One
That's great, it starts with an earthquake, birds and snakes,
an aeroplane - Lenny Bruce is not afraid.
Eye of a hurricane, listen to yourself churn,
world serves its own needs, dummy serve your own needs.
An earthquake of sorts a strong swimmer after a subtle glimmer in ones eye. Maybe it ends with an earthquake. But listen to yourself churn.
Wire in a fire, representing seven games, a government for hire and a combat site.
Uh oh, overflow, population, common food, but it'll do.
Save yourself, serve yourself. World serves its own needs, listen to your heart bleed dummy with the rapture and the revered and the right - right.
You vitriolic, patriotic, slam, fight, bright light, feeling pretty psyched.
It's the end of the world as we know it. (It's time I had some time alone)
It's the end of the world as we know it. (It's time I had some time alone)
It's the end of the world as we know it (It's time I had some time alone) and I feel fine.
The refrain in this song gets to me on this day as Seth walks across the fire lane contemplating today’s run and a return to a constant in life. The trail run where rain trickles down the end of his nose and his ankle wobbles but he feels whole again today ready to take on the world almost drunk with endorphins but it has been a struggle to sneak in this oasis day an trail run on a fall day bringing near serenity to an already far too busy day.
Where he did get done practically nothing to his choosing but he certainly got everything done as was his normal day, which included the banal and comforting tasks of cleaning dirty dishes from the sink that had been somehow been left in the sink for he last 526 days since she had moved in. But it is this regular activity that is the glue tying one day to the next. There is finality in doing dishes and taking out the trash. For Seth, everything else is an on going project with no beginning or end.
Seth always enjoyed the post workout buzz, as in earlier years the post workout hum usually consisted of a few cold beers but at this point in his life he was getting to old for that. He had real things to do and real places to get to but as he enjoyed the ride home crossing the Fremont bridge taking in a rare fall sunny day with a hint of a summer past that that faded into obscurity until now.
Seth sat back in his bed and enjoyed the sudden respite from his sudden need for change only to stray in his mind to his constant yearning to seek the change that he had warned himself that he needed. It was an enigmatic struggle for him between the never ending need for seeing and feeling things from a different point of view versus a chronic hankering to just get it right just this once. And Seth wavered in has steadfastness just like he always has.
He surprisingly nodded off into a deep, peaceful sleep and was alerted by a weird wrapping noise that he kind of recognized coming from the front door and he stumbled down the steps he was surprised that daylight was fading and the sun was reflecting at sharp angles indicating that is was later in the day then he had planned. He could not recognize the stranger at the door and thought to him self should I actually answer the door but he was left with no choice as the visitor was right behind the glass window ready to knock again. He opened the door slowly and said "How can I help in you" in as cheerful a voice as he could muster.
There on the front porch was young woman with a cheerful cautious smile and she had a leash in her hand and he followed the line of the leash it was obvious she had his dog on the leash and he worried to him self how exactly his dog of many years had ventured out of the yard he was sure that he had securely locked. He glanced at the gate and nothing seemed amiss and he glanced back at the girl on the porch and she was heading back toward the street as his dog stood on the porch panting and obviously happy.
FOUR
Seth could not see this coming, but he had at some point completely lost self interest in what he used to over indulge in previuosly , that being his job. Everything that once had existed in his job that he found interesting and challenging had been shipped overseas many years ago. He dreaded the never ending polishing of the terd that never seemed to get polished and somebody always ended up unhappier over it. The things he did at work he felt a secretary pointed in the right direction could do and they would be probably like it 100 times more. And tomorrow he had a handful of meetings as well as his official one on one yearly review with his condescending boss. It was already getting dark on this the first day we turn the clocks back in the fall and the sudden earliness of the dark startled him and he realized his weekend was for all practical purposes over. This saddened him a bit but decided he would take Beetle for a walk even though his dog had decided to go on its own little walk just a few minutes earlier.
Walking through his neighborhood made him feel llike he belonged somewhere. He had lived in this house longer than anyplace he lived before and he has grown a certain liking to where he lived. The park in the neighborhood had large pine trees that indicated a park in theRose City
This startled Seth at first, but when the voice had fully entered his cognitive thought process he loved the sound of her voice. It echoed brilliantly on this cool clear fall evening. In the four word he heard ““Rodger get over here”” he had picked up a foreign accent and something else he could not put his finger on.
He looked to his side and saw her in a pretty brilliant light considering how quickly the day had gotten dark. Much to his surprise she walked over to the park bench he had been sitting on with looked like a bag which he presumed contained doggy cleanup in a public part. The idea of a woman carrying a poop bad may be a symbolic metaphor for future failure to many but for Seth at this time in his life it brought this beautiful voice down a level to where he was comfortable and it also served to give him his voice.
That's great, it starts with an earthquake, birds and snakes,
an aeroplane - Lenny Bruce is not afraid.
Eye of a hurricane, listen to yourself churn,
world serves its own needs, dummy serve your own needs.
An earthquake of sorts a strong swimmer after a subtle glimmer in ones eye. Maybe it ends with an earthquake. But listen to yourself churn.
Wire in a fire, representing seven games, a government for hire and a combat site.
Uh oh, overflow, population, common food, but it'll do.
Save yourself, serve yourself. World serves its own needs, listen to your heart bleed dummy with the rapture and the revered and the right - right.
You vitriolic, patriotic, slam, fight, bright light, feeling pretty psyched.
It's the end of the world as we know it. (It's time I had some time alone)
It's the end of the world as we know it. (It's time I had some time alone)
It's the end of the world as we know it (It's time I had some time alone) and I feel fine.
The refrain in this song gets to me on this day as Seth walks across the fire lane contemplating today’s run and a return to a constant in life. The trail run where rain trickles down the end of his nose and his ankle wobbles but he feels whole again today ready to take on the world almost drunk with endorphins but it has been a struggle to sneak in this oasis day an trail run on a fall day bringing near serenity to an already far too busy day.
Where he did get done practically nothing to his choosing but he certainly got everything done as was his normal day, which included the banal and comforting tasks of cleaning dirty dishes from the sink that had been somehow been left in the sink for he last 526 days since she had moved in. But it is this regular activity that is the glue tying one day to the next. There is finality in doing dishes and taking out the trash. For Seth, everything else is an on going project with no beginning or end.
Seth always enjoyed the post workout buzz, as in earlier years the post workout hum usually consisted of a few cold beers but at this point in his life he was getting to old for that. He had real things to do and real places to get to but as he enjoyed the ride home crossing the Fremont bridge taking in a rare fall sunny day with a hint of a summer past that that faded into obscurity until now.
Seth sat back in his bed and enjoyed the sudden respite from his sudden need for change only to stray in his mind to his constant yearning to seek the change that he had warned himself that he needed. It was an enigmatic struggle for him between the never ending need for seeing and feeling things from a different point of view versus a chronic hankering to just get it right just this once. And Seth wavered in has steadfastness just like he always has.
He surprisingly nodded off into a deep, peaceful sleep and was alerted by a weird wrapping noise that he kind of recognized coming from the front door and he stumbled down the steps he was surprised that daylight was fading and the sun was reflecting at sharp angles indicating that is was later in the day then he had planned. He could not recognize the stranger at the door and thought to him self should I actually answer the door but he was left with no choice as the visitor was right behind the glass window ready to knock again. He opened the door slowly and said "How can I help in you" in as cheerful a voice as he could muster.
There on the front porch was young woman with a cheerful cautious smile and she had a leash in her hand and he followed the line of the leash it was obvious she had his dog on the leash and he worried to him self how exactly his dog of many years had ventured out of the yard he was sure that he had securely locked. He glanced at the gate and nothing seemed amiss and he glanced back at the girl on the porch and she was heading back toward the street as his dog stood on the porch panting and obviously happy.
She was walking away from him toward the street and noticed she was wearing a long flowing dress that seemed to summer like for this fall day and wanted to know where she had come from and why. She turned and looked at him and said “I am glad you have your dog back but I need to catch my bus”. Seth kind of in a daze responded with “Hey sorry about that my dog gets out often and I need to figure out how she got out but for now I am happy to have her back”.
She responded through a half smile. “So am I “.
“Well thank you so very much for such a simple kind gesture. Thank you so very much hmmm…what is your name please you never told me”.
“Seth it doesn’t matter” she chuckled as she ran to catch her bus.
TWO
Buses and mass transit systems have a unique way of collecting an odd assortment of strange people and sometimes this was UNIX’s main reason for taking the bus. She had a perfectly acceptable Slug Bug of sorts that could get her from place to place and the gas wasn’t that all expensive but she hated to drive and she somehow loved the chance encounters that happened on the BUS. Well to put it another way she liked chance encounters in general but lately she had become more of a hermit and these chance encounters were just that. She had a little weathered note book where she would write them down mostly for her enjoyment. She would add some crazy little sketches to help remember them and she thought someday she would gather them together and somebody might want to read them.
She sat on the bus headed across town and watched as the late autumn leaves swirled in the gusty winds and she started to make a sketch of Seth and his dog. Her long brown hair curled around her lips as she tried to actually remember what Seth looked like. She certainly remembered the dog as it was a brown, black and white dog with the warmest brown eyes. It was funny to her that she could not remember the dogs name but she could remember Seth’s. (Both names were on the tag) She could also sketch the dog from memory but had very little re collection of Seth at all so when she sketched them both she sketched the dog in detail and drew Seth as a ghostlike character that resembled nothing even human like. The sketch amused her as she pushed her sketch book back into her book bag and as she looked out the slowly fogging windows she realized that she had badly missed her bus stop. She was not alone on the bus with an older lady who had a collection of bottles which it looked like she was taking to the grocery store for the 10 cent refunds. It looked like she had about four dollars worth of bottles in her bag. The lady wore a thread bare coat that was well worn at the sleeves and she seemed a bit agitated but other wise of this world.
“Hi there” she said to the lady “she thought to herself I have to stop just talking to strangers one of these days” but she had already committed to this conversation and continued. “Where are you headed with that fine collection of bottles?” She had already somewhat known the answer but she still pushed forward and repeated the same question. “Where are you headed with that fine collection of bottles”?
--
The lady looked at her with what she perceived as sardonic amusement and simply said “I am looking for a modern day Jesus and a bottle of cheap wine.”
You know what lady on most days I am looking for the exact same thing. I do not care for wine all that much but I think I understand what you are looking for.
The old lady chortled somewhat under her breath “You think you are so smart and understand what a lady of my means is looking for?”
Yes I do. Unix responded, “Some day’s I think I do. Here I got a simple little deal for you. It looks like you have about 40 bottles there and in my world that comes to about four dollars worth. I’ll buy all those bottles from you for 10 dollars and I’ll take care of them for you.”
“That’s mighty nice of you young lady I would be foolish not to take you up on that offer.”
With that Unix shuffled through her purse and found 10 one dollar bills and folded them and put them into the old lady’s surprisingly warm hands. The old lady smiled just a bit and thanked her. “How can I thank you er ummm…I did not catch your name.”.
“It doesn’t matter but if you find your modern day Jesus it would make me very happy” as Unix left the bus about a mile past her destination.
THREE
Unix decided to walk the last 18 blocks back to what she called home for now and for the most part she loved the walk and the crisp autumn air, but something she could not touch was lurking in yjr back of her mind. She loved the view of the city from the bluff in Sellwood.. The water sparkled bright a dazzling blue with the help of the sun and a wonderful crisp breeze as the city, with all its metal and noise sat in the background, she kind of took the long way home tonight enjoying her lukewarm reflection of enjoying her first contact with a human being of any sorts for the last few weeks. She had become a conundrum of sorts at least to herself. Unix was at this point a little spooked that she was actually thinking about what she was thinking about. Her life had become a short term mess of sorts and she somehow rationalized that it was time to get out of this funk and get back to her basics and just meet people.
She has been mired in a funk of sorts for the first time in her young life
Life had always been handed to her throughout her childhood. She was the girl who got to go to the private schools and then ended up not following the rules and getting sent to public school. When that didn’t work out as planned she was almost forced by her parent to be sent to a military school and her parents gave in to her and let her prove herself at another high school that she all of a sudden found somewhat to her liking. The school was big enough to provide structure but also perfectly big enough to afford her the freedom of being somewhat invisible. . The quirky bird at school that was always in her own little world but whom would somehow get her artwork on the schools west wing. It was that good , her art work somehow had made it on the walls of her high school, She readily admits she had actually purposely flirted with the her art teacher and somewhat mentor of sorts Mr.Mapes so that he would propose the idea to whom ever made that decision. But she really did not care as she wanted people to see her art and she felt proud every time she walked past her art work I really do not need all this school work when I can happily paint to make people happy.
She was somewhat now not entirely disconnected from her parents as a constant in her life. Her parents had suddenly split while she was in her senior year at Portland State
Seth could not see this coming, but he had at some point completely lost self interest in what he used to over indulge in previuosly , that being his job. Everything that once had existed in his job that he found interesting and challenging had been shipped overseas many years ago. He dreaded the never ending polishing of the terd that never seemed to get polished and somebody always ended up unhappier over it. The things he did at work he felt a secretary pointed in the right direction could do and they would be probably like it 100 times more. And tomorrow he had a handful of meetings as well as his official one on one yearly review with his condescending boss. It was already getting dark on this the first day we turn the clocks back in the fall and the sudden earliness of the dark startled him and he realized his weekend was for all practical purposes over. This saddened him a bit but decided he would take Beetle for a walk even though his dog had decided to go on its own little walk just a few minutes earlier.
Walking through his neighborhood made him feel llike he belonged somewhere. He had lived in this house longer than anyplace he lived before and he has grown a certain liking to where he lived. The park in the neighborhood had large pine trees that indicated a park in the
This startled Seth at first, but when the voice had fully entered his cognitive thought process he loved the sound of her voice. It echoed brilliantly on this cool clear fall evening. In the four word he heard ““Rodger get over here”” he had picked up a foreign accent and something else he could not put his finger on.
He looked to his side and saw her in a pretty brilliant light considering how quickly the day had gotten dark. Much to his surprise she walked over to the park bench he had been sitting on with looked like a bag which he presumed contained doggy cleanup in a public part. The idea of a woman carrying a poop bad may be a symbolic metaphor for future failure to many but for Seth at this time in his life it brought this beautiful voice down a level to where he was comfortable and it also served to give him his voice.
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