Good Morning Sunshine! ^_^ Can you see my big, big smile? I have a workload ahead, one of the longest, hardest, toughest and on top of all, most boring parts of the monthly brief, but DO-I-CARE? Noooo! I'm HAPPY!!! And you know something? Coffee mix while still good (when it's still best before) is SO MUCH BETTER!! For once, you don't have to lend a tractor to get the mix out of the can. That's a big plus, specially if you rather not have your desk covered in "Swiss Mocha" or "French Coffee mix". Trust me, it can be most inconvenient. shit, my fucking chair is so uncomfortable.... I would really, really press for a new chair, anatomical, ergonomical and the whole deal, up and down and moving all around once I get my hand on the "Process Budget"! Yeah, baby!
I was e-mail-talking to a friend of mine from Malasia through the Facebook, and he mentioned he reads me every now and then. Talking a bit more, he tactfully told me he kind of finds my writing "colorful", which later settled for "raw vulgarity". No shit! O_O So I'm... vulgar? *thinks a bit on the matter* Well, I would rather go for "raw" or even visceral. My emotions lead me, truth to be told. This takes me to Sandra, with whom I was having a meaningful conversation about the emotional relationships. Emotions. What are they and what do we mean by them? The world seems to constantly place them in a box that can be opened only at the right moment and withing a socially bonded relationship cemented through sex and the uncomfortable ties of imposed commitments and promises to behave like "respectable" cells that would add more "human cubs" to the expanding, represive social fabric.
"Vulgar". Vulgar I define more as a sickening tendency to lower, muddle, degrade something perfectly fine through a given mix of lower, mocking, debasing words and lewd, mocking, unrefined tones. What sets the difference between "honest" and "vulgar". Cyn usually tells me that I'm too raw and I have no talent and no tact whatsoever to held a polite, diplomatic conversation, and that all my mailing should be supervised. I simply think I'm honest and I refuse to kiss ass and save all negative comments to myself, pretending the world is a fine, perfect, well working place. No shit, it is not.
I hold my mug o' Good Morning Coffeeland coffee and I inhale the rich scent of perfect beans nurtured by our gentle sun, strengtened by our blessed land and toasted by the soft, ancient wisdom of the people. It reaches, me fills me while MIDIval PunditZ floods the room with Mercury. Relax me, Revive me.... Shimmy Gin, my friend, you have given me a GREAT GIFT!
Perceptions, perceptions, perceptions.... The world is full of them, and while some think me playing with the raw vulgarity, unleashed in harsh, unpolished outspokenness, funnily caught in the krrrrrazzzy coffeerush, I smell my coffee and enjoy another day full of energy and joy.
I was e-mail-talking to a friend of mine from Malasia through the Facebook, and he mentioned he reads me every now and then. Talking a bit more, he tactfully told me he kind of finds my writing "colorful", which later settled for "raw vulgarity". No shit! O_O So I'm... vulgar? *thinks a bit on the matter* Well, I would rather go for "raw" or even visceral. My emotions lead me, truth to be told. This takes me to Sandra, with whom I was having a meaningful conversation about the emotional relationships. Emotions. What are they and what do we mean by them? The world seems to constantly place them in a box that can be opened only at the right moment and withing a socially bonded relationship cemented through sex and the uncomfortable ties of imposed commitments and promises to behave like "respectable" cells that would add more "human cubs" to the expanding, represive social fabric.
"Vulgar". Vulgar I define more as a sickening tendency to lower, muddle, degrade something perfectly fine through a given mix of lower, mocking, debasing words and lewd, mocking, unrefined tones. What sets the difference between "honest" and "vulgar". Cyn usually tells me that I'm too raw and I have no talent and no tact whatsoever to held a polite, diplomatic conversation, and that all my mailing should be supervised. I simply think I'm honest and I refuse to kiss ass and save all negative comments to myself, pretending the world is a fine, perfect, well working place. No shit, it is not.
I hold my mug o' Good Morning Coffeeland coffee and I inhale the rich scent of perfect beans nurtured by our gentle sun, strengtened by our blessed land and toasted by the soft, ancient wisdom of the people. It reaches, me fills me while MIDIval PunditZ floods the room with Mercury. Relax me, Revive me.... Shimmy Gin, my friend, you have given me a GREAT GIFT!
Perceptions, perceptions, perceptions.... The world is full of them, and while some think me playing with the raw vulgarity, unleashed in harsh, unpolished outspokenness, funnily caught in the krrrrrazzzy coffeerush, I smell my coffee and enjoy another day full of energy and joy.
2 comments:
I wish coffee made me feel the same way it makes you feel. I'd probably never leave Starbucks. They'd have to kick me out!
Try my mix... it's bound to make you fly! ^_^
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