I'm not dead. I'm just off tying up the loose ends of my old job. Busy, busy, busy. Here's something old, to replace a three-day-old recap post. I'll be back as soon as possible.
Streaming
Someone said everything is relative. Someone else said not everything is relative. At some level this must mean that the relativity of all things is relative as well. There are so many ways to look at things. What is the perfect body? What is the perfect female face? What is the perfect male face? Weeds often flourish in a yard where nothing else will grow. The yard is perfect for weeds, I guess, but not perfect for Saint Augustine grass. In bad fiction, or at least simple fiction, everything has exactly one purpose. There is nothing that has no purpose, and nothing that has more than one purpose. I wonder if a serial killer was ever also a humanitarian, in his other life, in the life where no one can believe it was him that committed those horrible atrocities. If so, I wonder which side of him was real and which was fake? Maybe he was really a humanitarian at heart but became a serial murderer to fit in. Why does a woman get into amazingly fit shape, put on a slinky revealing black dress and long leather boots that grip her legs and come hang out at a Starbucks Coffee? What does she want? To look good? To look sexy? Does she want attention? Does she dread the men that might approach her? Did she just dress that way because it pleases her aesthetically even though she abhors the attention it gains? Maybe it’s just incredibly comfortable. I think I have come to believe that a lot of people are perfect. A lot of things are perfect. If a tree grows tall, puts out branches, produces foliage and fruit, then it is a perfect tree. If a man tries to take care of himself, tries to be good to the other people in his life, tries to take care of his responsibilities, that man is a perfect man. Or maybe I’m redefining perfect. It’s hard to know what is right and what is wrong. It’s easy to know what is right and what is left, but it’s entirely relative.
That's it. Hello, friends.
Later. Love.
