Dreaming via Nu Disco

Saw some dragons today.
They seemed weirded out by strange business deals.
I guess that's why they call it a den and not rent.

More artwork for the living
Less time for the dying
Parodies and pranks invading

Discothèques et bicyclettes,
Gendarmes et sauf-respect,
Nous ne savons plus comment profiter du temps qui écoule si lassement

Les ondes me disent que je ne travaille pas assez
Mon corps me disent de manger, manger
Danser c'est la bailande latine

Primal Blue

Full diclosure: The following letter is intended for an immature audience. Please note that improper citation styles ruin the economy. No, but seriously, check out my one and only legit sponsor of this blog: https://www.primalblueprint.com
Oh, and coupon-ing is not an income. 

There once lived an old adolescent who was overweight and lonely. Now, as an adult, he is much less malnourished and still about as lonely, and he no longer weighs 285 pounds like he did at his absolute measured heaviest, but at least he is rediscovering his love of the internet (which was designed and utilized as a communication tool, AFAIK, and not designed for porn, despite what Avenue Q might lead you to believe).

The numbers that speak of my 'ketoprimal' success story include over 101.1 lbs of WHATEVER it is that I lost by eating right and 'swearsweating' (coining this one: when you're angry that you're sweating; similar to 'hangry').

I still love moving frequently, albeit at a hectic pace, which makes me think I have some Korg DNA somewhere but it's probably due to the lack of connection to kingdom animalia that I move around so quickly and yet so infrequently... in front of an electronic screen.

At 28 years old, I ask myself on a daily basis if I'm doing humanity a disservice by 'choosing' not to get intimate but, given the "epidemic of loneliness" that looms over my generation and younger ones, I guess it's an important question to ponder.

I'm not a primal success because I have not found a mate yet and I would probably be dead if I lived in paleolithic times, but I am a success story because I know how to write and express myself through blogging.

That's why I still blog to this day: in the hopes that a future species impossibly wiser than our own will not commit natural fraud ever again by using flawed studies to reinvent the wheel.

I'd like this story to remain private (for the time being) because it is extremely convoluted.

-Gabe-




It's probably a programming error on my side, but I thought I'd let the ever-mysterious "Worker Bee" know anyway just in case it can help someone else feel a cathartic sense of release because they found a place that might publish something I write with no strings attached.

What do you call a dinosaur that knows a lot of words?

UA: A thesaurus?

Recitation

The text that follows the paragraph after this one can also be found here, where I originally wrote it after receiving an e-mail from Mr. Sisson. To find it, you will not need to know the way I think, because that is one thing which only I can truly know at the highest capacity possible.  Long story short, I'm afraid of being seen as a sell out by people who have a terrifically terrible time trying to figure out what point I'm trying to get across on this blog (and those people I can probably count on one hand at this point; but only in a world where people are numbe- HEY WAIT A SECOND)

Le texte qui suit n'a pas été rédigé ni traduis en français car je n'ai pas pris le temps de traduire chaque nuance et chaque mot parce-que ça prendrais du temps que je ne veux pas perdre à traduire quand il y a des gens qui le feraient gratuitement (ou sans autant d'effort que mois je mettrais) pour pratiquer leur faculté de transliteration (ou traduction; je ne suis pas sûr, car la seule différence entre ces deux termes que je voix est que l'un est un mot en anglais, et l'autre ne l'est past).

When I’m in need of a mental boost (or I feel stuck) I go for a walk or a bike ride (or sometimes both), or I solve puzzles in video games or I travel to a different city. Or I talk to my immediate family about the weird society I find myself living in. Or I check Mark’s Daily Apple *cough cough*.

And sometimes I end up in cemeteries, like today. And then I come out of there feeling pretty serious.

A cure for writer’s block that works for me is a technique that my secondary/high school teacher calls (called?) “Free Writing”, which is where ‘no matter what you write down, you just keep writing regardless and never stop to think about spelling or grammer’ (or something like that; I’m paraphrasing) an do far I was doing wellbut now I can’t call it free writing any more because I already used the backspace once or twice or possibly more in this paragraph and I also decided to come back and edit this comment further. Dangling participles be damned.

Anyway; favorite place to get writing done? Trains. I think botanical gardens are great if you don’t spend much time with flowers (especially during the wintertime). Now that Cannabis i.,s.,r., (indica, sativa, ruderalis?) is legal-ish in this country, I wonder if writer’s block might become a thing of the past, since this plant did in fact cause the flourishing of the romantic movement according to one or more experts in the field (i.e. me).

Hey, at least it’s not corn, right?

Also, while I’m writing here, could someone direct me to a (preferably primal) article on the difference between seeds and grains? Because in french, there’s literally one letter’s difference and it makes a huge differenc, apparently.

the end.
… of this comment.