XXIV. Round Two...

Yesterday I inaugurated a little writing exercise to help the creative juices flow. It looks like another round of this drill is in order.

Tonight's words: 'grape', 'paper', and 'chain'.

'Grape' brings me back to the fourth and fifth grades. There was this one kid, Christopher S., who would bring grapes for lunch every single day. He also seemed to be snacking on them every other chance he got.

'Paper' is what I often find myself buried under. One of my unfortunate habits involves grabbing every newspaper, magazine, flyer, newsletter, or other printed item, bringing it home, and then putting it down and forgetting about it entirely. I need to stop being such a pack rat, lest one day someone need excavate my living quarters to exhume my festering carcass.

'Chain' reminds me of both the the eagle medallion given to me by my grandfather so many years ago (and which I still have), and the loss of my bicycle several years ago, to theft at the central library in Jamaica, Queens. I had locked it to a traffic signpost right outside the main entrance, and gone inside to do some research. I emerged about two hours later to find it missing. That incident puts me in the ignominious group of folks who have had more than one bike stolen.

XXIII. "These words remind me of..."

The following is a quick exercise, intended to spur on my creative impulses and to get me to write more.

In it, I quickly pick the first three words that come to mind, and just as quickly writing down what these words make me think of.
So, this time the words are 'spell', 'heat', and 'wrinkle'.
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Ok, so 'spell' bears a noted significance for me...I participated in many spelling bees in my school years, winning my first at age eight. I actually represented my middle school in the annual city-wide tournament for all three years, but was never able to win the whole thing.
The word also invokes a slight ironic twinge within me at the moment, since just mere moments ago while typing this entry I misspelled the word 'exercise' at least three times. My, how things change...

As for 'heat'...1999 in New York City. The hottest goddamn summer I can remember. I don't have any charts or anything of the like, but I wouldn't be surprised if the temperature reached at least 90F each day that summer, and the humidity exceeded 95 percent.

Finally, 'wrinkle'...I hardly (if ever) iron my clothes before leaving the house. However, It is a rare occasion that I find an pernicious crease in my outfit while I am out. Perhaps they are wrinkled when I put them on, but ease out by the time I examine my clothes outside.
Or, maybe it's just that my eyes simply can't pick up wrinkles, and the people I pass in public are secretly having a laugh at my expense.

XXII. Down

Lately I'm finding my motivation low, and my anxiety and depression high. Often the know-it-alls say that you just have to get out there and make do, but sometimes it sounds like "start climbing out of that five-mile trench."

XXI. And Now, in Commemoration of...

AMERICA

1776 - ?

XX. In Before July...

Teleology is the philosophical discipline that pertains to purpose. When I created this journal last December, it was supposedly to give me a place to record my many musings.

Well, it's over six months into the project (including the past seven weeks with nothing whatsoever) and my page sits here, nearly bereft of content.

I posit that as of now, Gotham in Exile is not fulfilling its intended purpose. I think I will have to take a radically different approach to this journal, or it will disappear into a vacuum of disuse and indifference.

On another note, the world lost one of its foremost contemporary social commentators and philosophers last week:

the great George Carlin.

So, in honor of his trip to the Big Electron, I propose a seven-gun salute:

SHIT!!
PISS!!
FUCK!!
CUNT!!
COCKSUCKER!!
MOTHERFUCKER!!
TITS!!