (the same old lady just rode by on her bicycle, the one with the very large sun hat - it is 11:50AM) ...managed to kill an hour or so by merely observing my surroundings. Speaking of observing my surroundings, the song "Sea Legs" by The Shins just came on in StarGay (that's what I call StarBucks, that or GayBucks, either one is mildly humorous to the individual). "Sea Legs" is my favorite song by The Shins. Fun fact.
I have accumulated a large group of youngsters around me - 11:53AM; by youngsters I mean kids my age. Granted, I address my parents as "Kids". I am uncomfortable.
I recently... (that is a very busty woman - 11:58AM) ...recently witnessed just how sheltered some people really are, and not prude sheltered, I mean life sheltered. Some people have never had to do anything, anything, themselves and thus have not been very perceptive to their surroundings. It's a bad form of tunnel-vision, these people have. Even those kinds of book-smart people that have absolutely zero common sense. Those people who have no idea how real life works. Those people make me feel really smart.
(I just saw an original person - 12:04PM)
-Intermission-
I took a walk around the "city". It is 1:50PM.
Avarice is my only vice. I want things, what can I say?
Everyone has a vice. Some of those vices are really bad. And some of those vices act as chicken soup for the soul sometimes. After thinking it over, I have come to the conclusion that I have a healthy vice half of the time - in the sense that, my vice plays as a goal getter. What I should be weary of is once I've obtained my vice, not to have avarice then.
I just realized what Charleston, South Carolina needs. (1:59PM) Culture. There's no atmosphere here. Well, okay, there's atmosphere, but it's more of a... mature high-school-ish atmosphere - meaning, and I'm guessing, that people sort of mind their own fucking business. Pardon. As much as I dislike Jacksonville, where I live - the largest city in the U.S., it has culture. A lot of drunk people, but culture. I just realized something else...
I could steal the shit out of this city. There is literally nothing going on on these street corners. I could move up with a few artist-friends and we could con this city blind.
(2:09PM - a group of three just walked by whom looked like American Apparel and Urban Outfitters just had a lovechild.)
I'm mean... I should stop for now. Maybe I'm restless.
I'm going to go steal something.
-Intermission-
(3:30PM - I just stole something.Consider yourself posted, Blog.)
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