I am not interested in pop culture; it feels like many people follow it without thinking. It’s a comfortable space, but I find it dull and uninteresting. Pop culture seems to dominate businesses and publishers, as many feel pressured to conform. I appreciated giving up our multiple Times Warner channels, and I no longer read the L.A. Times. Now, I can choose what to include in my own culture.
I have this eccentric lady that follows me around. She whispers,
“That is betrayal, go for the balls. Seek revenge!!”
She has real character. She sees through the lies and has extreme foresight. If I don’t respond to her threats she pokes me in the belly. Then I get that confused chaos feeling right in the pit of my stomach. I spend a lot of time ignoring her.
I still feel her presence and if I shun her too long nasty cartoons manifest and manifestos of tyranny focus on the tip of fuck you on her fingers. She holds many concepts and catches them all in an epiphany, and with concentration can cut to the chase.
Her extreme pity brings waves of compassion, sorrow, and despair as if dusk were a disease to altruistically pawn away.
Enthusiastic and playful, with pints of beer, she may dance into oblivion. She is my daimon. If you see her in a dark alley, please don’t confront her.
Just observe her as a Praying Mantis on a flower; don’t touch her, as she may turn her head towards you.
