... there for, AM I?

As the human race we leave garbage In the space race we even leave space garbage We leave waste and refuge in the oceans We have littered Mt. Everas with our frozen bodies And we also have cyber waste.... I personally have so much cybe waste.

I want to be exceptional at something.

People who have never met me have asked if I speak the way that I write. I don't, I wish that I did. I do however, think the same way. My inner dialogue is very similar to the way I string words together in writing. When I speak to people that inner monologue is somehow paralyzed of hijacked by meshing in and accepting the ideas and thoughts of others. So I guess it's only in solitary thought that I think the same way I write.

Divinely, I was born into luck, in comfort, and bestowed with an extreme love. It could have been any other way, in any other place. So when I am feeling the minor pricks and thorns of life that serve to annoy and trouble us all, I must remind myself that off all the places on earth I could be, and all the conditions I could have faced, I have been blessed by chance to be rich in all the things that matter most.

One thing that fascinates me about contemporary art (or really, any art), is that the artist is a person who takes themes, philosophies and ideas and get to produce some physical manifestation of them for others to view. It's funny because I am very drawn in by the ideas and enjoy pondering them when encountered by the embedded meanings within art objects. However, I seldom look at a work and immediately perceive/understand what the work is meant to be "about". I generally see myself as a instinctual viewer, gaining pleasure from the art simply by how a work effects me as I take it in. But still, I like that I can also read or learn about the intent of a work, and it fascinates me that artist get to create in the way that they do. I envy that.

All the RED queens

I was never relevant in this world, and now I have missed my chance to be relevant altogether.

After the cyber "cat pollution" the internet is secondly littered with a vast numbers of pleasing platitudes featuring gentle and kind sentiments. If only real life could be 1% as gentle or kind as we appear to be in our virtual world.

In bed at night I recite the names of people I care about or I think of a few people intensely for a few moments until I fall asleep.

Nature is indifferent to suffering, but humanity is cruel.