the Shrewdness of Evolution

On this fine, overcast day, I present the topic of the essence of writing; something often argued about. In my opinion, there is no proper or incorrect way to write. Some writers are pompous and perhaps a bit too heavy with the icing, while others are exact and straight to the point.

Personally, I enjoy playing an eloquent field; spicing up my poetic works for the jazzy minds of artists. I illustrate my thoughts through words, instead of utilizing words to plainly depict black from white.

The evolution of mankind and the human brain has noted a decrease in complexity. Each generation exhibits a lower level of intelligence and higher simplicity. Convenience is the life style they are brainwashed into, quick and to the point, forgetting to smell the roses left by what I would even consider a higher civilization in comparison to today. Forget Shakespeare and Aristotle, forget cursive, forget half the English language. This is how we live today, leading lives of ease, devoid of creativity and wonder.

Shame on you, mankind, shame on your laziness.

Nostalgically yours,
~Chiko .oO)>

Tornado Warning

What a fucking coincidence. My "Weather Eye" application flashes red, notifying me of a tornado warning. Who would have known that the Weather Network could predict pathetic fallacy. I should have seen it coming.

I slam the door and leave the building. 15 minutes later, thunder claps and rain leaves the sky. Hours later after the fact, my music cannot drown the distress from my mind. The rain still echoes in my ears, clouds crying in agony.

In the words of an overly popular, lets-laugh-at-others-misfortune site... FML.

Half asleep yet wide awake,
~Chiko -_-

Oh Dear Alice

Tick, tock, goes the cat clock.
Quarter past my life, I've got nothing to say.
A little blue dress, intended to impress.
Half past the hour, there goes another day.
Suede shoes, directed towards bottles of ooze.
Minutes past sundown, a different game to play.
Mister white rabbit, running out of habit.
Freckle past the hair, what time is it anyway?
Twinkle, twinkle, little bat! How I wonder what you're at.
Verdict past the sentence, don't dare to disobey.
You're nothing but a pack of cards!

We're all mad here,
~Chiko[<3]

Something Miscellaneous

Nothing is certain.

A street light, paint splatter, wine glasses, egotistical behavior, dog food, laminated bristle board. Digital disorder is the new alphabetical order. Classifying objects into categories is increasingly more difficult as technology advances. With programs like iTunes, the user can choose a method of categorization that suits their needs relative to their likes, dislikes and content; metadata becomes very descriptive and variable with indefinite limitations.

Returning to my Borges list, an object so certain as street lamps is as ambiguous as dog food. Plus, who bothers to notice the differences between the street lamps lined in a precise row in broad daylight as their mind whirls with information? Prior I would have stated "not I!", yet that would contradict this robust idea floating round my head. On my routine travel to my joyous workplace (the agitation provoked by the children I coach there finds me in a rather cynical mood), on a day that discovered me tuneless(an event that seldom occurs) my melody-free mind wandered my surroundings and found interest in a street lamp. I pondered, how bizarre! What interest is there in a utility so common place, especially when it lays dormant during its off-time? Good question. For now, I must say the interest to be found is that one normally would not find interest in it.

Hurray for conformity heresy!

Bwuahahaha,
~Chiko!

The Weekend

I'm just working for the weekend. Time in, time out, day in, day out. Is that all there is to life?

Speculating cause and effect,
~Chiko;

PS. Happy birthday to me tomorrow.