Wednesday, November 04, 2009

own-age

I really want to look at you for a while. My day - side note: I always find the prevelance of possesives in English so interesting: "my day," as if the day belonged to me. "myself" is the funniest. Like "self" were this possesion; this thing that I owned. Kind of auto-objectifying if you ask me. Maybe it says something about our culture if we talk about everything in terms of ownership.

Center note: I just want to look at you. I've got a specific "you" in mind but you can pretend it's really you. Maybe it is. My day - side note again: what if each day really did belong to someone. Every day, one person would get to own that day. They (whoever they are) would show up at the one-bedroom shack of some family-man goat farmer in Abject Poverty and say, "the day is yours!" And that would be it. But it would be real. Official, I mean. Under property law. We can own land, so why not days? Space and time the same thing you know.

Regular note: My day was the kind of day I don't want to talk about. The kind of day that makes me want to swear off talking all together (which i guess would be kind of hipocritical). All I want to do is look at you. You don't have to do anything. You don't have to make your funny faces. You don't have to look back. The day-people haven't payed me any visits and the warranty on my self is up. Space-time is running out and all I want is to see you with my own eyes.