The Good Word of Sprout

Location: Chicago, Illinois, United States

Tuesday, February 28, 2006

the blank page

The blank page intimidates me. It is a compulsive liar, an ego strength coach, a gay man with a long scarf and a large man-bag.

The blank page is like the Arctic Circle. There is nothing to build on but my own mind and ice.

The blank page is an emetic. I throw up thoughts, pink and brown and beyond. I am weak before the blank page, but it has no remorse. It demands domination, like (from) a woman.


Wednesday, February 22, 2006

Like the crocodile

There is less truth now than there used to be. Used to be, some things were true, other things were not true. Now, a case can be made for anything to be untrue. A truth becomes untrue because the slightest aspect of it is untrue. But are there things left that are true regardless of reason or analysis?

Animals seem to know truth. When a dog shoves its snout into your crotch, it thinks, "Meaty, bacon!" Indeed, crotch is salted, tangy meat. However, reason then appears, and we think, "Crotch is not salted, tangy meat. Crotch is reproductive organs and status symbols." What we really mean though, is, "Don't bite my crotch." In our flawed human state, we have denied an obvious truth from an obvious perspective. Our emotion causes reason causes falsehood.

I would say that loss is true without exception. Anyone can identify with a loss. If they are sociopaths or psychopaths than that loss would be profound and inexpressible, not even there to the untrained eye. Who has not lost something that they have deeply and carefully wanted? It hurts, and pain is a sure sign of truth.

While it hurts, we say that the pain is necessary to learn (to avoid truth). It would be truer not to learn. It would be truer to teach our youth to live without awareness or loss, like the crocodile. Truth is the crocodile, and we are fleeing from it.

Wednesday, February 15, 2006

An Innocent Question

It rains cold
Glazed sheets,
Bright pools.

Glass exquisite
This gin,
This olive.

Who's that asleep
Purpling the doorway,

Endless commerce

From The Wall Street Journal website:

Depression Incorporated Everywhere (DIE) has reportedly bought twelve billion ($12b) in self-esteem futures effective 2/14/06, giving them over a quarter of the market shares available, most previously held by Chemical Imbalance Group (CIG). This imbalance will be offset somewhat by Build-A-Bear first quarter earnings and those profits already posted by Ghiradelli and Mr. Goodbar, Inc. The poor remain indifferent.


Friday, February 10, 2006

Shopping for earrings

It is morning, and I have spent the night shopping for earrings. I did not want gold, or diamond, or even stainless steel, but rather earrings made from undecorated styrofoam balls. At the jewelry store I found a multi-pack of these earrings, including two free fishing lures, for only $9.99. This pleased me a great deal because I knew that I could stick pins in them.

It was close to closing time. The cashier, an Indonesian girl, would not let me buy the earrings unless I gave her my father's date of birth. Apparently, the jewelry store's owner was his close personal friend, and I would receive a discount. She told me that this was where he bought my mother's wedding ring.

A bald man grinned at me from behind the display case. I turned to the cashier and asked if he was the owner. She raised her eyebrows. I turned again and the bald man was gone.

I gave her the date of birth, and she pulled up my father's account. She then asked me my date of birth. Anxious to leave, I told her that that information was unnecessary.

A pickup truck smashed through the plate-glass window, interrupting our transaction.