Whenever I think or say something cool, I repeat it over and over in my head (if I'm in public) or out loud (if I'm alone) so I can appreciate the full effect and nuance of how cool it is. It can be anything from a silly word to a whole scene in the imaginary movie of my life where I read for all of the characters.
If I go from being inside to the outside and it's very sunny, I will sneeze. Without fail. I can even force a sneeze by staring intently into bright lamps and sometimes, just sometimes I do that too.
When I'm stressed out I do what I call "the rinse" and sort of...make the motions of washing my hands. I do it on my lap or behind my back so no one questions it but I really scrub those suckers.
I re-organize sugar packets by color.
I'll do almost anything not to cry in front of other people. I'll stare off into the distance, I'll make an excuse and go into the next room, I'll put sunglasses on in the middle of the night- as long as nobody sees tears actually coming out of my eyes.
edit :// and if you have seen me cry it probably means I love you.
We all have one. They're a pretty big deal. A heart is an organ, a concept, a metaphor, and a target all rolled up into one bloody red symbol. We rally around a chunk of meat in our chests. What's up with that?
What does it means to go home? What makes a place a home? Can your home be a person or does it have to be a place? We have a home base, a home planet, we can hit a home run and also create deadly homing devices.
It heals all wounds but will kill us if we're lucky. It tells us what to do and when to do it. How did past civilizations cut up their days and years? What does our way of telling time say about what we value? We're just in time, we're out of time, it happens time and time again, why can't we travel through time...
I am not yet moved to write poetry about you
so don't go thinking you'll read this and find a reference to the way you pass your knife through fruit
and give me the bigger half
This really doesnt even involve you because you just got here and I've been hanging out for a while
the softness of your white shoulders and the movement of your mass through the too-small universe of your apartment
is what I think about at night
It's nothing personal.
I'll write you when I'm ready and until then I'll settle my score
with the backside...
Hunter Benson:Write a song that is a history lesson.
I am currently experiencing difficulty with my recording equipment and cannot record the music for this song. It goes along, oddly enough, to a humunkulus track that I will resource for a better audio/visualization experience. The scholarship involved is derived from the assertion of Princeton Prof. Gananath Obeyesekere, in his book The Apotheosis of Captain Cook: European Mythmaking in the Pacific, that Captain Cook was NOT (as is popularly believed) revered as a god by the native...