PEOPLE WATCHING #1
People are endlessly fascinating. When I walk the chaotic hallways from class to class I soak in all of the little mannerisms of those around me—each one a minute treasure of raw emotion. It makes me realize that everyone, when absorbed through these snapshots of recognition, is truly beautiful.
I see a deaf girl and guy flirting with their hands. (or perhaps they’re just two students studying sign? Maybe it’s more exciting to not hear each other speak? I can imagine that being so.)
A skinny-spiky-blonde-haired-kid turns around in front of me and scratches the back of his head with his index finger. His eyes glance at mine before instantly looking down. He’s agitated. At what I wonder?
Some good looking/well dressed guys stand behind a table with a bunch of pamphlets and booklets. One of them does a karate-chop through an invisible…piece of wood? The seemingly unwilling patron viewing this act takes a shocked step backward after the swipe.
A small group of dancers in spandex are relaxing—lounging on each other on the floor against the wall. One guy has his buzzed head resting on the leg of another guy. His smile is so casual and inviting. These people are so at ease together! It amazes me. I don’t have anyone that I could rest my head on like that. Is it strange that I want to join them? Inconspicuously infiltrate my way into their mass of sweaty limbs and torsos?
A girl is looking at her phone—no, she’s smiling at her phone. She tilts her head to one side and looks up for a second to make sure she doesn’t run into something. Then she looks back at her phone and continues smiling. I glance at the screen as she passes. It was a texting conversation. I wonder what was being said? With whom?
All was said and done,
So God closed his weary eyes,
And sighed a deep breath.
“Don’t forget that I made you.”
He thought, drifting off to sleep.
This is a blog post about a TV show that I watched that was about some dogs that were being treated poorly and were saved by some animal-loving people:
I saw a show on TV a while ago that showed how these animal-safety-activist-superhero-people had saved a bunch of dogs from a house where they were supposedly being abused/malnourished, etc. Their plan was to take these dogs to a park and let them run around on the grass and bask in the warm sunlight—which was, I guess, something that these dogs had never experienced before. When they got to the park they opened the back doors of their animal-rescue-van and opened the kennels and they were expecting the dogs to just jump right out and run around and have a great time. Instead the dogs started pissing themselves and curling up in the rear of the kennels. After a long time one of the dogs was coaxed out of the van somehow and when its paws touched the green grass it didn’t know what to do. It couldn’t stand up. It just slumped down and laid there whimpering. My guess is that its paws were not used to the softness of the grass. They were probably used to hard concrete and chains and coldness. Eventually the dog gained some confidence and started walking around.
I have to go, but just one more thing: That one brave dog influenced all of the other dogs to jump out of the van and face the unknown. Maybe they thought the sun was going to kill them. Maybe they thought there was fire outside of the van. They had a lot to be afraid of, but they eventually faced it all and realized that all of the things that they thought were scary were actually good things that could make them happy. Anyway, I’m glad that I stayed up late and finished watching that show.
Posted by B.C. NOLTE at 1:39 PM No comments: Email ThisBlogThis!Share to TwitterShare to FacebookShare to Pinterest
Thursday, December 20, 2012
I created this blog upon request for a class. Since then it has become somewhat dear to me. I realize that (starting with this post) I, meaning you, Bryan, are the only person that is going to be reading/writing anything pertaining to this blog. Is it worth continuing? Wouldn’t that be kind of strange? Writing a blog to and for yourself?
You could try and gain a devoted fan-base—form a cult, perhaps. The Bryanists. But that will never happen, because you’re an INFP and you don’t seek attention,, acknowledgement, or fame.
But, am I not writing this, and this, and this and THIS, because I crave attention? Am I not writing this in hopes that, perhaps, God willing, some stranger (possibly some literary talent-scout-stranger?) might stumble upon my blog and see my writing for what it truly is: Brilliant and Original and Twisted and Poignant and Clever and, let’s just say, a myriad of other cliched adjectives.
Anyway. Maybe this really is your last blog entry, Bryan. What do you want to say? Do you want to say something Poignant and Twisted? Or maybe you want to say something Brilliant with a dash of Clever and maybe just a pinch of something Twisted?
As I was driving to work today I counted seven flags at half-mast. The flags, of course, got me thinking about the Newtown massacre and how fucked up things can get in this world. Then I started thinking about December 21’st and how it might be the end of the world and how, especially for the parents of the Newtown victims, it might be a good idea for God to seriously consider following through with that plan.
If I was God and if I was trying to come up with a cool way to kill the earth, I think I’d gather up all the guns and the ammunition and the steel and the iron and the copper and the gold and the silver and the nickel and all the things that have built up our collective conglomerate of evil and I’d melt them all together and form them into a massive bullet-shaped-projectile-device and I’d blast that bitch at the speed of light straight into the earth’s black heart.